Made this a month+ back. It resulted in ratbat’s Tiger picture. ( http://www.titanatelier.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/10/Tiger1.jpg )
“Come now Frauline. Make me feel young once more” the German Tiger tank gorwled in his aging German accent as the girl begins to disrobe. The German flame still burnt bright inside him. Despite the stigma of World War Two Germany he still could never be more proud of his service to the Fatherland. He was an officer once, a leader, a soldier. Retirement did not suit him. This pride compelled him to find the perfect German woman. This day he was proud to say he had found one.
“That aryan blood runs deep within you my dear. How about showing an old soldier a good time” She was beautiful, long straight blond hair, big full breasts and deep ocean blue eyes, the body of a godess. The ideals had been built into every bolt and rivet and now he was about to indulge himself with the intensity of the Blitz Krieg.
She finished removing her clothing, showing this Panzer exactly what he wanted. He rolled close to her his Maybach V12 engine and heavy armored hull shaking the ground. He extended his mechanical tendrils, carressing her body. “You are perfect meine liebe. We shall make love like its 1943 again”. He picked her up off her feet and lifted her to his eye level appreciating her beautiful form. A tendril extends out and begins rubbing her full breasts rubbing the perimeter of her nipple. Another pair of manipulators slithered up her thighs and grabbed onto her lushious ass, squeezing and squishing the tender tissue. “You would birth beautiful German babies mein frauline”.
One moved up and held her chin to face him, he wanted to watch her. A tendril creeped up her inner thigh finding the tender lips of her pussy. It entered her causing her to writhe about in his grasp her head falling back, a gentle moan coming from her open mouth. He found the target, the nerve cluster the humans called the “G-spot” another tendril would pull, tease and flick against her swollen bead while he moaned a deep diesel moan “Yes, yes. You will do well”
He would show his beautiful girl why Ferdinand Porsche had given him the nickname “Tiger”. He could sense the woman becoming aroused and this pleased the old German. He turned his gun a few degrees exposing a pannel just forward if his turret. She watched as what was an impossibly large appendage emerged. The long Gunmetal gray appendage had a smooth shiny surface, a blunt rounded leading edge, followed by a long ribbed shaft. “We Germans know how to pleasure our women you see” he said unashamed to show his masculinity, silver precum beads forming thick around his girth.
The tank removed his tendril. He was sure she was ready, her pussy dripped with anticipation of this massive German entering her. “You see darling, you may be an auslander but this old tank can teach you a few things about being German. So just relax yourself and let old Hanz show you.”
“First a German must be willing to brave unthinkable odds.” He said turning her to face away from him and placing her over his erect member. The oozing precum would make his entry easy. He could already feel the heat emminating from her crotch at the tip of his dick.
“Second a German must be willing to withstand pain and strife in the name of the Fatherland”. He slowly lowered her until his penis pressed against her aroused pussy. A couple of tendrils emerged and spread her legs wide apart then moved to her ass grabbing her cheeks, pulling them apart to give him a better target. Her toes urled around the front edge of this tank as the head began to press into her body letting out a loud sharp moan as it broke the surface, swollowing his head inside her.
“Third a German will have to show an unyeilding dedication to the German State, with the intensity of the the undying German will.” In a quick motion he pulled her down onto himself, driving himself so deep into her there was no farther to go, causing her to throw her head back and let out the loudest moan she had, her eyes slamming shut from the feeling. “Thats it my dear, you are beginning to get it.”
He lifted her allowing a moment of releif and slowly pushed into her once again, his shaft slicked with her fluids combined with his thick slimy pre. He wouldnt dare break his soldierly bearing and show it but being inside this beautiful maiden overjoyed him. His old joints and mechanics creaking and groaning with each movement. He had got his suspension into it to holding his breaks revving his powerful engine releasing then quickly applying them again causing him to bounce on his torsion bars with each movment only serving to increase the movement of his thrusts. She wrapped her arms around his massive 88mm cannon to brace herself as he continued to slide in and out of her frail human body, his engine revving, as he grunted and growled with pleasure. Putting her face to his cannon she began vogorously licking its steely surface, attempting to taste this German. This pleased him “There we are love, now you’re getting it”
The slopping and wet squishing and smacking sounds continued as he penedrated her hard and fast, her face showing nothing but the intense ecstacy she was feeling with this Panzer inside her.
As the passion mounted he slowed his pace to a more gentle speed, slowly drawing her body up and down the length of his shaft. “My dear, love unlike war must not be all about the the force, you must also seek the tender passion or else risk losing the interest of your lover” His words were gentle now as his slow deep thrusts sent spasms of pleasure through her body. Had been washed away into a daze by the high from absorbing his fluids into her blood stream.
Then he could feel the climax coming, one he had been waiting nearly 80 years for, to be with such a fine specimen of Germanic perfection “mein Leibchen i am close” he said as his old frame began to shudder. Silvery tank cum gushed form the tip of his dick deep inside her. It conuinued flowing with such an intnesity it quickly filled her insides and was forced out between his dick and her tightly stretched pussy. The gooey liquid poured from her onto his hull, down her legs, eventually into a puddle in the dirt. It was a hot thick sticky mess. She let out a loud moan as she to came, a moan that impressed even the Tiger as she to climaxed from the sensation of his orgasm.
“And the fourth” he said the both of them panting heavily ” a German will have to show resiliance in all aspects of life, being always ready to push again”
© 2015 “DELTA X3″ Account owner
All rights reserved. No part of these works may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
[10/28/14, 9:01:33 PM] RATBAT: in Russia still there is a KV2 who’s been kind of trapped in these country mechanics basement row house for 3 years because part of his track was fell apart
( Please note that Dire machines regenerate broken track just like any other attached limb via nanomachine reservoirs like humans heal a wound. This is the only part of the story that doesn’t make sense for the Dire KV2)
[10/28/14, 9:02:16 PM] RATBAT: this doesn’t normally happen, because the nano machines try to repair as many broken original anatomy as they can
[10/28/14, 9:02:40 PM] RATBAT: so the fact the tank was trapped was kind of far fetched in the first place.
[10/28/14, 9:03:34 PM] RATBAT: never the less this Russian teen and her uncle took care of the KV2 “Borislav” for years and years. he was a friend of the family since the great great great grandfather brought him back from WW2 in one piece
[10/28/14, 9:03:55 PM] RATBAT: so they did their best to find a piece of track and repaired him.
[10/28/14, 9:04:20 PM] RATBAT: they kinda hoped he’d stay and help with the family business , but it was his choice weather to stay or go
[10/28/14, 9:04:25 PM] DELTA X3: I like that name
[10/28/14, 9:04:27 PM] RATBAT: and he wanted to stay for the teen
[10/28/14, 9:04:37 PM] RATBAT: Borislav means “victory in battle”
[10/28/14, 9:05:56 PM] RATBAT: in any case, this girl isn’t too young and isn’t too old.. she’s about 16
[10/28/14, 9:06:11 PM] RATBAT: and she’s got partial journeyman mechanic status
[10/28/14, 9:06:26 PM] RATBAT: but it turns out
[10/28/14, 9:06:42 PM] RATBAT: she was in love with Borislav,and he was in love with her
[10/28/14, 9:06:51 PM] RATBAT: her name was “Fedya”
[10/28/14, 9:09:55 PM] RATBAT: the uncle went out on emergency business, and Fedya comes home angry because the “boys at school are getting grabby and stupid.” and she doesn’t wan those boys at school (because she’s a mechaphile for a heavy tank with a 152 mm howitzer
[10/28/14, 9:10:17 PM] RATBAT: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kliment_Voroshilov_tank
that same night Fedya comes down stairs again and discovered that Borislav was looking at Russian porn sites preparing for a way to pay her back for getting him tread replacements.
[10/28/14, 9:33:10 PM] RATBAT: anyway, a thin slight teen girl allowed a KV2 to sit her down on his cock..
[10/28/14, 9:33:14 PM] RATBAT: and he was so big..
[10/28/14, 9:33:32 PM] RATBAT: she took the pain for him until he was deep inside
[10/28/14, 9:33:55 PM] RATBAT: so much lube trickled out..
[10/28/14, 9:34:32 PM] RATBAT: she may have passed out but he caressed her and spoke to her .. talked her through what was happening..
[10/28/14, 9:34:58 PM] RATBAT: until she was used to his size enough that he could thrust into her and help her find her orgasm
[10/28/14, 9:35:35 PM] DELTA X3: Oooh
[10/28/14, 9:35:36 PM] RATBAT: factoid: 60% of women don’t become orgasmic till around their 20’s
[10/28/14, 9:35:57 PM] RATBAT: but with tlc, they can coax those nerves to become orgasmic
[10/28/14, 9:36:06 PM] RATBAT: and he was helping her.. stimulating her..
[10/28/14, 9:36:17 PM] RATBAT: so big inside her..
[10/28/14, 9:36:43 PM] RATBAT: all she wore was a see-through silk nightly now stained with his heavy grey precum
[10/28/14, 9:37:26 PM] RATBAT: she was underage.. but the machines… this is where their own morality diverges from the humans.
[10/28/14, 9:37:49 PM] RATBAT: they recognize physical maturity first in an intelligent race.
[10/28/14, 9:38:25 PM] RATBAT: a 16 year old boy or girl is the same as a 23 year old boy or girl, or a 30 year old boy or girl
[10/28/14, 9:38:46 PM] RATBAT: if your physically mature, your ready to have sex
[10/28/14, 9:40:11 PM] RATBAT: she grabbed at the turret of this massive KV2, and let Borislav “the soviet love hammer” break in her tender flesh
[10/28/14, 9:41:21 PM] RATBAT: the more he stroked , the easier and more comfortable she became with him..till she could relax around his throbbing machine cock
[10/28/14, 9:41:48 PM] RATBAT: he stroked her hair and caressed her back the whole time.
[10/28/14, 9:42:00 PM] RATBAT: talking to her.. moaning to her.. touching her cheek..
[10/28/14, 9:42:38 PM] RATBAT: using his mechadendrites to gauge her receptive spots.. and working at those
[10/28/14, 9:43:17 PM] RATBAT: she was developing quiet a chest to.. which he coiled around just to feel
[10/28/14, 9:44:21 PM] RATBAT: It was quiet a site to behold..
[10/28/14, 9:44:37 PM] RATBAT: a pristine Russian girl giving herself to an old soviet giant
[10/28/14, 9:46:10 PM] RATBAT: one day she went to school, and one of the upper classmen tried to molest her in the bathroom . Borislav was pissed
[10/28/14, 9:46:22 PM] DELTA X3: Omg
[10/28/14, 9:47:17 PM] RATBAT: even at a top speed of 30 or 35 mph, he knew he could totally run over that kid
[10/28/14, 9:47:58 PM] RATBAT: and if he didn’t, he could totally pick up and choke that kid out with his tendrils
[10/28/14, 9:48:43 PM] RATBAT: Tanks parent allowed to fire their main weapons in civilian city limits unless marshal law or war has been declared
[10/28/14, 9:51:18 PM] RATBAT: Right now Boris is trying to think about what he’s going to do to protect his young mate Feyda
[10/28/14, 9:52:03 PM] RATBAT: and Fedya is working on how she’s going to tell her uncle she’s been fucking Borislav every night before bed.
[10/28/14, 9:52:13 PM] DELTA X3: Lol
[10/28/14, 9:52:35 PM] RATBAT: her fingers are starting to turn grey..
[10/28/14, 9:52:45 PM] RATBAT: part of her hands..
[10/28/14, 9:53:02 PM] RATBAT: she reaches out over the dinner table to grab some rolls
[10/28/14, 9:53:35 PM] RATBAT: her uncle grabs her wrist . “What have I told you about washing up before dinner eh?”
[10/28/14, 9:53:59 PM] RATBAT: he thinks she’s dirty from after school mechanic work..
[10/28/14, 9:54:05 PM] RATBAT: but that grey won’t come off..
[10/28/14, 9:54:25 PM] RATBAT: so she goes up to the bathroom and pretends to wash
[10/28/14, 9:55:23 PM] RATBAT: all the while becoming hungrier and hungrier for the machine downstairs.. who sings Russian folk songs in a baritone voice deep enough to rattle the bricks loose in the fireplace.
[10/28/14, 9:55:36 PM] RATBAT: he’s messing around on a laptop thinking about her
[10/28/14, 9:57:02 PM] RATBAT: Borislav wants to bond..his engine and systems ache.. they burn for Fedya now in between chores here and there.
[10/28/14, 9:57:17 PM] RATBAT: He made damn sure those boys never messed with her again.
[10/28/14, 9:58:13 PM] RATBAT: the snow had already melted and been gone for a month..
[10/28/14, 9:58:24 PM] RATBAT: But the girl.. she still wore her winter clothes.
[10/28/14, 9:58:36 PM] RATBAT: it was starting to bother the uncle.. this “behavior”
[10/28/14, 10:00:00 PM] RATBAT: He never suspected Boris, Boris was a damn fine worker. and but for the more then occasional synth diesel bill that cut into profits in the family business. Boris was very technical and well experienced with the other tracked vehicles in the farmlands
[10/28/14, 10:00:10 PM] RATBAT: he was like a “machine doctor”
[10/28/14, 10:00:51 PM] RATBAT: he knew so much about other Russian machines of various types he was just like a doctor
[10/28/14, 10:01:33 PM] RATBAT: when he identified the ills of the other machines, (chronic problems that nano machines could not regenerate)
[10/28/14, 10:02:02 PM] RATBAT: the uncle and Fedya set upon to fix these troubles with sweat and tools
[10/28/14, 10:03:37 PM] RATBAT: One knight the uncle had been drinking. he was in an off kinda mood.
[10/28/14, 10:04:32 PM] RATBAT: dinner was put on the table, and this “daughter” of his (his deceased brothers girl) she wore gloves at the table.
[10/28/14, 10:04:44 PM] RATBAT: “take those off. i mean it.”
[10/28/14, 10:05:37 PM] RATBAT: she tried to argue her case but he cut her off. “Take them off — show me your hands.”
[10/28/14, 10:06:37 PM] DELTA X3: *much suspense*
[10/28/14, 10:07:04 PM] RATBAT: she took off the long gloves slowly.. with her head down, they were dropped on the floor and she turned away from her uncle who could see plain as day that this ‘greyness’ had progressed up her arms and nearly kissed her elbows
[10/28/14, 10:09:00 PM] RATBAT: he sat back in his chair and pressed his hand over his mouth starring long and hard at her arms. then he poured himself some cheap vodka and pounded it back slamming the glass on the table.
[10/28/14, 10:11:13 PM] DELTA X3: No Plinkova Elite
[10/28/14, 10:13:44 PM] RATBAT: ;;he turned away from her and huffed. then poured himself another drink. “it’s Borislav isn’t it.? You and him ….yebatsya ”
[10/28/14, 10:14:52 PM] RATBAT: Then he leans over and puts his hands over hers. prompting her to look at him.
[10/28/14, 10:15:54 PM] RATBAT: “I promised your real father i would raise you till you could find a man of your own to protect you. But he died before the machines woke up, and things are different now.”
[10/28/14, 10:17:07 PM] RATBAT: “I guess i am kind of not surprised you ended up this way. You never once showed any interest in the kids at school.”
[10/28/14, 10:19:10 PM] RATBAT: “You are too young for this Fedya.. but i know that “he” is not doing this hurt or take advantage of you.
[10/28/14, 10:19:46 PM] RATBAT: ;;he pounds back his cheap vodka and mutters ‘So much for grand kids.”
[10/28/14, 10:20:04 PM] RATBAT: “you better eat that before it gets cold.”
[10/28/14, 10:21:30 PM] RATBAT: later on that night, Fedya tip toes down stairs to the heated garage where Borislav is polishing his munitions and watching Tv from a shitty old flatscreen (flatscreen tbs are old technology now)
[10/28/14, 10:22:39 PM] RATBAT: its some kind of game show where the locals do stupid shit for rubals.
[10/28/14, 10:23:12 PM] RATBAT: Borislav has watched this show everyday and Is now beginning to get the humor involved.
[10/28/14, 10:23:48 PM] RATBAT: he chuckles occasionally with a..what kind of sounds like heavy diesel engine idling.
[10/28/14, 10:24:41 PM] RATBAT: he turns his turret to her and she walks almost soundlessly up the little step stool her put there for her.
[10/28/14, 10:25:42 PM] RATBAT: he hugs her, presses her to his armor and pulls her clothes off in order to tease and eventually sheath himself inside her.
[10/28/14, 10:26:47 PM] RATBAT: he can tell that some great weight has been both “lifted” and replaced with something else… he hopes its not shame for their love…
[10/28/14, 10:27:42 PM] RATBAT: in his deep Russian voice he tells her, ‘Everything will be alright.”
[10/28/14, 10:28:09 PM] RATBAT: the 2 make love with the tv on and just moan against one another not saying a word.
[10/28/14, 10:28:29 PM] RATBAT: (there thats my story so far)
[10/28/14, 10:28:31 PM] DELTA X3: So the uncle is or isn’t upset
[10/28/14, 10:28:50 PM] RATBAT: he’s not upset. he just doesn’t know how to handle it.
[10/28/14, 10:29:09 PM] RATBAT: the Russians in that town are very traditional
[10/28/14, 10:29:20 PM] RATBAT: and even though they are friends with the Dire machines..
[10/28/14, 10:29:33 PM] DELTA X3: Not a typical situation a (foster) patent has to deal wroth
[10/28/14, 10:29:34 PM] RATBAT: its still very strange to some of them
[10/28/14, 10:30:06 PM] RATBAT: yeah
[10/28/14, 10:30:13 PM] RATBAT: I really like this story
[10/28/14, 10:30:41 PM] RATBAT: its both happy and both kind of troubled
[10/28/14, 10:32:09 PM] DELTA X3: I like it. You never mentioned the aftermath of that upperclassmen
[10/28/14, 10:32:10 PM] RATBAT: It was just the uncle and the daughter of his dead brother and Borislav a giant ass heavy soviet tank living in a row house together
[10/28/14, 10:34:02 PM] RATBAT: Borislav payed him a visit and threatened to have his ass ‘disappeared’ KGB style as him and all the machines in town were friends and would be watching is he as much as looked at her again.
[10/28/14, 10:35:13 PM] DELTA X3: KGB style
[10/28/14, 10:35:24 PM] RATBAT: hehe
[10/28/14, 10:37:22 PM] RATBAT: KGB hasn’t existed since 1991
[10/28/14, 10:37:35 PM] RATBAT: so its hard to tell if that kids understood what the tank meant
[10/28/14, 10:37:39 PM] RATBAT: but he probably did
Vadik part 1 * This may be deleted and added to When in russia later*
“Good evening everybody sorry to interrupt but Hangar 15 is celebrating its 10 month annaversary.” Chase said through the mic, the DJ lowering the music so he could speak. “Myself and the machines of Weber field would like to extend out thanks to our military members for the their service with half off drinks. So enjoy.” He put the mic back and the music resumed.
Vadik was doing as Vadik always did. His english had improved since being in the United States from a hand full of words to the ability to put together basic statements. He again resumed the roll of caretaker of the machines at the field, at the parties he would keep things lively and doing whatever he can to get his machines with a date, trying to involve the timid and hesitant.This meant he would sacrafise his own pleasure to make sure the others had a better chance of finding a human or machine to go home with.
The sun had gone down, but the party was still raging. At the center of the dancee floor was a circle of armored vehicles, jets and helicopters, the humans sitting on their hulls watching the those brave enough to display their dancing skills. The surrounding area was scattered with machines with their potential partners. With the warm evening the party had even spread out onto the runway and surrounding buildings.
Vadik had been doing his rounds, helping around the club when he saw a female standing alone on the outer wall seeming to be trying to blend into the shadows. He would try to enguage her maybe offer a drink then find her a suitable machine for the evening.
She tried to look away as he approached. She didn’t know why she was even here. Her friend had begged her to come along and she eventually broke. She had no interest in machines unlike her friend who had disappeared with a Leopard 2 tank early in the evening leaving her alone in a room full of massive war machines. Honestly they frightened her, missiles, cannons, heavy treads creeking and clanking as they moved about.
“How your night is” he thought a second “is your night” Vadik said trying to make his gruff voice sound as friendly as possible “I hope you’re enjoy party”
She still shyed away cringing a little in fear. He was not as large and frightening as the others but none the less he was a large armored vehicle, bearing massive all terrain tires and a machine gun. “I… I dont know. I think i should leave” she turned and was about to walk away.
“Why do you not stay” Vadik said, trying to fight the urge to speak Russian, his heavy accent making him difficult to understand. She liked it, something felt very comforting about his voice causing her to pause and rethink leaving. She turned back to him, seeing this massive armor plated vehicle she almost lost her nerve again. Then she saw him smiling at her, and those big eyes just seemed to console her. “I don’t know. I don’t think I belong here. My friend is into machines but I dont think I am. I just came because my friend begged me”
“Are you think of trying” he said. She couldn’t explain it but that accent of his, that deep thick Russian accent was enticing her. Something about her seemed to losen up as she looked into his big eyes.
“I don’t think so” He could sense her hesitation. She herself had no plan of hooking up with a machine but at this point she sure could use a friend and so far he was the only one she had ran into that wasn’t clearly trying to end up in bed with her.
“Then you could use tour while you wait? I can keep company” he said a big friendly smile across his face.
For some reason she trusted him and he seemed pleasnat. Not only that but maybe waiting with him would keep all the others from making a pass at her and keep her occupied until her friend got done with whatever she was taking part in. “I suppose”
“Climb up and hang on.” She hesitantly began climbing up, finding the first foothold and reaching for the handhold. She thought she would find the steel cold to the touch but was suprised to find his hull was warm. She placed her other foot on his tire but couldnt manage to pull herself up. She jumped a little as a tendril wrapped around her waist and lifted her the rest of the way up “Allow me to help you” he said setting her down on his roof, her feet hanging off his side. “Hold onto my gun”. She looked to her right and saw the heavy barrel protruding from his turret but was relictant to touch it, she had never even held a pistol before. “Is completely safe, no worry”. She cautiously wrapped her arm around the gun and held on.
Back where the party was still heavy Chase looked over, seeing the girl crawling up Vadik’s side. “Anya check it out, it looks like Vadik found someone.” Chase said pulling a Mig’s tongue from his mouth. Anya was to busy to notice as she was getting friendly with a massive M1A1 Abrams tank. “Good for him” she said through clenched teeth as one of the tank’s tendrils discretely ventured down to her nether regions.
She was weary about going anywhere with him but something felt right about this, his rumbling engine consoled her fears. He was careful with her on board and took it slow as they drove around the airbase, showing her how much it had grown since it’s founding. She was enjoying it, she even found herself resting her head on his turret as they rolled down the length of the landing strip, watching the lights go by in the warm night air. It seemed to her this night may actually turn out to be an enjoyable one.
“Do you want to see my favorite sight here?” He asked.
She wasn’t sure. She had enjoyed herself so far but what did he want to show her now, what was it he had to ask to show her. She didn’t often take risks in her life, even deciding to eat out was a thoroughly calculated decision. It felt right though. “sure” she said meekly.
“Alright” he said “Hold on tight”. He picked up the speed and headed for the back gate. They went about half a kilometer down the road then began down a dirt road. “You better get in. The trail ahead does get rather bumpy”. A hatch opened next to her “please be careful”. She crawled through into his armored interior. It was dimly lit by a couple small lights but the padded seat felt comfortable. A couple of tendrils came through the hatch and gently buckled her in.
He did his best not to jostle her as he traversed the rocks and potholes. This road if it could be called that was impassable to anything other than a robust off road vehicle and to his knowledge known only to him. She could feel the angle tell her they had climbed quite a but by the time they came to a stop. The hatch opened “You can come out now ” he said beconing her out. She crawled out and looked across the scene, the view was spectacular. She was awe struck as she looked across the landscape. She could see the moon shimmering off the Pacific Ocean to the west about a mile off and to their front she could see the bright colorful lights of the airfield. They sat on a flat clearing at the top of a small hill just on the outskirts of the field. They could faintly hear the sounds of the party in the distance and cars driving up and down the I-5 but nature also made its presence known, crickets chirped and the ocean roared in the distance.
“So what you think” Vadik, said hoping she would like it.
“This is amazing.” She was blown away by the view. She wasn’t aware these living machines had such a preception of beauty, it truly was serene up here.
“I’m glad” he said slowly inching one of his manipulator claws towards her hand. He hoped this would not scare her off, he hadn’t been this close in years. As it met the palm of her hand he was suprised, she didn’t shy away at all, she wrapped her fingers between his and held him.
“Vadik, I never imagined I would be having this kind of moment with a machine but here we are.” She said looking off into the distance. “I’m glad you brought me up here I don’t really like parties, I prefer the quiet” she paused and placed her face against his turret “like this.” Vadik smiled at this. “I don’t really know if I should” she continued “or even how I would but if you’ll take me, I’ll be yours for the night”.
What was she thinking, offering herself to a vehicle. This wasn’t like her at all, she didn’t even kiss on the first date. She had been without a man for over a year now, it was a nasty break up between her and her former fiancé and she hadn’t sought out love since. It was something about him that just made her happy again.
She carefully crawled down and stood in front of the BRDM his broad smile made her smile, the first time in a long time. “You dont know how glad that makes me” Vadik said. He had set aside his own desires for those of others for far to long. This time this was for him.
She stood with her back to the field in front of him, in his mind this couldnt be more perfect. He could sense she was shy as she pulled off her top. “You have nothing to fear up here, it is just you and I my dear”. He took the garment from her and placed it in his cabin. Next was her skirt and again Vadik took it for safe keeping. She truly was much more beautiful than she gave herself credit for. “Please my darling, keep going”
This wasn’t her at all. She couldn’t believe it, she was taking her bra off for an armored car, but something about it excited her, this must have been why her friend did it, that and she was a freaky one. “Allow me” Vadik said as she was about to remove her panties. He moved in close and extended 2 manipulator claws and gently grabbed the edges of her undergarments and slowly moved them down her legs. Then without warning her, he extended his broad tongue and placed it to her crotch, wetting her entire waist, tasting the aroused humans loins. This was exactly what he needed. She collapsed onto his front as the tip began flicking and playing with her clit as she oozed into his mouth, her face pressed against his armored nose, her breath leaving a cloud on the paint in the moist night air. He lapped at the lips of very aroused vagina until he felt she was in just the right place.
“Lay on the groung for me” he said withdrawing his tongue. She wasn’t sure what was about to happen but she had already come this far. She lay in the soft grass in front of him “don’t be afraid” he reassured her as he began to roll forward. She watched as the first massive all terrain tire passed by her, rocks and vegetation crackling under his immense weight. He continued until her toes here just at his rear axles. She was suprised as two large manipulator hands wrapped themselves almost all the way around her slender torso. Another pair came from under her arms, crisscrossed her upper back and supported her shoulders. A final pair came and cupped her full round ass cheeks, giving them a little squeezed. She was suprised by the heat his body put off, it was pleasantly warming.
He enjoyed the feeling of her soft human flesh in his hands, her breasts were especially enticing. With the thumbs of his large manipulator hands he began playing with them, squishing them, pushing the two mounds together, playing with her tender nipples, gently rubbing circles around their edges and over their tips. Another tendril slithered it’s way down between her breasts tracing the curves of her stomach and finally finding it’s mark at the tender ball of tissue of her clit, tenderly kneading it while another creeped up between her ass cheeks and penetrated her soft wet vagina. She writhed with pleasure as the two worked at her most sensitive parts, the one squirming about inside her bringing her just to the cusp of orgasm before withdrawing. This was by far the most stimulated she had ever been, her juices were flowing like a river.
“Vadik, oh my god” she moaned as he ceased playing with her “How can you do all that?”
“The benefits of being a machine, we can do many things” he replied
He moved her a bit farther down his body until she could feel something thick, long and hot laying across her belly. She reached down and felt his massive girth, how was she going to take this, she thought to herself. It oozed hot thick silvery precum onto her which pooled at her bellybutton before slipping off her and onto the ground beneath her. She ran her hands up and down his erection feeling the smooth ribbed shaft all the way up to the hot dripping head, even daring her curiosity and taking a goop of the liquid from the tip and placing it on her tongue just to see what a machine really tasted like. “You like” he said, his russian accent really starting to come out with the thought of getting to make love to this tiny American.
“I want you to guide it in will you dorogaya moya”. She took hold of the head his engorged cock as he moved her into position, the tip right at the slit of her vagina. She aided in guiding it to its target she could feel the heat of it pressing against her skin, his pre slathering the entrance. She clenched her teeth and let out a whimper as his massive head broke the surface, pressing hard into her. The manipulator hands on her ass spread her cheeks and legs so he could fit. She felt like her entire insides were stretching as the head finally made its way inside. She could feel his heat inside her as he continued to slowly push in, each rib causing her to clench her teeth even harder as it pushed past the entrance. Bit by bit he drove it into her until he felt himself touch the end reaching its max inside her. At this point he held it there savoring the feeling of having her tight pussy wrapped around him. His fluids were already giving her the first high of her life taking her mind off being stretched by this russian. “My dear you don’t know how long I’ve waited to feel like this again.”
He began to pull himself out of her little by little until only his head remained inside her body. His shaft was covered in both her and his fluids. With slow deliberation he began to push it back into her bringing a deep moan from her as he reached bottom again. He pulled back and pushed in again. “You see, your body is now used to a Russian the rest will be easy”. He could feel her body quivering with the sensation as she panted and moaned at the top of her lungs with each following powerful thrust. They went at it, gradually increasing in speed until it was the rapid fire squishing and slapping of their unnaturally powerful sex. She moaned deeply with each repetition, grunts, groans and heavy breathing filling the still night air.
“I want you to say you want it, I want you to beg for it, beg me for it darling” he groaned, his massive desiel engine revving along.
“Yes! Yes! Vadik yes! I want it!” She shouted unashamed if anyone heard it. “I want you, you big russian” her nails digging into his paint as she grasps him. She doesn’t know why but she finds herself tonguing the treads of his massive military off road tires and if trying to taste the long gone melted snow and earth of his motherland.
Finally he could feel it, the climax years in waiting. “I’m about to cum” he groaned, his rpms mounting. “Cum in me Vadik, cum like you’ve never before” she shouted. He could feel his entire frame shaking with the intensity of his orgasm. Massive amounts of machine cum flowed from him into the tiny human, squirting with such a pressure she could feel it pressing at her bellybutton. It filled her insides as it drove her to orgasm right along with him. She let out a yell that roused birds from the surrounding trees. Silvery semen flowing out of her from around the edges of his dick and running down her ass crack and forming a large sticky puddle on the ground.
His rpms slowed from red line as the two of them panted from exhaustion. He held himself deep inside her, his fluids still flowing out around the edges. She’s so tight on him he never wants to pull out. “You’re such good lover” he said breathing heavily through his intakes. “I’ve not loved like this in a long time”
“You enjoy yes?” She still clung to his underbelly her mouth agape still trying to fathom the expirence she had just had with this armored vehicle. She had never heard of a BRDM-2 before tonight and now one was sitting inches deep inside her.
Very slowly he withdrew, pulling her off himself. As he does, it was like taking the cork out of a wine bottle, excess machine cum flowed from her pussy. He was so large she had never imagined she could take something like him. Carefully he moved her up to his underbelly to his face pressing her against it and gently whispering in her ear “my little human I hope you have new view on machines, I hope you have new view on me”
Somehow all she wanted to do is cuddle up to this big machine and he can feel it. He holds her close for over half an hour the heat from his engine warming her entire body. In a timid voice she looks to Vadik and says “can we go again.” He smiles “yes my love we can”
They continued over and over again. Making love to his little woman for hours. This was what he needed. He only hoped he had done enough to keep her. He wanted more than anyhting to just settle down and grow old with someone.
In the afterglow he remained buried inside her as she lay in the warm grass. She had come to enjoy the warm feeling of him inside her. With her head still swimming in the high he had given her, all she wanted was Vadik and every inch of contact she could make with his steely hull was a dream to her. She rubbed her cheek against him as his tendrils gently massaged her sore body.
She woke up the next morning to the warm glow of the morning sun, the BRDM still inside her. She couldn’t believe what she had done, she had just made love to a machine but even more shocking, she thought she loved him. She just lay there not wanting to move, thinking on last night. A while later Vadik woke still feeling her wrapped around him. “Good morning” he said kindly, pulling her off himself and rolling back off her. She stood, feebly trying to support herself on her legs. Her entire body ached.
“Vadik, I can’t even begin to describe just how much I enjoyed last night” she said standing naked in front of him. Tenderly she placed a hand on his face. Her body was still slathered with the remnants of last night’s love making but she didn’t care, this was the first time she had actually felt something for anyone in a long time. “If you ever need someone to keep you company or even more if you wanted, I will gladly do it.” She couldn’t think of more to say, just hoping that her words said what she wanted to say. She was pretty sure she was in love with him.
Vadik reached inside and handed her her clothing. “I am glad to hear you say that” he said as she put her cloths on. “I haven’t felt such a way in too long and for that night I am greatful.” He wasn’t sure how she would feel about what he wanted to say and he argued within himself as to whether to tell her. He knew it had happened. He hadn’t intended to make the bond with her but it was there and he had to ask her in a way that wouldn’t scare her if she would acknowledge the bond.
“I know you know little of me and we only met last night but I hope this expirence has brought you to like me” he felt a little hesitant, a little nervous “like me enough that we could be one, together.”
She felt passion for the sweet machine sweep over her with his tender words, standing there just her and this armored car on a beautiful mountain top. “Yes Vadik, I will.” She came and wrapped the corner of his nose in a tight embrase “I love you Vadik”
© 2015 “DELTA X3″ Account owner
All rights reserved. No part of these works may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
Chapter 1: Barely street legal
CIA agent Tyler Grant
12 April 2021, Private Estate of Mr. Carlo Anton, 2 miles east of Genoa Italy.
Agent Grant pulled back the sleeve of his tux checking his watch. It was about time for the show to start. He looked out the window just in time to see a fireball eroupted just over the hill. The shock wave shaking the windowpanes in the ornate ballroom. Frightened patrons shrieked as the ball of fire shook the chandeliers overhead many beginning to scramble for the exits.
That was his que. He casually made his way out of the ballroom and down a set of stairs, retrieving a long case he’d stowed the night before. The door at the bottom of the stares opened into a large garage, showcasing a number of rare and exotic cars. He grabbed a chair and propped it up against the door handle, that would keep any unwanted disturbances out.
The side facing the sea was a large glass wall giving him a clear view of the road and docks below. It actually was a nice night despite the chaos he had just caused. The moon was full over the Italian coast, it’s light reflecting off the water. This was no time for sightseeing however. A pair of headlights raced away from the estate down the switchback road to the docks.
He opened the case and removed small tool and applied it to the window. A couple of turns and it was through the glass leaving a clean hole about 10 centimeters in diameter. He reached into the case and removed the large Barrett .50 caliber rifle from the case and set it on the bipod then lay behind the rifle and sighted in. This rifle had altered more political landscapes than he cared to remember. Just last month and half a world away the mad dog leader of an undisclosed Southeast Asian country had been laid to rest at just over a mile. Three weeks before that it was the leader of a pirate group off the coast of Somalia form a helicopter on a windy night. He prided himself on his work and justly so.
Just as he had planned, the vehicle came to a screeching had at the docks and a group of armed men emerged looking around before waving another man out of the car.
“There you are” he said finding him in the scope as he ran from the SUV to the safety of the boat. The group quickly boarded a vessel and shot off to a large yacht moored a few hundred meters out.
Carlo Anton was one of Europe’s premier arms dealers, dealing also in drugs and human trafficking on the side. He was most well known for providing high-end hardware to third world countries in order to make smaller conflicts become larger in order to push more merchandise. Your basic bad guy. A resident of the CIA’s most wanted list for a while now but never a priority, until recently, regarding his involvement in a coup in Mexico. This had gained him a priority kill tag and the attention one of the CIA’s top covert agents. Dirty deniable undercover wetwork operations were his specialty.
The boat reached the larger vessel and they began offloading. Grant began putting the shot together in his head. Wind was still, the boat was just under a kilometer and a half out and they hadn’t weighed anchor yet, easy shot, easy op. One arms dealer dead, one illegal narcotics plant blown to smithereens. He racked the bolt back on the heavy rifle and let it slam forward, feeding a round into the chamber.
His cross hairs lined up right over Anton’s torso, he liked the head shots but at this range to much or a risk, but with a .50 caliber projectile he hardly even had to hit him for a kill. A few clicks for the light breeze that had picked up and he was ready. Breath in, breath out, empty lungs and slow squeeze.
Make that two narcotics plants. A second explosion eroupted in the distance as the second warehouse went up.
The heavy rifle bucked as it sent the hand milled 661 grain projectile downrange at over 600 meters per second. The projectile impacted the soft target left of center mass, obliterating flesh and bone.
The shot damn near tore Anton apart, splattering his personal guard in blood and mangled tissue. The bewildered guards looked around frantically to find the shooter.
“Well time to get out of here” he said to himself packing his rifle and turning to the door leading out of the garage. The rifle shot would have been masked by the explosion and he would be free to escape without anyone knowing. He policed up the spent shell casing and began walking out.
“Ah hell” he said under his breath as pounding and shouts came from the exit door. The chair hindered entrance but that was only temporary.
Time for the backup plan. He turned to the door at the back of the garage leading outside.
“This just isn’t my day” he said as two sets of lights rolled around the side of the building. Doors slammed as what he could imagine were 6 to 8 armed thugs unloading.
“Looks like you could use a ride” Years of training and personal expirence took over, almost instantly drawing his pistol from its concealed underarm holster. He could have, from the hip, without effort hit any target in the room as he spun around. One problem, there wasn’t anyone else in the room.
His mind took a second to process it but the voice had in fact come from one of the vehicles.
The powerful engine of a Lamborghini Aventador roared to life, settling to a gentle purr. She was a living machine, and what a machine she was. Her as sleak body was a sporty red, showing off Lamborghini’s signature sharp designed, looking more along the lines of a stealth fighter than a car.
He smiled chuckling to himself “So it would seem”
“Get in” she beckoned. The slender door gracefully opened in the famous lamborghini style.
Why would this stranger car want to help him. A trap perhaps. Well, options were certainly running out. The door wouldn’t hold there
He threw his rifle case into the passenger seat. Leveling his pistol he put three shots through the large glass wall, sending spider webs of cracks across the glass.
“Punch it” he said hopping in and pulling the door shut.
Her engine roared as her tires began to squeal and smoak against the smooth floor before catching grip and taking off, pinning Tyler to his seat. In a scene fit for Hollywood slow motion they crashed through the window onto the dark street. Within a second they had tore off into the darkness, the thugs scrambling to get back to their SUVs.
The two tore off into the moonlit Italian night. “So why help… I never got your name”
“It’s Vera” she replied, her accent making the simple words sound romantic “I’m glad he’s dead, that you killed him. That man couldn’t handle a car like me. He kept me in that garage as a showpiece, I could only look out and see the road. That was the ultimate torture. He couldnt take hold, didn’t have what it takes to drive a Lamborghini. Do you?”
He wasn’t sure what she actually meant by it but what he heard was a challenge. He grabbed hold of the wheel and jammed his foot down on the accelerator. Instantly her V-12 engine responded with a rush of power, pinning him again to the seat. They raced down the empty coastline highway. He knew how to handle a vehicle such as this, and he showed it well, burning around turns, threading between cars.
Vera was already turned on by this American assassin. She could feel his firm grip on her wheel and just how he drove her. That garage had been a prison. She needed the open road but she also needed something more, she could feel it.
“You are a spy, yes?” She asked
“I suppose you could say that”
“At the end of the spy movies, doesn’t the dashing spy always end up taking home the attractive young lady?”
“That he does” Tyler liked where she was going with this. He had never been with a machine before but she wasn’t just any machine. This was the oppertunity of a lifetime, only a hand full of these exotic beauties remained in the world.
“I know a nice little private villa in Nice” he said to her
“Ooh France. I haven’t been there in years.”
Together, they drove along the Mediterranean coast. He always imagined Europe like this as a young boy, fantasizing about racing a Italian super car along the Italian coast line . He could feel the gentle vibrations of her engine, everything about her was built for power.
She hoped she was reading his intentions right. A tendril emerges from her floorboards and found its way I to his pant leg. He didn’t struggle which for her was a good sign, he simply smiled as he continued driving. It creeped up his leg, across his inner thigh before wrapping itself around his cock.
The whole drive there he was pleasure by this Lamborghini gently stroking his cock, making it the most pleasurable ride of his life. What honestly more could a man ask for than driving a Aventador down an empty Italian highway on a moonlit night all while the Aventador casually strokes your dick. Not much he thought to himself.
It was a few hours before they arrived in Nice France. The sun had already risen and the forecast predicted a sunny summers day. They drove up a hill to a lone villa sitting atop a hill. The building itself fit in perfectly with the French countryside. It was surrounded on all sides by a stone patio with a pool at the back looking out over the water.
Rather than stopping in the driveway he drove her all the way around the house pool side. She turned off her engine and opened her door to let Tyler out.
He was looking forward to actually getting to have a proper look at her. He whistled looking over her sleek body. She was a beautiful assortment of lines and edges, all coming to a point at her front. He gently ran a finger along her bodywork as he circled around her. Her paint was smooth to the touch and he could feel her quiver as he touched her.
“I’m going to be frank with you my dear” he said “I have never been with a car before, in fact I’ve never been with a machine”
“I have never been with a human before” she replied “I’ve never been with anyone. I’ve been in that garage since as long as I can remember.”
“Then I think we will both enjoy this” he said beginning to unbuckling his tuxedo pants, dropping the jacket and stripping down.
“I hope you fuck the way you drive” she said.
He went down to his knees In front of the Aventador and pulled his cock from his underpants holding the erect shaft in his hand. With his other hand he reached under her bumper and lifted her chin. He placed himself into her mouth, her lips greedily wrapping around his cock. He could feel her begin to suck at him, her large wet tongue licking at his tip as he stroked her bumper and hood.
“You told me your late owner couldn’t handle an Aventador, couldn’t take hold, didn’t have what it takes. Well, I have a bit of a different approach.” He said to her as she coated his dick with her thick saliva, the point of her hood pressing against his abs as she sought to get every inch. He couldn’t imagine anything better than this. He had an Italian super car giving him head in a villa in the south of France. He was going to keep her, end of story.
She wanted this, she could feel by the way he stroked her body that she was bringing him unbearable pleasure. Her whole life she had just been a car. She never knew anything more. Her sole purpose in life had been to look pretty and awe people with the sound of her engine. She wanted more. She wanted that thing every lamborghini wants, to go fast, but there was something more. Something inside her had always burned, desiring to be satisfied by something she didn’t understand and somehow this was fulfilling her needs. She wanted more.
He leaned forward putting his chest to her hood as she sucked the pre from the tip of his dick, her soft lips and smooth tongue working his shaft. “Vera, I have something special for you” he said pulling himself form her mouth, leaving a sweat outline of his chest on her hood. He had to put a hand against her to stop her as she tried to take him in ger mouth again.
He stood and walked around her. This Aventador was all his. He could do with her body whatever he pleased. He ran his hand along her body, his fingers brushing from the corner of her headlight, up along the curve of her roof and down her back finally reaching the lip just above her driver side tail light. He moved to the center of her bumper and went to his knees.
“What are you do… Aaaah nhhh” she shouted as he jammed his cock it’s full length into her tailpipe, her body almost instantly clamping around his dick. She was so incredibly tight on him, he could feel her wet walls squeezing him as he allowed the sensation of the first penetration sink in.
“What are you doing” she groaned pulling air, breathing heavy through her intakes. It was the first time he had ever felt such pain and pleasure at once.
He began pulling out feeling her tailpipe begin to secrete lubricants.
“I don’t know if I can take this” she whimpered.
He wasn’t going to take that, he was going have her pipes until she liked it. Again he jammed himself into her.
“Mmmf nnnnh” he heard her moan as he slid himself into her again.
She could feel her chin almost brushing the ground as he lifted her ass end to get a better position. This Lamborghini was completely at his mercy.
She kept resisting, squirming and moaning as he pulled and pushed in and out of her. Gradually he picked up the pace, fucking her faster and faster. He reached a hand under her bumper and took hold for more leverage. Her body was light and built for speed, easy for him to really get her rocking. She locked her breaks tight as the thrusts became more powerful, gritting her teeth as her body lunged forward with each thrust her suspension creeking and moaning from the motion..
He pounded her relentlessly “moan for me Lamborghini you’re mine now and I want to hear you. I want you to feel it, feel it all through your frame and I want you to love it” he growled at her. He could feel her start to loosen up, start to actually enjoy this. “I’m going to make you show me why you rule the European highways. You’re going to prove the Aventador reputation.”
Vera was coming to love this, having this human fucking her tailpipe. She couldn’t help but moan and groan as he plowed her, occasionally giving her a good slap on her ass. His skin clapping against her bumper. Even if she maxed the tightness of her suspension she couldn’t stop the jolting motion of his thrusts, he was powerful for a human and she loved it. Finally a man who could handle her like she thought she ought to be handled.
He could feel fatigue beginning to set in as he slowed his thrusts, juices flowing from her pipes. Getting a car rocking like that could really take it out of you, but his stamina was far from spent and he hadn’t cum in his little Aventador yet. She was taking in heavy breaths through her large side intakes as he finally pulled himself from her. She oozed for him.
He knew enough about living machines to know that pipes weren’t all she had.
“Vera now it’s time for the good part” he said coming to his feet, running his hand across the glass panels that covered her engine, dripping drops of pre cum into her back end.
Without saying anything to her he grabbed the cushion off one of the poolside lounge chairs and placed it on the ground in front of her.
“Well what are you waiting for” he said laying down on the pad and looking at her.
She was so excited she almost didn’t know what to do with herself. She was so horny, so incredibly horny. Years of pent up lust were about to be satisfied. Her pussy ached and dripped for his cock and she was about to get it.
He saw a big grin cross the Lamborghini’s face as she rolled towards him. Lifting on her hydraulics she moved over top of him. He watched her under panels as they passed over. What an incredible feat of engineering he thought to himself. All this worked together in perfect union to produce the ultimate driving experience.
Her pussy was already hot and dripping as it came into position right over his crotch. Hot drops from her aroused pussy fell on his skin. He was going to make her shake and squirm. He grabbed ahold of her undercarriage positioned himself until the tip of his dick lay against her opening.
With as much force as he could muster form underneath the vehicle he rimmed himself balls deep in her. The force lifting her a little on her suspension. He paused for a second inside her, his back arched. He wanted to savor his first time entering a vehicle. Her pussy wrapped tight around his cock, it’s insides, hot, wet and ribbed to perfection. Her thick silvery fluids leaked onto him, his waist pressed against her tender lips.
Slowly and deliberately he withdrew from her looking down to see the silvery residue that coated his dick. he could feel something odd. It had started when he was going at it with her tail pipes. A sensation had begun to creep through his body, making him light headed and slightly euphoric, a kind of high. He wasn’t sure of it was something he had drank or some strange oddity about screwing this car but, he loved it.
“Vera, how does this feel” he said thrusting deep into her again.
“Please don’t stop” she moaned.
He would gladly do that. Pulling out again he jammed himself into her again. He got faster, each powerful thrust lifted her a little. She was a broad flat but relatively small car making her so nimble on the track. He was in love with just how much he could influence her movement. Such a light peice artistic piece of machinery would bounce and rock for him as he continued to pound her. His waist smacked against her wet lips as he went from deep powerful thrusts to a more rapid fire approach rocking her frame and producing a wet slapping noise as their bodies collided.
Her powerful V-12 engine roared with excitment. It’s pistons throbbing as it sent vibrations through her frame even further stimulating Tyler’s erection as it penetrated her. As her sensation mounted the auxiliary intakes began to rise from her fenders as she required more and more air to cool and feed her revving engine. Even her retractable spoiler began to rise a little, a thing that only happened at speeds. She wanted this sensation forever. Her tongue hung out of her wide open mouth as she panted and moaned.
She began to groan and quiver. Tyler could feel she was about to cum, his waist was already soaked with her fluids, he couldn’t imagine what it would be like when she came to orgasm. He thought he would out do her but all the sudden the feeling struck him.
His body went ridged, arching his back as he drove his dick as beep into the car as he could. The cum squirted from his dick all over the Lamborghini’s insides, blowing massive a load much overdue. At the same time Vera felt her body tremble with pleasure, her engine red lining with a deafening roar as his hot cum filled her, driving her to orgasm. She gushed a wave of hot juice all over his stomach and waist, screaming and moaning with pleasure.
Tyler lay there underneath the Lamborghini, his sweat soaked chest rising and falling as his lungs tried to bring in much needed oxygen after the workout he had just got fucking that car.
Vera couldn’t just believe what she had just expirenced. This was the greatest she had ever felt. It was the pleasure of going full speed around a track two fold. She wanted it. She wanted it over and over and over.
She rolled backwards until her chin was right at his abs. Vera extended her tongue and licked him from his belly button to the center of his chest. As she was about to withdraw he grabbed hold of her tongue with both hands, feeling it’s warm wet squishy surface in his hands. He leaned up and put the tip of her tongue in his mouth, taking one hand and grabbing the bottom of her bumper and pulling her close until her lips were pressed against his and they kissed. They made out with such passion neither could believe it.
They remained locked in each other’s embrace for a great while. “Vera” Tyler said as they seperated “that was incredible. I have to thank you for that. I never imagined just how great it would be.” He took his hand and tenderly rubbed her face.
“Tyler, I have no owner now, and you took me away from that place so I would like to offer myself to you. I never imagined someone would be able to handle me like you have.”
“No one would be able to take you from me.” She got off him as he began to get up. “Now I think there’s some wine inside if you’re ready for round two.”
They made love for hours, over and over again, every way you could possibly think of doing it with a car. A couple bottles of expensive french wine later and the two fell asleep.
He awoke to the sound of his phone going off, a couple of empty wine bottles laying empty next to him. The call had to be the office. He was laying on a ground level poolside bed, half covered by the large body of a Lamborghini Aventador.
She smiled at him rolling backwards to allow him to get up and retrieve his phone. He grabbed the device and walked inside leaving her to recall what had just happened.
He emerged minutes later, gently stroking his erect cock with one hand, a fresh glass of wine in his other. Making his way over to the futon by the pool he sat down. Like a good car she immediately drove over to him and took his morning wood into her mouth. It didn’t take her long to bring him to orgasm as she sucked vigorously at him. Just before he came he pulled himself from her mouth and lay his dick on her hood. His load exploded all over her hood, gushing globs of hot cum across her paint as her tongue lapped at his balls.
“Well I just got off the phone with Langley. You said you want to be on the road again, yeah?”
© 2015 “DELTA X3″ Account owner
All rights reserved. No part of these works may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.
I hope yall enjoy, this is a really long chapter compared to the others because I forced myself not to post or “elaborate” on any ideas I had for the story. It still ended up as pretty much two chapters worth of story, well this is chapter 19: Our house, in the middle of the street!?
Hansel was jolted awake the next morning by a loud explosion that made him instinctively spread his arms and legs out and straighten his back but was still wrapped in Marion’s arms and balled up in the back of her turret, where he knocked himself in the head, legs, and wrists real bad. He was inattentive of the pain and slid out of the space and hurries to see outside, he unlocks the commander’s hatch, pushes and throws the swinging saucer out of his way and the first thing he sees are black bomber silhouettes. He stands upright in the cupola, quivering as the full sounds of anti-air Flak guns and the air-raid siren strike him at his heart. Marion tries to get through to him, to calm him down and quell his emotions, she tries to push his head away from the sight of bombs falling on his home city but he keeps snapping back to it, all he hears in his head are Hitler’s cries and promises: “Not one bomb will fall on German cities!”
“He lied. He lied! Marion he lied!” He continues ranting on as Marion finally forces him into her turret. He lied! He lied! He lied Marion you see? He lied! She tries comforting him as she attempts to dress him into a proper outfit but Hansel just sits there unmoving, going on and on and on in complete and total shock, he begins to cry without a care.
After the bombers disappear and Hansel clears his mind to function somewhat properly, Marion rolls back up to camp to regroup with the others. Hansel sits on the periscopes on top of the cupola as she drives to the tank houses, and backs into her open slot, he spots Anton and Faust passing by, and runs out to meet them, Anton too is hit hard by the raid and Faust is trying her dearest to reassure him everything’s going to turn out fine. Hansel hitches a ride with them; Faust fills him in that she’s trying to get clearance to go into the city to help Anton get past it, Hansel agrees and hails Edwards and the Colonel for their attention and to approve of it too.
“Morally I’d send you in right now, but regulation says we have to get an accountability report and inventory check so for right now, permission denied, but I’m hammering asses to get this done in under forty-five minutes, so in fifty your permission will be granted. Only one thing; Faust, is it, will be outfitted with a rubble plow to clear the godforsaken streets. Dismissed.” With that he left and Edwards turned to fill them in on what’s going on and the damage known so far; “Alright, Kramia’s getting fitted with her new skirts right now, Fritz and Rommel are with her helping, two Flak guns and one ammunition shed went to hell, and the old metal house we were going to use for Marion’s skirts as a gift was hit, and there’s no more so you’re out of luck on that, sorry.” Hansel acknowledged, “One more thing, Jäger’s road wheels got fucked up by shrapnel so Irish is out in the field replacing them, could you help me by giving this to him, I’d do it myself but I’ve got shit to do.” With that he hands Faust the electric bolt gun and points into the field where they were.
Faust runs them over to Jäger and Irish and drops off Hansel and the bolt gun, then turns around to get herself fitted with the plow, Anton fell asleep at his post in the loader’s seat. He never could stay awake after his emotional moments, Hansel thought as he walked to Irish’s side, he was working on the center road wheel on Jäger’s port side; it was obvious that a bomb raped the shit out of two outer ones, and some marks were on her armored skin too, it had the anti-magnetic paint like Marion did. He stared at the textured net-like skin, he loved it, it was like a powerful hide where the bold indents, shapes, and angles of the hull turned him on slightly, but was snapped out of his thoughts by Irish yanking the bolt gun from his hands.
“Fine don’t hand me the drill,” Irish said rhetorically, “God, I hate those fucking bombers!”
“Why’s that?” Hansel asked.
“Well, I like them, they’re pretty sexy, but at the same time I HATE THOSE MOTHER FUCKING COCK SUCKERS that I wouldn’t mind if one were to suck mine.” Irish replied cheerfully, then in a dark angered voice, then cheerfully again, this literally sent Hansel reeling back stunned, and looked to Jäger’s face plate, she was looking up and right, unresponding.
“Whoa, first off, you’re attracted to machines too!? Secondly why do you hate them like that? Thirdly why isn’t Jäger inputting on this?” He asked in a concerned tone overall, but hinted amazement at the first question.
“Jäger? Nah she can’t hear us, she’s daydreaming. HEY JÄGER YOU THERE?” No response from Jäger, “See she can’t hear us right now, and yes I’m very attracted to machines too, even more than any human could turn me on. And, at one time I didn’t hate them at all, in fact I was almost a pilot for one, but,” His voice began to fill with emotions of rage, terror, and sadness, “but then they bombed US… My family was killed before my eyes in a… bombing,” the anger left his voice, it was only sadness and terror now, his bottom jaw began shaking and rattling as he spoke, “Those swinehounds dropped one down my house roof, into the kitchen, at supper time too, I was at the front door looking in through the window… one moment they were there… and the next… they were gone… the whole house fell in, they were gone…” He continues quivering, still haunted by the memory. “I never wanted that to happen to anyone and wouldn’t bring myself to commit such atrocious acts on another, so I didn’t go into the Luftwaffe, instead I’ll fight them on their weak field, on the ground, where they stand no chance at fighting back.” With that he reestablished his wits, and went to work unbolting the road wheels. Hansel put his hand on Irish’s shoulder steadying himself, fearing what happened to his family and frequently checking his watch to check on the remaining time.
“So uh, do you ever… to Jäger?” Hansel asks Irish, gesturing about masturbating in the pause. Irish frowns and tightens his mid-face thinking how to respond, he waves his hand signaling ‘maybe’ and proceeds. Once Irish gets the bolts out he signals to Hansel that the replacements are leaning against Jäger’s rear plate, but before Hansel can retrieve them Irish removes the shredded one and with it fall the two inner road wheels that were behind it.
“God damnit! This is why we can’t have anything nice, because of shit like this.” Hansel proclaims, Irish looks to him sluggishly and replies “No this is why we can’t have anything. Period. We just can’t have anything, nice or shit.”
Irish bolts the inner wheels back into place while Hansel holds them in place, then they replace the first shredded wheel and, without a hitch, the second one. Jäger enters reality and greets Hansel, then notices the wheels were replaced and takes them back to the base, asking Irish to put the armored skirts and plating on her under the case of ‘she feels like a naked whore’ and that she wants a tattoo.
“A tattoo? I don’t think that’s going to work Jäger, the needle is only about a few centimeters long.” Irish replies.
“You know what I mean you dumbass; paint my name right on the side of my ass.”
“Where the fuck did you come up with this?” Irish bursts out, almost laughing.
“You don’t need to know, all I need you to do is paint it on the side of my right ass cheek, but on the armor skirt panel.”
“Whatever you want, I’m not going against you anymore, not after last time.” With that Hansel slides off the side and walks toward Anton and Faust, who was prominently showing off her plow mounted to her front, Hansel waves goodbye to Jäger and Irish as they continue on. He walks to Faust and Anton, and notices that the fifty minutes is up, they can go in.
“Faust are you enjoying that plow?” Hansel yells to her sarcastically.
“Yes I am, very much so!” She yells back, Anton runs to him and grabs his forearm pulling him faster to Faust. Once the two are aboard Faust drives to the checkpoint, checks out, and heads for the bombed city of Munich. She speeds at top gear to the city and gets there in about two minutes, she’s a lot faster than Jäger or Marion, after all she is smaller and lighter. They head into the city; Anton and Hansel are stricken in horror, their home, their childhood, their very hearts, have been hurt, destroyed, crushed, and shattered by this one twenty minute incident. Once they turn the corner their very hopes are all but eradicated. Where their once inviting and homely apartment home once stood; was collapsed into the street and a ghostly cluster of pillars and walls only stand. Anton wept and Hansel sat in silence, gawking at the place he once called home. Faust was hugging Anton much like Marion holds Hansel, Hansel started letting tears out of their wells. Faust wrapped an arm around his body in an anaconda’s hug. She maneuvered around the clusters of people standing in the road and stopped at the base of the rubble from the building left in the road. There were average citizens and home guard soldiers all clearing rubble, searching for bodies, both dead and alive, Hansel had lost his family, like Irish did before he-
“It’ll take a lot more than a bomb to kill this old hag!” Hansel and Anton spin around at the same time, elated at the sound of Mrs. Walter’s voice. “Yes, yes, we’re alright, come on down here!” They race to her and almost tackle her off her feet in an embrace, then Hansel’s father joins, followed by Gretel and a young home guard soldier. They sit there in the mass huddle, then Faust is beckoned to join by Anton and figures ‘why the hell not’ and encircles the six people with her arms.
“WHAT THE HELL JUST TOUCHED ME!” Gretel screams as Faust’s arm rubs by her.
“FAUST IS TOUCHING YOU! WHY ARE WE YELLING?!” Anton yells a response, Faust retreats her arms as Gretel breaks free and squirms around.
“WHO the HELL is FAUST!?” She yells, as the group calms her down they explain the living machines to her; she composes herself but is still quite uneasy about it. The group somewhat disbands but none stray too far from one another. Gretel was about eight inches shorter than Hansel, but four years his senior; she had gray eyes and dirty blonde hair with full lips and thick cheeks. She was physically stronger than many men of her age would be, she wasn’t afraid to get dirty as her face and hands where darkened by the soot and dirt in the rubble and is definitely a tom-boy. Gretel appears stable and makes a comment and a joke about living machines, trying to enlighten herself; “That must be a hotdog down a hallway, I wonder if he’d put it in the exhaust pipe.” Hansel is somewhat offended by this, as it insulted a relationship with one as ‘one is too big for the other’ and being emotionally compromised he strikes back a little harsh for the situation.
“Hey! I’m dating one and it’s nothing like that at all!” His retaliation horrifies Gretel, she snaps back at him and they begin to quarrel like immature children. Their father over hears them and moves over to intervene.
“He’s not the first, Gretel, shut it.” Gretel stands frozen by this, “Before I met your mother, there was a beast I loved in my service days. She was Germany’s first tank model, her name was Elfriede, and we loved each other dearly. I still hate myself for abandoning her even if she begged me to save myself, but I’d hate myself more if I didn’t meet Sarah and have my two beautiful children named Gretel and Hansel!” He brings them under his arms and kisses both on the forehead affectionately. “Love is powerful, dear, you must accept it wherever it lies to be truly happy.”
Gretel nods and then aspires to her curiosity; she asks a multitude of questions in rapid succession. Hansel and their father try to answer to the best of their knowledge, conflicting in some areas, once her questions are answered to the best possible, she calls Max over, her fiancé, to finally meet Hansel, she then leaves with their father to assist with clean-up duties. The two shake hands and introduce themselves. Max is a tall fellow, taller than Gretel but shorter than Hansel, and slimmer than both as well. His muscles are quite defined and make his dark tanned skin attractive to the opposite sex, his dirty-blonde hair and brown eyes round out the face and chin, making his face an oval shape. His hair is a loose cut that needs trimming to fit the standards but fit him perfectly.
“After all this time you finally get to meet your sister’s fiancé, if I’m correct you’re a captain, correct?”
“Yes you are correct and now I know who to beat if you break my sister’s heart.” The two jest and play, sharing stories of their service careers so far. Hansel brings up how fit he seems, and asks why he’s not in the whermacht.
“Well I was, but because of my asthma I was transferred to ‘home guard’ or the ‘cripple army’ as we call it. Now that I think of it, you also might not recognize me now but years ago I had an instep, and my legs weren’t as defined, but some new surgery pretty much fixed that, does that ring a bell, Hansel?” Hansel pondered and found that he did remember him; he was shorter and lankier than a string bean.
“Yes, I remember you now, wait, how come you kept your composure back there when Gretel did?”
“Ah I did the first time I met one too, he was a kubelwagon on the training base, I eventually got over it and we became really good friends, but my asthma relocated me and not him so I haven’t heard from him in months, I think.” The two then decide to become useful and join in on clearing the rubble, talking and joking the whole time. Sadly, however, they came across five victims, two children, an elderly couple, and a policeman; they said their prayers and laid the bodies under cloths to await identification at a later time. The children hit them the hardest; they must have only been of ten and nine, huddled together like they were sheltering from the American onslaught of hell-rain. Hansel stared at those children, in the back of his mind he knew he’d never pity another American, that he would kill, without mercy, any American soldier wielding a gun, or a bomb, or a tank, he would avenge these poor souls whose lives were taken by them without their ability to defend, without a chance, without fairness. Damn you all, you Americans can send all the fucking Shermans they want at me and Marion! As long as we’ve got shots we’ll kill all of you bastards! How’s that for a fair fight you fucking child murdering little swines! He thought to himself, he’ll tell the others, if he didn’t Anton would. They wrap up a few hours before dark and say farewells then Anton, Faust, and Hansel head for base. They arrive at base and Hansel finds and confronts a commander, the LTC, about their recession from the front.
“We’re currently awaiting one more tank, some experimental super-heavy tank to show up. Oh that reminds me, the board demands that, uh, what’s his name-Irish, be reassigned to ‘her’ because of the ‘hundred-twenty-eight millimeter long gun on it. Don’t worry; he’s the only crewmember so no one else will be moved.” Hansel follows him over to Jäger and Irish, who was painting Jäger’s name on the side of her right ass cheek portion of her added armor skirts, as she demanded earlier. He was painting in white probably because that’s all they had left.
“First-sergeant you have fifteen minutes to pack your duffel bag with your personal belongings and accessories and have it on the ground. You are being re-assigned to a new super-heavy tank. Oh, and congratulations on your official promotion to tank commander.” Irish and Jäger look heartbroken, standing wide-eyed and jaw-dropped as the LTC turns around and walks away. Jäger pulls him to her side and protests in a cry “No you can’t! He’s my little sniper! You can’t do this to us!” The LTC stops and spins back to snap: “He’s still your first-sergeant! Stop your yapping and do it! You will see him again.” He spins back and continues marching away. Jäger is devastated, never has anyone stood up to her like that, ever, and she doesn’t know how to react but to continue pressing Irish against her body, not letting him go. Hansel wonders if they have a deeper relationship than this. Heh heh, deeper. Irish finishes her ‘tattoo’ and mopes about as Hansel helps him move out of Jäger, Irish pulled out his duffel, and threw much of his clothes in it without caring if they wrinkled, Hansel sat in Jäger’s rear fighting compartment door well, watching Irish collect his things in the spacious cabin, watching it was hurting him too.
Out of nowhere Irish perks up, and pushes one of the shot-charges out of the way and pulls out a baseball cap with a flattened brim and a pair of American Aviator sunglasses. He rejoices and exclaims to Jäger he found it, perking her up a little. He puts his canteen down and throws the cap and glasses into the duffel. Hansel remembers he had a pair of glasses just like them, given to me by family from… America! But I couldn’t be fighting them, the parents would be too old and the children too young, well one may be of age but wasn’t the name… Jennifer? As Hansel ponders Irish grabs the last two items, an empty Russian vodka bottle and a filled Molotov cocktail, the latter intended for use but didn’t shatter, the rag was charred at the end and pristine at the spout of the bottle, it was close to ending Jäger. Irish turns to the corner and reaches for a Mauser Karabiner 98K, but hesitates and decides to leave it.
“Jäger I’m leaving my Karabiner, for a token I guess.” Jäger sniffles and replies okay, Hansel points to the Molotov and Irish begins to explain. “This almost killed me, my crew, and Jäger, it landed right there behind where your sitting. I barely saw it, I threw anyone in my way aside and threw those doors open, I didn’t have anything to snuff it out so I did this.” He unbuttons his jacket and undershirt and reveals burn marks under his right arm and on his visible rib cage. “You ever try to snuff an oil fire before? You don’t put it out instantly, you let it burn all its oxygen, and in my case the fire spread to my jacket, burning and scarring me. This is my prize.” With that he put it in the duffel and stuffed the empty bottle in an exterior pocket.
They exit Jäger and sit in quiet, Jäger hugging Irish, Irish hugging her arms back, until Hansel asks if Fritz would be insulted by it, both of them said he wouldn’t, he knows how attached a crew is. Just then Edwards walks up, he heard the news. He climbs up to the roof with Hansel and Irish and plants himself next to Irish, looking into his bag he notices the empty bottle and pulls it out.
“Didn’t you collect this from a KV-2 you knocked out?” Irish nods, then smiles as he grunts a laugh. “Aren’t the KV-2 turrets hand-cranked?” Irish nods again, and then goes wide-eyed.
“Damn I feel bad for the man in there!” The two begin joking about having a long crankshaft with three-four men on it with vodka bottles on the ceiling as their motivation, the turret is tall enough, they said. While they joke Hansel spots something that looks like a Tiger II heading their way. It must have been the new heavy tank, Hansel was admiring the sloping armor glacis plates, it must have been sloped at 30° above the horizontal, 20° better than the Tiger IIs, and the lower glacis was sloped about 30° below the horizontal, the shape turned him on a bit, it looked sexy. The tank had no hull gunner port, and the forward mud catchers were in line with the glacis, looking like the whole upper glacis had no cuts for the tracks. The turret was an exact look alike of the Tiger II, only it sported two ‘eyes’ or armored rangefinder balls on the side of the turret, above the forward cheek but pretty far up on the slanting roof. The gun and mantle were monstrous, the 128 was HUGE, and the mantle was a symmetrical bell shape with large bolt-like inserts surrounding the gun brace, the muzzle break looked like a cheese grater to Hansel, but figured it worked better than Marion’s or Fritz’s. The beast of a tank turned to pull up next to them, when it did Hansel noticed two drive sprockets for the tracks, one in the front and one in the back. There were also less road wheels, though they were significantly bigger than the Tiger II wheels. The engine exhaust was also different, on the end of the pipes where radiator fans like on Mini’s exhaust pipe, Hansel still wasn’t sure what it did but it’s there for a reason he figured. Irish noticed and grabbed his bag and bottle and jumped down and sluggishly walked over to the new tank. The tank unveiled itself, somewhat catching Hansel off-guard, he completely forgot that they could do that. The tank spoke and greeted Irish in proper military format, the tank was clearly feminine.
“I am an experimental super-heavy tank designated E-75-” Irish cut her off, “Drop the regulation shit we really don’t play that game.” He stood upright and presented his hand out for a handshake.
“I’m called Irish, come up for a name for yourself yet?” He asked as she extended a manipulator and met his handshake.
“Just E I guess.”
“Nice to meet you E. So I’ve been told I’m your only crewmember, are you aware of this and approving?”
“Yes to both, go ahead and climb in.” She gestured him up to the commander’s hatch, where he reluctantly mounted, and entered. Edwards peered into Jäger’s hatch and saw Irish’s canteen still in there, he reached in and grabbed it, then slid down and walked to E’s side.
“I don’t think I can remember when Jäger last had a completely white coat in her. I feel like I dropped something,” Irish feels around his belt and finds his canteen is missing, he starts frantically searching for it, at the same time admiring the 128mm gun receiver, breach, and mount system along with all the fancy new equipment he’ll need to learn how to use.
“Ahem,” Edwards says holding the full canteen over the open hatch, Irish sits up and looks up and sees the canteen, he’s about to cry don’t when Edwards releases it. It drops down into Irish’s lap, specifically his sack, knocking him hard; he coils into a loose fetal position and falls over to the floor, groaning. E and Edwards laugh.
So this is the special elite tank unit of talking tanks, fascinating. Ah well, not long now, soon we’ll be killing any foe in our way. Marion’s probably worried sick about me; she’ll have my ass if I don’t get to her soon. E has a really nice ass, damn E’s really giving me a hard-on, maybe I could pay Marion off tonight and get a little ass for myself too. Hansel walks over to Marion’s tank house, where he finds her worried sick, and craving him.
Fin Chapter 19
The third installment of the When in Russia series.
“That must be it” Chase said into the comm helmet as they approached the Moscow airport, pointing at a small hangar on the outskirts of the massive airfield. The flight from Kubinka hadn’t taken long but he had enjoyed it immensely, soaring over the Russian landscape in Anya’s cockpit.
The cockpit of the Hind was tight but he enjoyed being surrounded by her and he found the pilot’s seat unexpectedly comfortable not only that but the view was extraordinary. He could look out over the entire city as she told him about the history of Moscow. Anya had even given him a shot at flying. Being his first time she coached him through it, telling him just how to pilot such a bird, a mechanical manipulator hand holding his to her stick as they flew over the sprawling Russian city.
“Let me do this part” Anya said taking control back as they approached the pad “landing can be a little tricky but I will teach you soon”.
Chase got that dropping feeling as they rapidly began descending. She wanted to show off a little so banking right she put herself into a steep dive before pulling up and coming to a hover a meter off the ground.
“You certainly know what you’re doing” chase said, his adrennaline spiking from her little stunt.
“What can I say” she replied “it’s what I do” she chuckled at this as they touched down, her wheels gently meeting the tarmac. She shut down her engines as chase opened the cockpit door and crawled down her side. “Is this it?” Agent Falkner said stepping down from her troop bay, almost having to yell over her blades as they began to slow.
“So it would seem” chase replied as the three began toward the hangar. Chase moved in close to Anya’s nose “As soon as we get in there Anya” he whispered so only she could hear “I’m going to make you squirm”
“Promices promices” anya seductively replied.
It was clear that it had remained unused for a great while and he wasn’t sure what he would find on the other side. The heavy steel door had no marking what soever and bore a large padlock. General Milonovich hadn’t given him any key or even mentioned there would be a lock. He tugged the lock but no luck. He felt something on the back and sure enough taped to the back of the lock was the key. “Wow, now that’s security” Falkner said sarcasticly. Chase removed it and unlocked the lock.
“Give me a hand with this” Chase said, pulling at the door which turned out to be much heavier than he had expected. Falkner grabbed hold and with a heave they slowly slid the large door open. The hangar for the most part was empty and in good condition. Here were a few cabinets lining the walls along with some maintnance equipment all circa late 80’s early 90’s. It was an average hangar even bearing a seating area at the back with some covered furniture. It was clear this hangar hadn’t been touched in decades, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust but otherwise not dirty or cluttered.
“Anya, what do you think” Chase asked as the three of them looked in.
“Its better than nothing” she replied. It was reasonably small with more than enough room for a helicopter to move about comfortably but not much else. They all proceeded into the hangar. Looking around, it was a little smaller than her hangar at Kubinka but she found it cozy. It would serve their purposes very well.
With the anxiety from the events of the day Anya couldn’t wait to release it all with chase. She was starting to feel it already, she wanted it. Her tongue unconsciously brushing her upper lip where her canon had been as she eyed Chase up and down, thinking of all the things she wanted to do to her little human. “I think this will do perfectly.” She said as they all moved into the hangar, Anya making her way to Chase’s side, snaking a tendril into his hand as she nudged up against him.
“Hold on” he whispered to her. He knew exactly what she wanted. “You mind giving us some privacy” Chase said looking to Falkner.
“I’m not supposed to let you out of my si…” he stopped mid sentence, his face going blank as what Chase was asking hit him. “Because of the ongoing investigation you have to remain under supervision”
“I don’t mind an audience, what about you Anya” chase said casually looking to the helicopter.
“Not at all Chase darling” she replied playing right along with the bluff “maybe Agent Falkner is secretly into machines also. Maybe he just needs a good Mig to take him to bed.”
“Fine” he huffed “I’ll be right outside”. He grabbed a chair and walked out the door “I have a wife you know, and kids” he said heaving the door closed behind him.
Anya chuckled “Were we really going to have sex right in front of him”
“Nah” Chase replied “I just said that to get rid of him. Were you?”
She smiled at him “If you wanted to.”
They both laughed. “Chase, I’m so glad we get to be together. Many machines only dream of a retirement like this. We can be together in American, yes?” Anya held his hand a little tighter, smiling as she looked into his eyes.
Chase could see the excitement in her eyes “Of course Anya. You can do whatever you want”
“Well, I want to be with you”
Chase nodded, he was still getting used to hearing affectionate words from a Russian attack helicopter. It made him feel happy, looking at her, still awestruck by the fact that such a powerful dangerous machine would want something so fail and delicate as a human. That alone was one of the turn-ons for him, her size, the danger. How did he get lucky enough to find someone such as her as a lover.
“So, now that we have this hangar all to ourselves any idea what we should do” Chase said casually.
“I can think of a few” Anya replied, sliding a tendril past Chase’s belt and wrapping it around his dick, gently beginning to rub and play with it under his pants. She closed her eyes, remembering him thrusting into her that first night, the thought making alone her wet.
“I like where you’re going with this” Chase said, unbuckling his belt as the Hind continued rubbing him to a full erection. She loved feeling the heat as his dick hardened in ger grip. He removed his shoes and slid out of his pants then removed his suit jacket. She loved this watching him strip down for her. In her mind she hated his cloths, envying them for getting to be hugged against his flesh all day, for getting to be pressed against his curves, getting to feel his body. Yes, she hated them. She planned to have him naked against her body every opportunity she got, and Hinds were seldom said denied.
He completed unbuttoning his white undershirt and stripped it off, letting it fall into the pile of cloths on the ground, right where Anya thought they belonged. She loved this, seeing his fit firm body. Taking a tendril she slowly ran it down his chest, tracing the lines of his pectorals down to his abs until it reached his under pants. The other uncoiled itself, leaving his erection hard and throbbing, ready for to make this Hind squirm. She slid his underpants down his legs, finally freeing what she had so desired for days now.
“Since you seemed to have saved me, I’m in your debt and being in the debt of a Hind is a very very good place to be.” She said seductively “So Chase I’m all yours to do with whatever you want.”
He couldnt help but smile, a Hind had just told him he could do whatever he wanted with her. Every inch of this Hind’s body was now his playground. His mind flooded with all the things he wanted to do to this helicopter. He had done nothing the whole time he was being detained other than imagine all the ways he would make love to her beautiful body. He felt like a kid in a candy shop, all the possibilities, all his little fantacies.
Chase thought for a second, looking around for ideas, one coming to mind. He went over to the seating area and yanked the dust cover off the couch. It seemed in decent shape after all these years. It was made of a soft red fabric with every generous cushions, the kind of couch you could easly doze off in. Anya raised an eyebrow, admittedly she was slightly interested in what her little human was planning. She moved back as he began dragging the heavy sofa to the center of the hangar. It took him a minute to move the unwieldy heavy piece of furnature, working up a sweat in the process. Anya licked her lips, seeing his muscles glistening in the florecent lighting was making her restless. She wanted him, bad.
Taking a rest he sat down on the couch letting out a sigh of exhaustion. “That thing’s heavier than it looks” he said regaining his breath.
“You don’t seem to have any problem with man handling 9 tons of helicopter” she said as she approached, a set of tendrils extending toward his knees.
She spread his legs wide exposing his entire package to her large wet tongue that ventured in between his legs, finding it’s way up under his balls, cupping them in a warm embrase, her chin compressing the couch cushions. Her tongue was slick and moist, it’s warmth and texture sending a feeling of relaxation through Chase. She began to play with them while a tendril reached up and began stroking the length of his shaft. Chase let his head roll back, putting his arms up along the back of the couch as she coated his package in her helicopter saliva.
She wasn’t about to stop there. Her tendril retracted and she began to inch forward, pushing his entire crotch onto her mouth, using her lips to protect his delicate skin from her razor sharp tungsten teeth. She could already taste the precum that seeped from him as she held his dick and balls on her tongue, enjoying having his tender human organs in her mouth, knowing how much pleasure this was bringing him.
“Mmmmh, that’s amazing.” He said gripping the couch’s material as she licked from his balls all the way up to his head. With an unnatural dexterity the tip of her tongue flicked at the base of his head causing every muscle in his body to tense. She couldn’t seem to get enough as she traced the ridge of his head before coming over the top, splitting the small slit and taking his precum onto her tongue. Anya could already feel she was dripping wet as she wrapped her tongue around his dick and began to slide back and forth. “How does everyone not want to be with a machine” he said, knowing she couldn’t respond, but she didn’t have to. He could see her eyes were closed, it was possible she was enjoying this just as much as he was. Not only was she going at his dick he could also feel her sucking on his entire crotch, he was getting a couch blow job from a Mi-24. This big girl slopping and slurping at him, how much better could life get.
She could feel him reach the cusp of orgasm and withdrew her tongue and pulling away leaving Chase’s entire midsection and inner thighs wet from her saliva.
“You never cease to amaze Anya” chase said as she licked her lips, placing her massive chin on his lap. He gently rubbed his hand against her face, feeling her armored flesh. Her soft breaths against his chest began to condense forming a warm moist patch on his skin. She had no need to breath through her mouth but could sense he liked it, humans seemed to enjoy little things they could associate with and she was more than happy to oblige. There were many things she didn’t understand about humans, she had never really been taught. Just as she would teach Chase to fly he would teach her of the world she had been brought into.
He didn’t know how but he could feel just how bad she wanted the the throbbing appendage just below her chin, she wanted it buried deep inside her.
He moved in close to her and whispered “My love give me your tail, it’s my turn.” She shivered with excitment backing off his lap, a broad smile across the Hind’s face. He watched intently as she wheeled her long body around, locking her rotars to the back towards her tail. Unashamed of the fact that he was blatantly eyeing this Hind’s beautiful ass “I didn’t know Hinds could even do that”
“Most can’t” she said, clearly showing off her posterior “Mil thought they could put Hinds on aircraft carriers, so they modified a few with folding rotars. Defense ministry wouldn’t bite”
She positioned herself at an angle to the couch “You may want to lay down.”
Chase did as she said, laying back down on the plush velvety couch cushions. This really was a nice couch, one he wouldn’t mind having back at home. He watched intently as she began backing up toward him, her tail rotor passing first followed by her gradually widening tail section until her fuselage reached him. She lifted herself on her landing gear, resting her tail on the back of the couch and putting her dripping wet synth port right over Chace’s head. Hot drops from her aroused pussy dripping on his face.
“I’ve needed this for days” he said, lifting himself to the opening he could already feel the heat from her aroused lips and, smelling the enticing smell of her. It was a wonderful smell metallic and mechanical but not dirty like grease and oil. A sweet arousing sent, lined with pheromones that chase couldn’t help but find irresistible. He moved in, closing his eyes and slowly licking the silvery liquid off her synth port, tasting this helicopters thick fluids, allowing the high from her juices to sweep over his entire body. It was glorious to be with his helicopter once again. It had only been one night but it felt like she had been with him his whole life, he just hadn’t met her yet.
“Anya, where have you been my entire life”
“In Russia chase, why?” She replied not understanding his American idiom.
“Don’t worry about it my love” he said pushing his tongue into her slit, slathering his face with her warm liquid. He reached up and began massaging her clit with his free hand as the other propped him up. He could feel her body go rigid as she tensed herself from the feeling. He never got tired of that, he had the ability to with one hand render a mighty Hind completely defenseless.
She let out a whimper as the feeling grabbed her. Anya was completely at his mercy but she didn’t mind at all. It was a new feeling for her. As the most dangerous attack helicopter in the sky she was always in charge, always the dominant party but in this case she didn’t mind this vulnerability. Allowing this tiny human to utterly take charge of her was oddly arousing.
He could feel her flowing onto his face, the juices running down his jaw and onto his chest. She put out so much more than he had ever expirenced but he recalled the first night when he had been absolutely soaked with her nectar, a majority of his body slicked by their love making. Love with this girl wasn’t a clean affair.
Eventually he removed his hand and moved his mouth to the tender ball of tissue, kissing and sucking her clit. Flicking and licking it with his tongue as she writhed, trying to cope with how much pleasure she was feeling in this moment. None of her lovers before had done this for her, the sex had been simple and uninteresting but this American had introduced her to a whole new world. She wanted those wonderful lips all over her body. Her chin was pressed against the ground as she arched her back. She had trouble admitting this but it was almost to much for her.
“Oh chase!” she moaned “chase stop stop! I’m not ready yet”
He smiled deviously as he removed his mouth from her tender parts. A Hind had just begged him to stop, there was another one for the books.
“Are you ready to get to the good part?” chase said as she pulled away from the couch. He could just look upon the woman he had come to love, a titan of a machine, the terror of battlefields the world over. Her broad wings and predatory smile, she was quite a girl. It still boggled his mind why this flying tank would chose a human. He would never get understand that.
For Anya she just didn’t care, she had her man. This human was hers and she was his. She would protect him with her life, with her armor, with her guns and rockets. She no longer had her guns or rockets but she was still a Hind and she still had a row of sharp metallic tungsten teeth. She would kill for him.
Chase laid down on the couch “come up here my love” he said as she wheeled around and approached the couch. She lined herself up and lifted her left landing gear and placed it onto the back rest of the couch. The strained furniture creeked and groaned under the helicopters weight. The couch back could hardly support her armored body. Her sopping wet synth port was just inches above his rock hard erection. He could already feel her heat and couldn’t have been harder, nearly a week of pent up lust was about to be released into this chopper. Her hardened underbelly felt warm against his skin and the velvety couch was just heavenly, crammed in this delicious sandwich he thought about how this was to be his for the rest of his life. She would be his forever.
“Chase, allow me to show my thanks. You will enjoy this”
“I will, Anya I most definitely will”
He positioned himself underneath her, feeling a tendril wrap around his dick, holding it in position. He felt the tip meet the hot soft lips of her pussy. His head broke the surface as he began pushing himself into the Hind.
“Anya you were generous the first time” he said, actually having to push to force himself into the Mi-24s body. She was unbelievably tight around his dick. The slick lubricants made the passage easy but he could feel her body squeezing his cock as it penetrated Inch by inch into her armored body. It was amazing, a glorious feeling.
“I wasn’t sure how tight humans liked it so i gave you what I would have given a machine, but I can see as you would say tight is right.” Anya chuckled a little.
“In humans tight is a unique privilege because the more ‘expirenced’ a human is the more loose they get and tight is more stimulating”
“Chase you forget I am a machine. I can make myself however pleases you.”
“Anya, this is perfect” he said gritting his teeth as he continued driving himself into the Hind until the full length of his dick was buried in her warm depths. Her fluids flowed onto his waist, sliding between his balls and inner thighs, between his cheeks before seeping into the couch’s materials. Her insides squeezed his engorged cock tight as he paused for a moment. The nanites from her fluids had already entered his bloodstream. His body feeling the intense calm relaxation, a enticing high brought on by her juices.
He slowly began to withdraw, the walls of her vagina hugging him with each inch. He stopped as the last ring held his head as if trying to keep it from leaving, the entire shaft coated with a thick silvery coat.
“Chase it feels like I was built to have you inside me. As if you were part of me. Promise me you’ll be with me forever, I couldn’t live without.”
“I promise Anya.” It must have been the bond. He could feel her emotion, her pleasure, her desire, everything.
Again he slowly began to push into her tight slit. She savored every centimeter of his girth as it slid into her body stimulating the thousands of receptors in her soft metal pussy. She shifted slightly on the couch causing the poor piece of furniture to moan and creek under this Hind’s immense weight.
He pushed against her underbelly as he reached his max again. A tendril softly stroked his face, tracing his jawline before pressing itself against his lips. He broke the surface with his tongue and gingerly licked the small apparatus taking it in his mouth and sucking her his tongue dancing with her tendril. Another snaked it’s way along his naked body around his calf, up his high until it reached his balls. She slowly began playing with his testicles, softly squeezing and kneading them.
He began pushing in, a little faster this time, picking up a steady pace. This was heaven for the two of them, these two vastly different lovers. A Soviet era Gunship and an American serviceman. Anya moaned softly for him as he grunted and groaned for her, sweat rolling down his body as he trusted into her even faster. The rapid fire slapping of his waist against her pussy splattered juices all over the couch cushions.
Gradually he grew faster and faster, thrusting so deep in this beautiful Russian machine. A tendril wrapped itself around the base of his dick rubbing that one hard to get part, just right. A manipulator hand vigorously running through his hair while she writhed from the pleasure, even getting into the thrusts herself. Chase could feel her holding back. Stifled moans owing from her mouth.
“Yell, shout my love. Let agent Falkner know just how good it feels. I want all of Moscow to know how good it feels.” Chase yelled to her.
As if being set free she let out a deep moan. Her voice echoing throughout the empty hangar, eventually breaking down into Russian chase couldn’t understand.
He could feel it, as could she. That pleasure they both worked so hard for, the apex, the climax. It was almost there. He thrusted as hard as he could into Anya, . The couch had almost had it. It groaned and creaked as tons of Soviet warbird bounced on the backrest. The over strained piece couldn’t take it anymore. With a loud crack the back rest broke from the couch, dropping 9 tons of helicopter right onto chase. Her armored belly pressed Chase into the deep cushions, the arm rests holding her weight, the only thing saving him from being completely crushed.
That was it. The feeling of all this Hind’s weight on his body was arousing to no end. It turned him on so much, just getting to sample all she was, this massive helocopter pressing him into the couch. It had drive him deeper into her than either of them thought possible.
At that moment the two climaxed. Chase shuddered as he blew a large hot load deep inside his helicopter lover, squirting globs of thick semen into her. She felt the pleasure of her lover as he climaxed, the hot creme exploding inside her. She came right along with him. Her fluids gushed all over his waist, absolutely soaking the cushions and running down the sides onto the floor.
“Are you alright my love” Anya panted.
“Anya, I’ve never came like that before” he said trying to catch his breath with a helicopter on his chest. “That was incredible” He lay underneath her, stroking her underbelly.
“You had better get out Chase. I’m not sure how much this couch has left in it”.
“You’re probably right” He said sliding out from under her.
As soon as he had she began working herself off what remained of the couch. He stood back and looked. It was like she was a prize, a trophie on a pedestal which is what she was, his prize, his trophie girl. She was somehting he could be proud of, someone he could proudly brag “yeah that’s my girl”
As soon as she was off the couch Chase sat back down on the ruined furniture. Anya rolled over and moved up to chase raising up to plant a kiss right on his lips. He could feel her still trembling from the orgasm, or was that him. He didn’t know but either way he didn’t care. He had a Hind, a dream of his for a long time.
“Again chase?” She said raising an eyebrow.
“You Mils sure are relentless” he replied. He would go again with her. He would go again and again and again if she desired.
She was just about to mount him for a second go just as they were interrupted by the sound of the hangar door creaking as it slid open and a man walked in.
“How about knocking first Falkner” Chase said frustrated by the interruption.
“I’m afraid you won’t be seeing agent Falkner anymore” a suited man said walking into the hangar. Chase couldn’t see his face yet but he wore a simple black suit and shined leather shoes.
The man picked up Chase’s cloths and tossed them to him.
He continued into the light. The man was well built standing a few inches taller than Chase. “I’m Karl Mastin, Central Intelegence Agency.” He reached into his pocket and produced a badge.
“Chase, Anya your country needs you”
Well, this is my first post here, and I don’t think I’ll get over feeling like I’m intruding on Ratbat’s site, anyway, this is my story (more like a book) that I’ve been working on for a while. If anyone has been following any of my previous comments or found my story on my Tumblr page then you already know what its about, for those who don’t the story’s set in 1944 in the middle of WWII and is in the viewpoint of a German King Tiger tank crew, specifically the tank commander, and the tank. It follows them on their adventures they face and encompasses some comedy, love, firefights, friendships, and yes, sex. I hope the story doesn’t crash anything, Word says it’s about 62 pages in it’s entirety, something that still amazes me in I’d a never thought I would ever compile something this long, and its still going! A thanks goes to Ratbat for letting me post here, well enough of my yapping, here’s my story. Enjoy.
“Dear: Mother, Father, And Sister Gretel,” Hansel wrote; “To answer your question on how my first battle as Panzerkommandant faired, I only have one remark: I fear the Communist more than the Americans! My reason is the American tanks are ill-equipped to combat the most modern and advanced Panzers the Fatherland has to offer, their only strength, as I have seen so far, is the vast quantity they can employ against our inferior numbers…” Hansel’s mind drifted as he wrote his letter home. He couldn’t help but think about the poor souls trapped in their “Tommy Cookers,” who died moments after being penetrated by a German high-caliber round. How heartbreaking it must be for their families back home, their sons and brothers and fathers dying in a foreign land, never able to attend a funeral, or burial ceremony. He thought of his family then, his father served in the “First Great War,” then after the service, his father met his mother in a pub in Munich, his mother was a bartender and they began seeing each other, they both had common interests as jokers and comedians, as well as a love for old literature, hence their first child being named Gretel, Hansel’s older sister, and their second child named Hansel. Comedy runs in the family, and as children growing up in the 30s, Hansel and Gretel were immersed in propaganda and their parents’ comedy. Hansel’s mind wondered about, until he finally ended his letter. “To satisfy your thirst for my progress, I have claimed seven kills in only the time of an hour and twenty minutes. Farewell for now, I must attend to some maintenance.”
As Hansel closed the note and gently applied the address label over the seam, he was called for. “Hey Sell,” Sell was a nickname for Hansel, he made most of his money as a child as an errand boy and a marketer, selling anything he found interesting at the weekly market. He grew to be more proficient at the task, and would sell things to his bunkmates in boot camp, hell he even sold stuff to his officer! He could sell salt water to a sea sailor; Hansel took a step out of his tent and was greeted by Inbred the gunner, a lanky, average height, white-blonde hair brushed back with a scruffy look to it, he’s got scars all on his back and his broad shoulders so broad, a wooden crate wishes its corners where that square. Inbred was whipped as a child, whipped by an ox that is, the ox wore a harness for the plow to be mounted on, and they tried plowing during the ox mating season, when the ox got rambunctious, and started bucking while inbred was in the pen, the ox threw the child’s chest against the wall, and the hardened leather straps whipped him, until his pa shot the ox. He was used to hard work, being that his great-grandparents where from Alabama and that he’s an American-redneck descendant, but Inbred was scared to the point he doesn’t work with most large animals anymore.
“It’s that damned radiator again, Meats says it won’t flow.”
“Again? I just fixed that last week, is Meats sure?”
“He’s positive- hey Sell, I’m pretty sure I’ve already asked this before, but, why do you always work the tank? Isn’t Meats the field mechanic?”
“Yes, Meats is the designated field mechanic, but I love machines, I used to fly crop-dusters, once, but I’m passionate for ground machinery, you know I built my first car right?”
“No, but that doesn’t help my understanding-“
“I feel at home, when I’m working on the tank, or anything, I feel a- a special connection between me and machinery, and I trust Meat to do a good job, but it doesn’t feel right for me to operate a vehicle I haven’t checked or worked on. Now do you understand?”
“Yes sir, I understand completely… So do you ever dream of-“
A large, hefty, robust man squatted aft of the King Tiger’s turned turret, his hands digging into an access hatch opening, the curses he rambles on echoes in the engine compartment, making his deep cello voice even more god-like. He stood up when he heard Hansel’s call; it’s a miracle how he fits in the tank: 5’11”, 280lbs, bulky broad shoulders, a chiseled chin, jaw, and brow with a bald head, his arms look like he could punch through a brick house with one swing, bold defining pecks assist that, strong legs apparent as his pants bulge at the calf and thighs and this is only displaced by a beer-belly. This is one of the rare times Meats gets to work on the Tiger, about 65% of the time Hansel does the work, and is typically overseeing the 35% he doesn’t do the work. “Hey Captain, have you come to oversee? Or are you “relieving” me of shift?”
“I’m doing both, Meats, I’ll oversee your progress then make some changes, I honestly think there’s more we can do to the radiator, so we don’t have to fix the junk later.”
“Good idea, Sir, Whacker’s on the radio right now. He might be able to radio-”
“The local girls,” Said an echoing voice. “I can do that right now, it’ll only take a second.” Whacker climbed out of the hull machine gunner/radio operator’s hatch and made his way to the antenna. Whacker was a little short for his age, 32, being only 5’5½”, and a little rounded, he has every other quality of a stereotypical Irishman- strong upper body strength under the flab, an excellent drinker, bright red hair, a thick mustache, chiseled cheekbones, and thick sideburns. He always wears pilot’s cap on, he wanted to be a pilot but he was too short for his want-to-be role, he could fix anything regarding radios and electricity, his step-father was an electrician, his father died in the “First Great War,” ironically killed by British tanks, he grew up in the inner-city, surrounded by poverty and crime and groups trying to seize political power, and isn’t interested in going back. He has a masturbation problem, hence nickname number 1, nickname number 2 is Whackaholic, and he also has a drinking problem. When he gets to the antenna, Whacker starts messing with it to receive a better signal.
“Gah lemme fix this up-”
“No, Whacker,” interrupted by Meats, “Radio command and inform them of radiator problems and that we are in control of the situation working on repairs now. Right, Cap?”
“Hold off on that, Whacker I want you to look for the nearest town, we might be able to find some better materials than what we’ve got. Then tell me of our options, after that we’ll inform command about where we are and the situation.”
“You’re the boss. Got it! Hey, Captain Sell, want me to wake Banker? He does have the map and he isn’t doing anything.”
“So what is he doing?” Inquired Inbred, “he’s sleeping again isn’t he? I’ll go wake him up!”
“Oh boy, Inbred really has the peeve of lazy workers; let’s see what he does this time shall we?” Hansel commented, they all gathered around as Inbred grabbed the toolbox, marched to the driver’s hatch, and flings it open.
“WAKE UP YOU SPOILED SCHEIßE KOPF!” Inbred then dumps the toolbox contents through the hatch, waking Banker, who then freaks out, along with releasing cries of pain barely louder than the noise all the tools striking the metal components and flooring.
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THE BIG ASS IDEA!?” Banker jumps out of the tank and confronts Inbred, who is a lot smaller and the youngest, about the action. They start to quarrel, and then limbs swing, and Banker loses. As always. Inbred gathers up the tools as Banker retrieves the map. Once everyone has settled, Whacker reports a town with a steel mill 50 Km east, Banker confirms. Banker is the second youngest; only 21 years old, with Inbred close behind at 19, but is the most immature. He acquired his nickname by ranting on about how his family owns a bank and how one day he would uphold the family tradition and take over the business; he never really stops talking, ever. He’s average height with blonde hair, blue eyes, white-as-silk skin, to sum it up he looks like the Aryan man you’d see on a Nazi poster, and absolutely HATES being called Aryan; he is not a strong supporter of the Nazis, but applauds the accomplishments and improvements they made to Germany in its darkest hours. With everything organized and agreed on, the crew packs up the tents, and set out on the journey east.
“Don’t go any higher than fifth gear, we don’t want the engine overheating, we didn’t fix the radiator yet, alright Banker?”
“Rodger that, commander”
Fin Chapter 1
After about 100 minutes, the crew arrived at an occupied French town whose name none of them knew how to pronounce. They bartered with some locals for a place to house the King Tiger for repairs, and another residence for them, the residence was abandoned but clean. The downside was there were only four beds; someone was going to pitch a tent or sleep in the Tiger’s barn or the Tiger itself. After a lengthy debate after Hansel said they could have the beds, proving the argument that unveiled right after his announcement unproductive, they all decided that the 6’2” officer was to sleep outside/Tiger house/Tiger. Indeed, Hansel is the tallest of the crew, being 6’2”, 225 lbs, and only 24 years old. Damn. Hansel didn’t mind, he loved the Tiger, it gives him confidence, it makes anyone who stands next to it insignificant in comparison. It’s just so big: 10’ tall, 39’ long, 12¼’ wide, really anything on land that moves is insignificant to it.
Every time Hansel closes and locks the commander’s hatch on it, he feels invulnerable, powerful, destructive, feared, but most importantly, he feels a unique connection- stronger than any of his other greatest accomplishments, his old crop-dusting job, his schoolwork, his top rating in gunnery and leadership at boot camp, even the car he built by hand doesn’t compare to this feeling. He values this tank more than all previously stated achievements. Sometimes, at night, Hansel will come out to the tank and lay on the turret roof, just thinking, pondering ideas, he even sometimes talks to the tank like the tank’s a being. He’s never loved a girl, never had a girlfriend, completely virgin to loving another person like that.
Tonight, though, he thinks of the question Inbred was going to ask before he was cut off. Hansel thinks of all the questions that someone like Inbred might ask; Inbred is very curious and inquiring, so there’s a range of things he could ask.
“Let’s see,” he said,
“He was asking: “do you ever dream of: _______?” hmmm,” this troubled Hansel.
“Do you ever dream of: flying again, no, no, he’s asked me that before,” Hansel thought deeper into the mind of Inbred:
“Do you ever dream of the war ending? Yes? Is that it? Nah that isn’t it…”
Hansel came up with question after question, but Hansel doesn’t really dream at all, he only dreams about one thing…
“Hmmmfff, he said: So do you ever dream of-“
“Tanks?” a feminine voice said. Hansel flipped shit. In a moment’s notice he undid the latch on his Walther P.38 holster pouch, and whipped out the pistol, safety off, in the blink of an eye.
“THIS IS A PROHIBITED AREA! PRESENT YOURSELF IMMIDIATELY!” He shouted, adrenaline pumping, heart racing, he was always protective of his tank, even more suspicious now that the Allies where in Europe, he didn’t want a spy or freedom fighter messing with his prized possession.
“Calm down it’s only us-”
“WHO?! I DON’T RECOGNIZE YOUR VOICE!”
“Well, first off stop yelling you’ll attract the locals, and second you’re on my head, Hansel,”
When Hansel realized that there was only one human in the barn, he got… excited. On quite a few occasions, Hansel would be talking to the Tiger tank, wishing that it would talk, unaware that it could, and understood him. He slid off the turret roof onto the driver’s hatch and turned around to meet eyes to left-side-eye, and was completely flabbergasted to see a large beautiful brown eye meeting his excited/on-edge gaze with a comforting one.
Hansel noticed movement just below the gun mantle; he looks to see and is met by a wide grin across the frontal turret plate. He was star stuck, for about 5 minutes he couldn’t even talk. This made the Tiger giggle a little, once he could talk:
“So uh, how long have you been able to…?” Hansel gestured to her face, indicating talk and make facial expressions.
“Ever since I rolled off the line in May, 1944; so about a month.”
“So you heard me all those times?”
“Yes, you’re very interesting.” Said the Tiger; making Hansel blush.
“You’re also very protective and thoughtful of me. I think you’re sweet.” This made Hansel blush more, and become frustrated, why hadn’t she said anything before? Why now?
“Why haven’t you told me before? Why now? And does anyone else know this?”
“I’m very shy, I was afraid you would transfer, and now because of all the things you say to me, all the events led up to me wanting to come out to you, I feel like I can trust you. I could have said it sooner but we were never alone together like we are now. No, you’re the only one I can trust right now, none of the crew knows.”
Hansel felt relieved, he felt like there was something behind his connection to the tank. Wait, he thought, she knows my name, and does she have a name?
“Hey, um, so do you have a name?”
“If you’re referring to a distinct name, like I know you by, no, no I don’t have a name.” Hansel felt sad, his crews’ got nicknames, but none of them, except Whacker, thought of a name for the tank.
“So how about-”
“I will NOT be named “Ladies’ Joyride”! NO WAY am I accepting that!”
“WHY would you think I’d propose that? We all shot that down IMMEDIALTY.”
“Well I was just letting you know, honestly I almost revealed myself that time, but you four ended that right there for me.”
“You’re welcome. AH, good old Whacker, I was going to say… mmmmmm Marion maybe?”
“I like that; I can live with it.”
“So it’ll be Marion?”
“Okay, nice to meet you; Marion.”
“Oh, Hansel, one thing?”
“Please don’t tell the other guys, I don’t want them to know, ESPECIALLY Whacker! I don’t want him getting ideas.”
“I’ll keep it secret, Marion, and one question: How did you hide your eyes and mouth from us?”
“OH! I have a cover that slides over my eyes, I can see out, you can’t see in, same with my mouth. To answer your next question of “Where can I sleep?” You can sleep under my chest. You’re sitting on top of it right now.”
“Alright, thanks Marion… So under your chest that’s the ground beneath your lower glacis plate, correct?”
“Correct. Sleep tight Hansel; see you in the morning,”
She then closed her eyes, and fell asleep. Hansel unrolled a cot kit, removed the legs and slid under the tank’s “chest” and fell fast asleep. While he dosed off, he answered Inbred’s question. “Yes, Inbred, I do dream of a certain tank…”
Fin Chapter 2
Hansel woke early the next morning, as he sits up, unaware of his surroundings, he knocks his head against Marion, who greets him a good morning. He instantly hits the cot again, rubs his head, and replies as he rolls out. “Ah, god that hurt, good morning to you too, Marion,” he walks around, to regain his bearings, “So you want to chat for a while or should I go wake the crew and repair your radiator?”
“Actually, Hansel, I faked the radiator to get you alone, I remembered passing this place on our way out and I knew you’d try to get to a safe place to perform any repairs.”
“Well, you were right on that. Now how am I supposed to explain that to the crew?”
“Just say you repaired me last night, you were worried and you couldn’t help but fix it. You do it all the time.”
“True, excuse me; I have to go take a leak.”
“Hansel, don’t forget your letter home. There might be a station out there.”
Hansel had completely forgotten, what with the events yesterday, and pulled the note out of the jacket pocket, and stepped outside to relieve himself and to find a mailing station. After finishing up with a local tree, he headed to the town, where he found a mail station to deposit his letter. Hansel then meanders around town searching for a place to get a meal.
“Looking for something dear?” Asked a stout elderly woman; “I could probably point you in the right direction.”
“Thank you ma’am, I’m looking for a place where I could get a meal, is that is possible?”
What he was really looking for was a kitchen he could use, with maybe some cooking materials, Meats got his nickname not because of his size, that helped but he got his name because of being the best damn meat chef in the whole battalion. Meats could turn a nine day old dead raccoon into a five star dinner better than actual five star dinners.
“Oh, I’m sorry sweetie, but we don’t have any of those anymore, the old one is down Charmayne Street, on the left.”
“Thank you very much, ma’am, that’s all I needed.”
Hansel waved a farewell to the woman, and headed down to Charmayne Street. Hmmm, if Marion could control an individual component of herself, could she work on her own? This idea and many similar ones drifted throughout his mind again and again. If it is possible, could we train where she could defend herself if we the crew were incapacitated or not in the picture? If we’re being called upon by an officer, could she ward off saboteurs on her own? He thought, and thought, and thought. Hansel realized that all the controlling herself questions he asked had to do with protecting her, from dangers he can’t be there to protect her from alone…
“OH GOD!” He stopped in his tracks, almost eating the dirt, “oh god, I think I’m in love, with Marion, a King Tiger tank, a machine!”
This realization made Hansel feel conflicted in his gut, the willingness to accept it, to finally love someone, someone who can respond, communicate, maybe even love too, he thought. Then he had the other side, denying that it’ll work, she’s an almighty TANK, you’re just a crewman to her, weak, incompatible even, and maybe even just a card and she’s using you, stupid! Hansel got to the point where he might throw up, so he started talking to himself:
“No, she’s not using me, and I might not love her, this is just a stronger bond. Maybe this is love, god how am I going to tell my family? Does she even have reproductive organs? I’ve been underneath her lots while working on the suspension and I never saw any groves like an opening, only access panels bolted to the hull. SHIT how did my life come to this?!”
He sat at the curb, head buried in his knees, just muttering to himself…
Marion heard movement outside; she closed off her eyes and mouth in case it wasn’t Hansel. The door finally opened and in stepped Whacker, “Hello, Captain? You around? I’ll just be on the radio,” Nothing different, Marion thought, Whacker will set up and get on the radio every morning, he’s not a bad guy, he gets on and listens to command and battle reports on enemy movement. Something that probably saved us twenty times, she thought. She let Whacker do his radio thing while she focused on other subjects, like Hansel… She never felt anything like this feeling towards him than anyone/thing else, she felt good, no, perfect, with Hansel around her, she knew that if this was indeed love, and he felt it too, that they would be able to copulate, she has the necessary “organs” to satisfy this need, knowing all too well human male reproductive anatomy, thanks to the man in the passenger seat: Whacker!
“OH SHIT THIS IS BAD” Speaking of the devil- thought Marion,
“THE ALLIES ARE 30 KILOMETERS AWAY!” FUCK-FUCK- FUCK-FUCK!
Whacker jumped out of the tank, and ran screaming at the top of his lungs for the others to wake up and get their asses to the tank. HANSEL!? She looked over to see Hansel, with a what-the-hell-are-you-screaming-for face looking at Whacker, who “calmly” tells of what he just heard on the radio; Marion doesn’t care what’ll happen afterwards, starting up her engine for maximum effective time to get the hell out. No one questions it while scrambling into the tank, commands being spoken, updates, the “Yes I fixed the radiator last night and DO YOU THINK I GIVE A SHIT IF YOU DIDN’T DO ANY WORK!?!” Banker pulls out of the barn, and makes a B-line to the nearest hills east, in a desperate attempt to hold off the first wave.
Fin Chapter 3
The group raced toward the hill about a half-kilometer away, Marion knew she couldn’t out run the American tanks; she could only carry her 70 ton ass at 40 km/h on a good road, although she is 2 km/h faster than the other Tiger IIs, thanks to modifications that Hansel and Meats made. However on the dirt and mud, about 35-37 km/h, uphill at a 30-40° incline; 31 max. She wasn’t overly fond of her mobility, still confident in herself, though, proud of her 88mm Kwk 43 gun that could tear right through any American armored vehicle-two or three if they’re lined up right-and can sit far back and pick them off where they couldn’t reach her if they tried. Anytime she had to get dirty, she was safe knowing that her 150mm frontal hull armor sloped at 50° and side armor of 100mm at 30° was impenetrable for the 75mm HE guns the Americans sport; as for her turret: 180mm front, 80mm at 30° sides and rear, she was fine. She only feared their numbers overwhelming her and disabling her where her crew would be forced to leave the safety of her hide, and be killed. That was her only fear.
Halfway up the selected hill, Hansel spotted some movement and small gray smoke trails and plumes about a kilometer or two from the town. “I see something, about a kilometer-and-a-half from the town traveling along the main dirt road running Northeast-East,” Hansel zooms the binoculars all the way max power to get a better look at the objects. “I confirm five American tanks, two half-tracks, a truck-no-two trucks, and an open MG car, in the column order of: tank-halftrack-tank-tank-truck-car-halftrack-tank-truck, copy?” The crew sounds off to affirm that they heard that a column of whoop-ass was headed for them indirectly.
“Alright where’re we going, commander?” Banker asks as they reach the peak of the hill.
“Head for the trees and hedge groves at 9:45 put our 12 facing the town. Meats, load up some HEAT, lets scare these fools off and then we’ll get out before more arrive.”
The crew follows the orders to the letter. Meats opens the breech, picks up the heavy-ass round and fist loads the round in the gun in under 5 seconds, thanks to his strength and hand-not-really-needed-eye coordination along with practice. The crew prepare for battle, going over drills and routines, Hansel sits down and closes and locks the commander’s copula hatch, Inbred checks gun/turret hydraulics used to turn turret and raise/lower the gun, Meats checks that his hatch is locked, gun safety is off and the breech is closed and locked properly while Whacker and Banker checks hatch locks and Whacker loads the hull MG42 7.62mm and checks the radio.
“Don’t fire until I say, Inbred, and aim for the lead tank, then hit the car,” Hansel instructed Inbred. Hitting a Sherman tank is no problem, at a half-kilometer a Sherman is a decent size, and the sights on German guns were spot on, now imagine hitting a Jeep from that far; doable with practice, yes-but what about when it’s moving? “Fire now Inbred!” A shot rang out instantly; if the crew wasn’t wearing ear protection they’d probably be deaf for a time, as the shot sped at the Sherman at about 982 m/s (3,220 f /s), Meats loaded up another round, replacing the spent shell with a new round in under 8 seconds-“Gun ready”-sounded to Inbred that he was ready to fire, and unleashed the beast on a small Jeep, nailing it in the passenger seat, obliterating it where it stood. “Fire at will, Inbred!”
Inbred continued to dish out shot after shot at the column racing for the protection of the town, each shell striking the mark, and tearing the target to pieces. This one-sided battle continued on for 10 minutes, the Americans dodging from cover to cover in the town trying to spot the Tiger raining hell on them, the Tiger tank trying to dislodge them from cover and send them back from whence they came. One Sherman tank caught sight of the Tiger, and attempted a shot; the tank pulled into the street from an adjacent side road, took aim and fired, to be met by an explosive end as its hit with no chance of survival. That one dared shot flew through the air, and hit Marion in her left cheek; the pointed part of the side turret that curves like a flat-ended oval, and exploded on contact, being for anti-infantry and light-skinned vehicles. Marion bit her lip and resisted to yelp in pain, as it felt like a bee sting. The Americans finally pulled out, with only one tank and halftrack, and both trucks riddled with shrapnel. The crew erupted in cheer, only for a moment until they realized the death and horror they caused- four tanks with crews of five, a halftrack that can carry twelve men, a Jeep with two poor soldiers, and an unknown amount of foot soldiers killed by shrapnel; not to mention any townsfolk who were unlucky. The Americans only fired once, opposed to 14 from their foes.
“Poor bastards never had a chance.” Commented Meats
“Alas, that’s war now, where men aren’t equal in ability anymore-no longer relying on wits, experience, skills, or even training-but on quantity, and maybe quality, of the instruments of war one possesses.” Added Whacker, it’s a shame he’s right.
“We didn’t even take damage, did we?” Inquired Inbred; with a cocky tone.
“No, we were hit, I’m amazed you didn’t hear it Inbred. From the sound it made, it sounded right next to your head.” Hansel knew they’d been hit, he was familiar with the sound all well, a misfire in live-fire training struck Hansel’s tank when he was the gunner, and scared him half to death. It bounced with only a dent on the turret.
“So that metal-ripping and tearing sound is what it’s like to get hit?”
“Correct, Inbred, now Banker; get us the hell out of here!”
“Don’t have to tell me twice-” Banker starts rambling on about who-knows-what.
Hansel takes a piece of chalk out of his pocket and tallies four slashes under “TANK” marked on the wall to his left, one under “1/2TRACK”, and one under “TRUCK”, bringing the total kill count to nine tanks, one halftrack, and one truck (Jeep). He still needs to paint the kill stripes on Marion’s barrel. He also needs to repaint the shot mark on her cheek, or maybe she wanted to keep it as a battle trophy, he didn’t know, he’ll have to ask her. I wonder if it hurt. If Marion even feels pain. He started to think about Marion, after a while he was brought back to grips with the crew when he overheard one of the conversations rambling on.
“I doubt you have a pinup girl as your girlfriend, Banker.” Responded Inbred to an unknown comment to Hansel.
“Hey Sell, do you have a girl at home?” Banker questioned.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend and…uh… I’ve never had one either-” Banker, Inbred, and Whacker started denying that, Hansel was pretty good looking, actually, and the three had a problem believing the truth Hansel told them.
Hmmm, I can change that, Hansel… Marion thought.
Fin Chapter 4
The group traveled for 2-3 hours before their stomachs demanded food and forced the crew to stop and ration out some meals. Banker brings up that the fuel tanks are half-full with the reserves added. So the crew check the map, try figuring out where they are, and eventually finds out that there’s a German camp just over the hill they were hiding near, and felt pretty stupid. They then proceed to ride in on the Tiger, not entering the tank (except Banker who drove) with all the hatches opened to air out the insides. Once the greetings where over and done with, they asked where the rest of their unit was, only to learn that they were one of only a handful that escaped the rapid advancement of the Allies, but there were still no reuniting with any company mates as they were so far-spread. Therefore, Hansel inquired whether he could get his Tiger tank re-fueled and rearmed; he was given clearance, and instructed to put his tank in the camouflaged tank house #7 where the supplies would be unloaded in an hour.
“Marion, do you ever wonder why the tank houses look exactly like enclosed mini-plane hangars?”
“All the time, that’s number seven right there.”
Hansel maneuvered the goliath vehicle into a structure with maybe a 4ft clearance above the tank. The tank house looked like a food can buried halfway sideways into the ground with hanger doors erected at either end, then painted green and brown with hints of yellow and foliage strung all on top of it to finish it off. Hansel and Marion talked for about 45 minutes and Hansel ate some supper, when they heard a heavy truck pull up and numerous German voices, Marion closed off all living appearances while Hansel went to unlock the door and let the deliverymen in, Hansel asked that the mobile fuel pumps and pods be left next to the rear right fuel tank, and the ammunition near the left. “I just want to be sure that everything is done right, no offense just paranoia,” when he really just wanted to talk to Marion more, who would only talk when alone with Hansel. The men left and Hansel closed and locked the door as per regulation.
“So Marion,” Hansel started as he fueled her, “how’d it feel when you were hit by the American tank?”
“That stung like a bitch,” Marion snapped, “come look at this, it looks disgusting!”
A long mechanical tentacle with appendages that looked like a hand appeared out from underneath Marion’s hull and touched the spot.
“Well you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you Marion?” Hansel said, a little uneasy as one of the smaller ones without a hand approached him.
“Oh, these are my hands and arms, and some are just arms. See?” Marion was letting Hansel admire the tentacle about a foot from his face. He lifted a hand and touched it; it responded instantly and jerked back. “They’re quite sensitive and your hands are freezing!”
Hansel moved to the left side and examined the mark; it was midway up the turret and had blown away paint in an elliptical fashion, stretched from right in front of where Hansel sat in the cupola to maybe 5-6” towards the center of the turret at about 4½” tall, and it wasn’t a clean wipe. The blast had torn up some of the anti-magnetic paint, and left black/brown scorch marks on her, the entire spot was like burnt scrambled eggs, just a ragged ugly mess. Hansel checked on the fuel, which had just about finished, and proceeded to grab a paint kit and supplies. He then started sanding and stripping paint on and around the blemish, so he would get a base to apply the paint properly and make it look good, that’s when he found out he had no paint for her Normandy camouflage, and instead prepped the gun barrel for the kill count stripes.
“So, Hansel how many kills do we have?”
“We have 11 tanks, 1 halftrack, and 1 truck, but I’m only counting the tank kills for the stripes.”
“While on the topic of numbers…”
“Go on, Marion,”
“Have you really never had a girlfriend before? Or did you just say that to get off the subject?”
“What I said was 100% truthful; I’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“Well,” Marion continued, with a sly grin; “we could date…”
Hansel joined in on the fun, they “joked” about dating, and how it would work as Hansel loaded ammunition letting the paint kill stripes dry. They went on to discussing how they’d probably need to inform the others. They thought about Whacker’s possible reaction; how hilarious!
“So Marion, let’s say this is our first date; what do we do?”
“Well Hansel… we ate; you and your food and me and my fuel, you dressed me up pretty; cleaning my wound and painting my guns, we’re at a, quote-unquote hotel, so we could…”
“We could what?” Hansel asked, he wasn’t picking up on her ‘breadcrumbs’.
“You know Hansel, something not typically done on the first date; we have known each other for quite some time…”
Marion continues on and on, Hansel still doesn’t quite understand, but Marion knew he was starting to think sexual, that he wanted her, and she wanted him so she got as close to saying ‘sex’ without using the word ‘sex’:
“We could do it, Hansel,” Marion finally said. Hansel’s lust for her skyrocketed, and she sensed it.
“Yes, but, but, how would it work? I mean,” Hansel’s mind is craving sex, he is ready, but scared. “What if I don’t have the correct-”
“Oh you do Hansel.”
“How do you-”
“Whacker.” Hansel curses and blesses Whacker as he gives in and starts to undress himself, he is then enveloped in Marion’s arms, one strokes his hair, knocking off his deflated officer’s cap, some untie his shoes, rub his skin, unlatch his belt and buttons on the pants, and yank them down to the floor as he steps toward her. He is completely undressed by the time he reaches Marion who thinks wow, he’s shaven everywhere, Whacker wasn’t, why is Hansel shaven? She tells him where he’ll find it: on the underside of the hull, about four feet center from the base of the rear armor plate. As Hansel is crawling into position, with Marion’s arms wrapping around his body, he thinks Wait, what if I’m too small?! This thought frightened him, with reason; proportionally, her opening should be huge compared to Hansel himself, though Hansel is larger than average in size of packaging, even that wouldn’t be enough. He was relieved when he felt it, though he couldn’t see it he could feel it with his cock, he slid down and was actually surprised that it had to be only about human size, and the teasing made Marion shutter; she has been wanting this for a long time…
Hansel slid up again, to properly place himself for Marion, who started to gently caress his testicles in one of her hands, Hansel then slid his erected penis into Marion, who let a muffled moan and another shutter out, slowly he pushed deeper inside her. Hansel was breath-taken, the feeling was astonishing, she wasn’t a machine at all, she was tight, and very soft and soaked, she was also pretty warm, even though the placement of her vagina is practically rubbing the heavy engine, and she wasn’t blistering hot or freezing, not even cold, like the engine that hasn’t run in maybe two hours, he couldn’t describe how it felt. He continued on and reached a plush ceiling just as he was completely pressed against Marion, his whole length was inside her, reaching the ceiling initially made Marion tense up, and moan and breathe harder and more sporadically. Nowhere to go but down, Hansel gently eased out, but not all the way for he was 4 inches in when completely on the floor, he repeated slowly for 2 or 3 repetitions, picking up the pace afterwards, this made Marion cry out in amusement and joy, she then rapidly became tighter, and tighter, and quiver more along with the moans and heavy breaths. Hansel theorized, and was proven right when Marion came, Hansel chuckled: “I thought that guys always came first;” Marion blushed and felt a little embarrassed, she assured Hansel that she had the endurance to go again, so Hansel pushed on, evoking more pleasure for Marion. Her orgasm left Hansel’s crotch soaked with liquids Hansel didn’t care at all to recognize, only making her pussy slicker, and reset for another go, this time she lasted longer than before, Hansel continued on, until at maybe what Hansel figured was 90% into his journey, Marion’s shaking became more violent, her vagina was tightened tighter than last, her engine roared at full RPMs, her gun coiled back, her face clenched up and the forward half of her suspension gave out causing her chest hit the floor.
“Fuck me my Panzerkommandant! Fuck me my Hansel! FUCK ME MY LOVE!” Marion exclaimed.
“YES MY LOVE!” Hansel eagerly replied gritting his teeth, as he had reached his climax and was resisting letting it happen just yet.
They released at the same time, allowing a loud and drawn out sigh of a satisfying and exhausting fuck from the both of them, Marion came stronger than her first, and drenched Hansel from knees to chest in the mixture of lubes and oils. Marion stroked Hansel’s cheek, and played with his hair, too exhausted to move, Hansel decided to sleep there for the night, somewhat spooning with Marion, whose vagina was gently pulsating around Hansel’s stiff cock. The doors were still locked as is protocol and nobody would have heard them through the walls and doors, nobody even knew, and knowing nobody will check on them in the night, Hansel and Marion slipped into blissful sleep, the best sleep either of them has ever had.
Fin Chapter 5
When Hansel awoke the next morning, he knew he had to tell the others about Marion and him. He climbs out from under Marion, who righted her suspension in the night and turned her turret to the left, and confirms his previous suspicion that she could control her body, for her gun was completely depressed down. She’s still asleep, completely relaxed, Hansel thought; why else would she let her gun drop? Hansel moves on and starts dressing himself, he leans up against Marion to put on his boots; as he does so, Marion wakes up peacefully, and kisses Hansel on the back of the head.
“Oh that wasn’t a real kiss!” Hansel remarks as he turns to face Marion’s smug face, they embrace in a long kiss. Hansel notes that Marion tastes like a mixture of steel, grease, oil, water, and something else; something welcoming and pleasant. Marion experiences a similar feeling; a mixture of tastes, and a warm, hearth-like feeling. When they withdraw from each other, Hansel can’t resist asking: “How did that just happen?” Marion only had about 3-5” of space between the turret base and the mantle overhang, so Hansel was trying to figure out how Marion’s mouth worked.
“Well, my mouth actually goes under the mantle, if you were to look at me level. It’s about- mmmmmm, halfway from the bottom of my chin to the gun brace, where my gun and mantle actually connects to me. When I talk my chin actually flattens, like a mattress, it doesn’t swing like yours.”
“That explains that to me, but how have I not encountered your parts while I was working underneath you? I’ve worked on the suspension probably 20 times and I never noticed an indication of a vagina.”
“That is the same as my mouth and eyes, it’s covered by an armor plate that slides open, and sinks into a slot; so it’s flat and smooth in either position, and sensitive in both, you have no idea how many times you’ve fondled me while working down there.”
Hansel chuckled; he always wondered why it’d start getting hot and leaky down there. Hansel focused, he told Marion he thinks they should tell the others, Marion disapproves; she’s still concerned and shy. Hansel brings up points on why; such as how she’s been listening to them forever, they are probably going to like a talking/interacting tank, Whacker will stop it inside her, how they just FUCKED, and some other minor points. Stubborn like an ass, Marion holds tight and provides a counter example:
“Hansel what if they lose trust in you for not telling them immediately? What if they lose faith in you? What if they are scared because of me? I’m a talking, living, tank who has been listening to them for their whole deployment and doesn’t even tell them or hint to them their vehicle is alive; wouldn’t you think they’d lose confidence and trust?”
Hansel slowly nods in agreement, but then retaliates, “Then it’ll only get worse until they figure it out themselves, Marion, it’ll be better if we inform them now. I’m not going to back down. I will tell them, they need to know, after all, they’re the only family we’ve really got right now,” Marion can’t change his mind, she decides that she’ll swallow her fear and talk to them. They agree to meet here, after morning meals, with the crew. Hansel goes off to the showers first, he reeks of Marion. Which isn’t that bad of a smell, Hansel thought.
After the shower, Hansel goes to the mess tent, and gets some breakfast rations. He’s taking a bite into this damned hardtack bread when the group walks in. They seem to always be in pairs, Hansel noticed, they did seem to always hangout like school children, in groups, usually Whacker and Meats that walk in first, followed by the youngest two: Inbred and Banker, who are always arguing over something Banker says. Today, it was French Toast, more specifically, what makes French Toast French Toast. Once the group sat down around Hansel, they started the usual morning conversation; how’d you sleep, any dreams, what are we doing, stuff like that, once Hansel had finished his breakfast, he told the crew to meet at tank house #7 for an important briefing and to keep it secret. They all complied.
“Alright, they should be here soon, Marion,” Marion’s eyes were darting around; she was biting her lower ‘lip’, indicating that she was nervous. “Don’t worry, Marion, it’ll all be fine, they’ll understand,” Hansel continues to assure Marion things will be alright to comfort her for a few minutes until the door was knocked on. Hansel checks the viewport and spots Whacker’s eyes 3 inches from his peering into his soul, “We’re sorry, Miss, for eating part of your candy house, all we wanted was some food,” Whacker jests total child-pouty face. Whacker could make a great comic, Hansel thought before relying in his witch voice: “It’s alright dears, come on inside, lunch is ready, E-HE-HE-HE-HE-HEEE!” Hansel loves himself sometimes.
Hansel opens the door and lets the ‘children’, retaining his witch voice until he closes the door and locks it again, and then he goes back to his real voice. No one noticed the beady eyes darting around or the stretched quivering lower lip being bitten on the tank turret.
“So Cap’n Sell, what’s the brief about?” Inbred questioned
“Well… it’s about Marion.” Answered Hansel; trying to figure out how to convey his thoughts.
“Who the hell is Marion?” Banker sounded loudly, “Ohhh! Captain was lying about a girl!”
“Well at the time I was telling the truth but-”
“You went chasing skirt didn’t you? Waytago Sell!” Banker interrupted, frustrating Hansel.
“NO! STOP!” Banker ceased immediately, “The girl is what I want to talk about, if you would all turn around, you’d meet Marion.” The bunch turned around and met Marion, who was shaking, and making the crew uneasy.
“Why is the tank shaking?” Meats said concerned.
“Ah, this is Marion, she’s my girlfriend.” Hansel piped.
“The witch is crazy,” Whacker said dully, “Although I do wonder how the witch got a 100 ton tank to shake like and alarm clock…”
“I’M ONLY 70!” Marion shouted defending herself, making everybody but Inbred jump.
“WHAT *gasp* THE HELL!” Whacker exclaimed, catching his breath.
“Well Marion, no turning back now, time to talk.” Hansel says, Marion looks at the bunch that all but two are confused, one not confused being Hansel obviously, but then Inbred wasn’t confused, more confident looking instead- standing tall, large smirk, calm composure and arms crossed.
“Why aren’t you startled?” Marion interrogates Inbred.
“Why because I already knew-”
“How? How did you know?” Hansel asks sternly and concerned.
“I’m not stupid, I know how to solve a puzzle with the clues,” Inbred goes on, “I first noticed when Whacker brought up a name for her, I noticed the sides of the turret above the gunner’s wall clench after he said that, like brows. I also wondered why the tank’s radiator was acting up; I took a look at it, perfect, no problems. Then when the tank was running yesterday, Banker was taking a shit when Whacker runs over screaming, and I know he doesn’t know how to start up the engine. Then clue 4, I didn’t take the first shot yesterday… (At this point Marion is blushing) in fact I wasn’t even sighted in on the tank! The next is when we were hit, I did hear it Hansel, but I also heard something else-a little yelp-a feminine one, too. Lastly, I was walking by last night…” He stops there, at the last clue Hansel starts blushing. “But what I don’t know is how long.”
“I’ve been hearing you guys since day one, inside and out, I was always there.” Marion comes out, this acknowledgement makes Whacker’s face turn white, and look horrified and stunned, as he then starts walking towards the door, “Bye witch, I’m gonna go home now and puke up all the candy I just ate…” is all he utters, he gets out the door and just keeps walking, and walking, and walking.
“Sorry, Whacker” Marion peeps as she blushes.
“He’ll be fine; I’ll just go make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Inbred says as he chases after him.
“So how long have you two been uhh…?” Banker hesitantly asks.
“It’s only been two days, Banks.” Hansel says, first confidently but then shocked as he realized how fast their relationship escalated.
“It feels like forever,” Marion stated, “And things unfolded quickly.” Marion smiles at Hansel, who shoots one back at her.
“So, let me get this straight, Marion threw the radiator out of whack to get Hansel alone to talk to him, right?” Meats clarifies.
“Yes.” Hansel says without a pause, Marion was holding back a bit, ashamed looking.
“And you two have banged already, right?” Banker says jokingly, a half-cocked grin.
Without a split-second pause, Marion shoots back “Yes” with a proud look on her face, the shy one in the relationship did this, leaving the outspoken Hansel with the ashamed look, and making Banker go straight poker face and stop still, realizing she wasn’t joking when he was.
Fin Chapter 6
Later in the day, after everybody calmed down, got things straight, and cleaned up the puke, they team set out to link up with the closest remnants of their unit and form an attack squad. Hansel and Whacker pleaded to be folded into the unit that was currently housing and supporting them, but they said-“We’re just too damn small,”-and by that the colonel meant that his Panzer IV regiment wasn’t going to assist the Tiger II at all in combat-as much as the colonel wanted a Tiger II in his regiment-he couldn’t support it or even transport it like he needs to with the Panzers, the Tigers just to slow. The rally point for the remainder of the now platoon-and-a-half sized unit is northeast of the Panzer base, a good 200km away. On a full tank of fuel Marion can only go 110km, so the crew had to carry external fuel tanks to get them there. They would be cutting it close, but the rally point is a refueling base anyhow.
The majority of the journey that day was uneventful, a little rain at around 14:00, but it was a long boring travel otherwise. Until about 3½ hours later…
“Hey Sell, I see something up ahead in the field,” Meats hollered into the commander’s hatch. Hansel stood on the seat/stool and looked over to Meats, who was sitting on the loader hatch with his feet propped on the loader’s periscope cover pointing literally in front of the tank.
“Ah, I see it,” Hansel remarks, “It almost looks like an American tank.”
“It’s not moving, and it looks like the engine hatch is open,”
“Yes, it does,” Hansel picks the binoculars off the hook and peers at the tank, “Indeed, they’re performing maintenance.”
As the group approached cautiously, Hansel removed the rail-mounted MG42 and ammunition and attached them to the commander’s gun mount right above the cupola.
“I don’t like this,” commented Marion, “I see men working unnoticing of our presence…”
“WIR KAPITULIEREN! WIR KAPITULIEREN!” WE SURRENDER! WE SURRENDER! Rang out in a panicky tone from the Sherman as they drew closer. Once they got close enough, the Germans counted five scared to death men, and a shaking tank. There’s more? Hansel thought, And it’s American. The Sherman was a tiny tank to Marion, being only a foot shorter than her, but only 19’ long and 8½’ wide and only half her weight, Marion felt completely superior to it. The same thoughts are shared by the Sherman, he felt insignificant in comparison to her, he couldn’t even muster the strength to elevate his gun level, and let it drop down in submission.
“Well, what the hell are we gonna do?” Whacker brought up a good question, “We’ve got to keep moving or else we’ll run out of gas, and we can’t take them with us or capture them.”
“You’re right,” Hansel thought-“Wait how do you know German?” He inquired.
“I taught him, commander,” An American said, he looked to be of German descent, Hansel thought, “I taught Chuck some German, didn’t think we’d need to use it like this.”
Well damn, what can we do? Practically anything, we may have to- Hansel’s train of thought was interrupted when Meats said “God damn us but we’ve got to shoot them.” The Americans that understood him started to cry, plead no, Chuck the Sherman shut his eyes and prepared for the MGs to start up, a tear rolled down his turret side. I can’t do it, Marion thought,
“I can’t do this,” Marion said, “This is my one fear, I can’t do this to someone else,” the Americans’ faces lit up with hope, “We’re moving on.”
Simultaneously, Whacker, Meats, and Hansel said “Agreed,” and Meats let out a sigh of relief, he hated the war, but understood what he needed to do, and Banker finally pipes up with “Well the damn transmission got drenched in the down pour so we can’t start up.”
“HOW THE-” was all Hansel could manage to get out before the Germans groaned in disapproval, “Well, it looks like we have the same problem, commander,” the American piped, “I see no harm in setting up camp until they dry.”
After the two teams huddled, deciding whether the proposal should be agreed on, they reached a similar conclusion of ‘well we can’t move if we damned tried our hardest so what the hell?’
The two unlikely comrades busted out their camping kits and set up shop around a good sized fire. Two of the American crewmen pulled an old WWI rifle out, some ammo, and marched off, before they got far, Hansel and the American tank commander Joshua ran over to interrogate their actions. The two promised they were hunting in the bushes for some boar or deer they saw earlier. After some time back at the camp, the members heard two rifle shots two second gaps, then later the two from earlier brought in an impressive boar, which they skinned, cooked, and carved. Whilst this happens, Marion gets bored and her curiosity takes charge;
“So, Chuck is it?”
“I’ve never met another living-machine… have you?”
“Only my girlfriend, Katelyn, that’s all. So I guess you’re single?”
“N-no, I can’t say that anymore,”
“Oh, so, is it one of them?” Chuck motions toward the group of men around a fire burning an overweight pig.
“Ummm, maybe…” Marion blushes a light red(?)
“Ahahaha! Which one is it?”
“There’s not many to choose from…”
“Is it… your driver? Umm-uhh Banker?” Marion doesn’t respond. “No, so… Inbred your gunner?” Again nothing. “Whacker?”
“Oh god no.”
“Hmmm, that just leaves Meats… and Hansel-” at the mentioning of Hansel Marion blushed harder, a darker red(?)
“It’s Hansel, isn’t it?” Chuck asked for clarity, Marion nodded her gun.
“Don’t be embarrassed by it, love is twisted, embrace it; how long?”
“Tonight is the second night.” Marion answered.
“Ah, it’ll get better; I just hope it’ll outlast the war.”
Marion suddenly realized this concept of possibly being forced away from Hansel. She started to tremble, she didn’t want anything to come between her and Hansel. Then she felt depressed, Chuck isn’t with Katelyn. Hansel and her are at least technically inseparable, as tank and commander, but Chuck and Katelyn?
“I’m sorry you’re not with Katelyn now, Chuck.”
“Yeah, I just hope she doesn’t get harmed, I don’t want her to hurt, so I try not to sacrifice myself, I hang back, and protect myself for her.” Chuck sighed in sadness.
“Do you have any pictures of her, Chuck?”
“Yes, yes I do,” His manipulating arms reached into his mantle and pulled out a little picture of two different Sherman variants. One was an E2 (Marion found out Chuck’s designation: M4A3E2 Sherman) and the other is a ‘Firefly’ Sherman, armed with a 17 pounder long barreled gun. Marion easily noticed a large sideways heart dent on Katelyn’s mantle, and asked about it. “That’s how we met, I accidentally shot at her in combat, and the round split, forming the heart.” How poetic? Marion thought to herself.
While the tanks were conversing, the crews were celebrating a glorious feast, even though it was burnt pig. The crews attempted to the best of their abilities to converse, themselves, but this proved ineffective so the majority gave up. Hansel learned a lot about Joshua, the two just clicked together like long lost friends. Later on, the group hit the sack, even though they bonded, all of them kept their side-arms unlatched and loaded. There was no need for use as all of them were exhausted from the work, and slept the night away; once awake, Whacker encountered Jackson, the Sherman radio man, getting on his radio. Huh, good minds think alike.
Once the crews awoke, finished off the remainders of the pig, they assembled their transmissions, and started off on their tracks, Chuck going west, Marion going North, both looking for their units. They exchanged information on unused radio frequencies, and decided on one to use if they ever wanted to chat. Within the hour the Germans were huddled around the radio waiting for a response; which came after about 2 minutes of waiting.
The groups happily talked for a long time, what else was there to do? Around mid-day, Marion needed more fuel, so they had to stop and switch the fuel out of the extra storage tanks mounted on her ‘back’ and transfer it to her tanks. This was a long process that took almost an hour due to cruddy pumping machinery. Once this was done, they marched forth, until they reached the rally point an hour or so before the sun will set.
“There isn’t a soul around, Cap.”
“Nope, not a soul. Wait I see something!” Hansel looks east and sees a Tiger II on the way flanked by some Tiger I’s, they look odd, though.
“Hansel it looks like that King has a bigger gun than I do, you see it too?” Marion was right; the approaching King Tiger had a larger gun than she did. A lot larger.
“Yes and it looks like they have stuff all around their armor.”
“Well there’s only one way to find out… wait.”
Fin Chapter 7
“What the hell is that?” The formation of modified Tigers rolls up; the crews disembark and cluster together. The Tiger II with the massive gun stops near Marion and shuts down as the crew exits. The commander appears from the cupola, a tall figure with a long face and a bold nose and brow that seemed to give him a piercing 1000 yard stare.
“Excuse me officer but, what the hell is that?” Inbred asked again
“This my friend is an experimental King Tiger; a King Tiger mark II so to say, I’ll let Fritz tell you himself, it shouldn’t be awkward, after all your Tiger seems to be alive as well.” Marion then realizes that she forgot to veil herself, what with trying to figure out the odd battle group fast approaching. “My bad,” Marion replies.
“I am Alter Fritz, an experimental Tiger II with upgrades including 105mm KwK L/68 main cannon, an improved engine and drive system, a heated cabin, over pressurized air filters for elimination of poison gas, a stereoscopic rangefinder, and extra ammo storage; along with a few field modifications here and there.”
“So why are you all here?” Asked Banker.
“We were sent here to support your unit, but as you know they were attacked by American ground attack planes, and it seems you all are what’s left.” The commander answered. They didn’t know about the attack, it must have happened while they were talking to the Americans.
“So a few more questions, who are you? Where is your detachment from? What is that gear on your tanks?” Hansel questioned, trying to figure out who will be in command.
“I am 1st Lt. Edwards, we are experienced fighters from the Eastern front, and the gear on the tanks are skirts from a wrecked Panzer. IV company cut and welded onto the hulls and turrets for protection against airborne anti-tank rockets; and no, the Tiger Is don’t have any factory upgrades, only the spaced armor added.” Edwards answered rather confidently. Hansel was an experienced gunner when he served on a Tiger I in Russia, but when he was promoted he was switched to a Tiger II commander on the Western ‘Atlantic Wall’ reserves.
“So I outrank you?” Hansel questioned, he never commanded a squad before, and isn’t sure if he’s ready, he doesn’t want to waste a whole platoon of heavy tanks, and certainly not a one-and-only experimental Tiger II.
“Technically yes, I was to rendezvous here and meet here with you, the commanding officer of the remaining ‘ghost unit’, but seeing how your records indicate no trace of platoon command, I would recommend I assume command until the unit is folded into another.” Edwards hesitantly said, Hansel knew he was right; he gladly turned command over to Edwards, and asked how the skirts helped their armor.
“The rockets the Americans fire at us are timed detonation; meaning they explode a certain time after impacting the tank, which by then the rocket would have penetrated the armor, and thus the rocket would ignite the containments of the tank,” Edwards happily informed them, pointing and showing the mechanics with a stick going through the crevices of his joined fingers. “However, the spaced armor tricks the rocket into igniting outside the tank, the fuse setting it off right after striking the skirts.” The group was fascinated, something so lethal and deadly rendered useless by a guy with scrap metal and a welder. Before Edwards could explain how he figured this out, a scout posted in a fire tower spotted a platoon of Shermans heading for the fuel dump, which was right behind them. The crews raced to their tanks, prepping them and arming for battle, the Americans had the drop on them, and would swarm them fast. Whacker was the last to lock in; he needed to get their radio frequency first. Marion asked which frequency and Whacker gave her the channel, the radio adjusted to the channel before Whacker could touch it.
“krrshhhk-THEY’RE COMING OVER THE HILL!” Was the first thing that they heard, followed by the roar of guns fired by the Shermans, they were met only by ricochets off the German armor barely leaving a mark. Two Tigers got their guns elevated enough to return fire, one just barely missed while the other hit one square in the mantle. The only way the Americans would be able to really damage a Tiger tank is from close ranges at the sides and rear, and these Shermans must have been veterans because they attempted to swarm the Tigers. Fritz got a shot off going straight through a Sherman, front hull glacis passing through the engine block and penetrated another Sherman, causing both to instantly stop and catch fire. While Fritz was reloading he turned to hit another Sherman charging full speed at his flank. The most unlikely thing happened, the Sherman couldn’t alter its course and rammed into the 105 gun; the Sherman’s gun is only a 76mm caliber with a barrel diameter of 96mm, and it rammed into the girth of Fritz’s, and was stuck. With the force of the impact the gun recoiled back, hitting the loader and knocking him and the shell over, Edwards thought fast and instantly dropped the rear access hatch in the back of Fritz’s turret; leaving an exit hole for the Sherman’s fire. The Sherman spammed shot after shot unaware they were whizzing through Fritz, passing harmlessly through his turret and out the back.
Banker instantly knew what Hansel wanted him to do before Hansel could command him, Banker pushed forward to 3rd gear on the gearsticks, moving Marion forward passing Fritz’s rear until the turret had a clear line of fire on the Sherman. Marion revved up her engine to the max RPMs. The turret on a Tiger two has two modes, hand cranking, and power turning, at maximum engine output the secondary motor could put the turret around 360° in 10 seconds; 36° per second, Marion knew this, and her turret was on target in under 4 seconds. Inbred lined up the shot, aiming for the base of the turret in an attempt to rupture the shot storage. When Hansel commanded fire, Inbred hit the hand pedal trigger, and sent one through the turret, still igniting the ammo and blowing the back of the turret away.
“Dammit we were high!” Marion sounded, almost in a jesting manner.
“Nah that works,” Fritz said as he backed out of the snag and turned his turret to hit a Sherman peppering the rear of a Tiger, doing nothing to render it ineffective; just messing with the exhaust and the engine’s coolant. “But let’s focus at the task at hand and swipe the Sherman dirt away!”
“Their numbers have been halved!” The over watcher in the lookout tower radioed, the sunlight was dwindling, and the light that flashed from the guns was starting to sting their eyes. “They’re pulling back! We’ve got them scampering off ha-HA!”
Suddenly Edwards comes over the radio and says excitedly yet coolly that he spotted a ‘white stripe’ Sherman tank in the overlooking hedges. A white stripe on a Sherman turret indicates a field command tank, and usually should be dealt with immediately; but as soon as he got that out, they all heard a low engine rumble in the distance…
“P-FOURTY-SEVENS INBOUND!” Hansel heard Marion’s engine stutter and sputter a bit, then roar back to its usual tempo.
“TO THE WAREHOUSE NOW HANSEL!” Edwards shouted into the radio, and Marion wasted no time making a desperate dash carrying her heavy ass to shelter. Suddenly the P-47s appeared from the sky and unleashed a hailstorm of unguided rockets upon the Tigers, their armor skirt mods worked exactly how Edward described it worked, and they sat in the field and took the punishment, laughing as it does nothing. Except Marion, she’s about 200 meters away from a warehouse when Marion feels a sharp pain in the back portion of her right side wheel and bogie system. Nothing felt wrong, until that sliding feeling on her wheels ended and she felt nothing on the tops of her wheels. She stops immediately.
“Excuse me Marion, but, WHY DID WE STOP?!?” Whacker says calmly at first then in a panic.
“I’ve been tracked!” She replies in a sorrowful and deathly tone, like she was about to cry.
Around the time this was happening, Edward pops open the cupola hatch and pulls a dual-mounted MG42 mount, typically reserved and used by the Luftwaffe for anti-air roles, which is fine and dandy right now. He unleashes the fury of ‘Hitler’s buzz saws’ and peppers the P-47s trying to strafe, the bullets do nothing to the airframes, Edwards knew this, but smash through the glass with no problems, scaring off the attackers with his accustomed accuracy, and moves his attention onto Hansel’s predicament.
“Looks like the boot strings need to be retied,” Fritz said jokingly
“Yes, yes they do.” Hansel remarks as all the crews park the tanks near the ware house and move to help re-track the disabled Tiger II, Hansel and Meats pull off two replacement track link sets for the tracks while Whacker and Inbred guide the track hitched up to Fritz who is pulling the track back into place while Banker cues his movements. Once everything comes into place, they had to figure out who will do the most labor intensive part: busting off the broken track links and bolting on the new ones, all with one giant ratchet wrench. All of them simultaneously turned their heads to Meats.
“Oh okay! Get the big guy to do it! I’m not going to this time.” No one looked away. “Damn you all.” Meats got the tool and proceeded, this time everyone took pity and helped bust it off. Then Edwards walks over and says that they have a motorized one… They were done in three minutes. The platoon huddled around a fire while a select few were fueling up the tanks and the reserves. They were discussing that the nearby building could house the tankers while the tanks sat outside, except for Marion. They said that she needed to be in the warehouse because of the fact that she couldn’t be camouflaged as effectively as the other tanks, the spacing beams on the tanks were used as tie mounts for the bushes and nets and other masking utilities, while Marion had none of these.
“Fine, but Hansel stays with me.” Marion reluctantly agrees to Edward, who continuingly pressures the warehouse on Marion.
“I see no reason why not, fine, Hansel you’re bunking with Marion.”
“What?” Was all Hansel said, he was in a ‘sleeping high’, where it was hard to focus on things because he was mentally spent and needed sleep.
“Just come with me!” Marion proclaims as she grabs Hansel’s rucksack carry handle strapped to Hansel’s back, dragging him with her while Hansel’s face says ‘I don’t know, I don’t care’.
“Hey Marion, what happened to your engine back there?” Hansel asked intrigued.
“Well, it’s the equivalent to shitting yourself…” Marion replied.
“So, what’s up? What are we doing where you wanted me her?” He asked.
“We are going to have FUN tonight!” Marion softly spoke to Hansel, which upon hearing this perks up, and snaps out of the high.
Fin Chapter 8
As soon as they got in the warehouse and locked the doors, they began to strip Hansel. Marion slid her hands under the layers of clothing Hansel had on and undid his undergarments while he undid the outer garments such as his jacket, headset and hat, belt, boots, etc. They got to it quick, Hansel hatched an idea and laid down on his back and kicked himself under Marion, who was oblivious to his position as she wrapped her arms around him. Hmm, this doesn’t feel like it did the other night… Marion thinks as Hansel shimmies underneath her, almost like he’s- Marion’s arm reaching up to stroke Hansel’s hair contacts a stiff but malleable shaft where his chin should be. Wait that’s not a chin what is he-! Hansel circles Marion’s prominent clit with his tongue right then, making Marion moan and shudder with enjoyment.
“W-Wha-What are ya-you do-oing? Ahh-ah-hah!” Marion manages to ask, completely enveloped in pleasure.
“Shhh Marion, I’m tasting you, enjoy love.” Hansel pulls out to answer, then goes back making Marion moan a bit more.
Hansel stops his circling, and drives his mouth into the split sending his tongue deep inside to search the area. He moves all around, looking for the spot, after a while it starts getting a little more wet inside. Hansel tasted some familiar tastes, similar from the kiss but this was more enjoyable tastes, the flavor danced on his tongue, so he started to make his tongue “dance” inside her warm caressing halls. He then realized what will happen soon and pulled his left hand up to his chin and inserted his index finger to test the tightness. Ooo she’s halfway! Hansel forces his tongue further into her depths, releasing loads of heavy moans, breaths, and loving remarks. Marion was in a completely new trance, the sensations the sensors inside her uterus were on a loving fire, and she couldn’t even think straight yet still knew how to repay Hansel for this awesome experience. She started teasing him, softly stroking his long hard cock, exciting Hansel more, tempting him, teasing him. Go ahead my love, grab it, don’t be shy- Hansel thought, thinking Marion was wanting to jerk him off. Marion started to rub the appendage that’s supposed to be a thumb up and down the head, forcing juices out in a slow smooth flow.
Hansel’s tongue then touched a portion of her lining and this certain spot made the engine rev up and the walls to tighten, Hansel found what he was looking for, he backed away from that spot ignoring Marion’s plea to return there; he was saving it for later. That later did come, the pressure on Hansel’s finger was immense, and his tongue had started to be constricted as well, Now I go! Hansel’s tongue made way to Marion’s G-spot, and French kissed it. Hansel took a deep breath and waited for Marion to release, she tried to hold out but the G-spot forced it out, all over Hansel’s mouth area and into his mouth as well. Hansel pulled out and coughed some of the liquid out, as a gag reflex, but then accepted the taste and allowed himself to swallow. The feeling of swallowing was eerie; sliding down his throat, but still he enjoyed it somehow.
“Now it’s your turn, Hansel” Marion said seductively as Hansel tried to spin around to insert his cock into Marion’s vagina.
She grabbed him with her manipulators and carried him to her face. Hansel didn’t notice down under that she was turning her turret at one point; she set herself up for repayment. She carries the confused Hansel to her side and places him on the armored track skirt, perfect height for her. Hansel then realizes what ‘his turn’ was, and fumbles up, a little shocked and concerned of what’ll go down, “Don’t be shy, Hansel, just relax and enjoy, love,” Marion then impels Hansel’s hard ridged cock into her mouth, and proceeds to suck on it and wrap her tongue around it. Hansel began to protest, but stopped once the sensations hit, his brain was nullified, and he began to slump over onto the sloped turret roof. Marion’s tongue was warm and soft; it was made of fine rounded links like chainmail, except a lot smoother, almost as smooth as a human’s but somewhat larger than a human tongue but not supper massive, and its entirety engulfed and caressed Hansel’s member, then it started to play with him. Licking one side until he was teetering on an orgasm, then stopping until he calmed down and did the same on the other side, then it started to stroke Hansel’s opening on the head, inducing “Gah”s from Hansel as this was an alien and unnatural feeling, yet still pleasuring. Then she pet the head’s top from tip to brim, eventually after a number of teetering cummings, she set Hansel up, got him to hold for as long as he could, then smiling awkwardly, licked the base of his head and member at the bottom side; a sort of male G-spot, and sent Hansel moaning and cumming.
All the previous unfulfilled climaxes piled up on reserves, as Hansel’s release was long and stimulating. Marion enjoyed the taste thoroughly, catching every drop on her tongue, savoring the unique taste and texture of it; it was warm and fluid, spurting out in streaks and first hitting the roof of her mouth before falling on her tongue, where it would sit, and start stiffening. Hansel erected his back, and tried to pull out but Marion was holding him in, she swallows and then gives a muffled ah-ah-ahh, saying that Hansel isn’t done yet, and he won’t be; he barely lasted half as long as Marion did, and needs to go another round. Marion kept his boner alive; rubbing and stroking it, and proceeded with previous gimmicks but changed a thing here and there. She implemented pulling him out to the brim then pushing him back in all the way slowly, Hansel enjoyed this, during this phase of oral sex Hansel went limp with stimulation; completely slumped onto her roof resting his lower portion leaving it in control of his lover.
Marion was growing tired, so she decided to finish Hansel, but in a disturbing and somewhat hurtful method. She went back to the basics, wrapping and caressing, until Hansel announced he was close, and then when he tensed up holding it in, she plugged his hole with her tongue. I’ll help you hold it, babe… She started to blow him again, only at a faster pace than before. In and out she swayed him, more and more did the pressure mount in Hansel’s penis, until the point he felt a sting; that’s when Marion gave in to exhaustion and removed her tongue to let it out. Hansel let out a long sigh of relief, and Marion giggled a little as this time the super pressurized cum shot like a gun and tickled the back of Marion’s “throat”.
“Now can I go back again?” Hansel asked in a seductive tone.
Marion just gave a nod, breathing heavily, exhausted by her actions. Hansel makes his way down under and rubs his dripping cock against Marion’s opening, each time he pulled towards him Marion’s engine revs up a quarter gear; he inserts his member and Marion lets out a loving moan. Hansel forces his whole length inside, Marion was still tight from the earlier ordeal, and before he’s all the way he reaches that ceiling from the other night.
“Marion what is this?” He asks as he probes it with playful thrusts, each one exciting the engine.
“Th-That-ssss mah-my cervix,” Marion tries to say smoothly but is interrupted by her heavy breathing and the stimulus Hansel produces with his thrusts. “It protects us machines from impregnation if we don’t want to become pregnant, I can raise or lower it based on the male’s size.”
Hansel stopped after Marion mentioning cervix, and he thought about her being impregnated, and wondered: “How would that work between us?”
“I don’t know, but that’s how the first Tiger II was conceived; a Tiger and a Panther fell in love and secretly copulated, the Panther gave birth to a heavy tank with sloped armor, they used the father’s name of Tiger and named it the second Tiger tank; Tiger Ausf. B,” Marion replied, then asked innocently “Can we get back to it now?”
Yes, Hansel immediately thrust upward expecting the ceiling that wasn’t there anymore; Marion must have retracted it deeper. He continuously pleasured Marion, until her forward suspension gave again and that’s when he paused. At that moment Marion’s rear suspension went perpendicular to her hull, and then fell onto the reverse angle, she locked her suspension so Hansel wouldn’t be crushed as Marion lost control of herself. Hansel knew she locked her suspension; his old crew locked the Tiger’s suspension in a ditch crossing, resetting that was horrendous; perhaps Marion can reset herself? Never mind that, Hansel thought, and focused on pounding Marion’s G-spot. She didn’t last long, exhausted to the point she could only quietly moan, Hansel didn’t last that long either; also being exhausted. They finished in less than two minutes, then they just lay there, but eventually Hansel climbed out, set up a cot and got dressed into sleep clothes, and unlocked the warehouse door while Marion reset her suspension. They looked as though nothing happened that night… except the oil and various liquids under Marion, but that’ll be gone by morning. Then as Hansel and Marion where falling asleep;
“I love you, Hansel.”
“I love you too, Marion. Sweet dreams.”
Fin Chapter 9
Hansel and Marion woke up the next morning, and proceeded with the usual morning greeting, a good morning kiss, how’d you sleep questions. Stuff like that, only Hansel needed to use the restroom really badly, and it was the weirdest and longest piss he’d ever taken; same with the dump; for obvious reasons. After he emptied his system his stomach roared at him, he hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, and so he headed off to the place the smell of food originated. He walked into the old office building and was greeted by the ugliest room he’s ever seen; the wood was rotted, the ceiling was sagging, the wall paper was shit to begin with but wear and tear along with nobody around to fix it made it look like someone painted horse shit on the damned wall!
“Great, just great.” Hansel muttered to himself, he walked over to the server and picked up a ration of food. The ration wasn’t anything to write home about, and that’s what Hansel wanted to do so badly; contact home, he felt a little more downed, the setting made him down at first, and at that moment he just wanted to be with Marion. He scoops up his ‘food’ and heads toward the warehouse; as he is on his way he stumbles into Edward.
“Captain Walter, the night patrol caught an American in the fields, as of right now he’s being held in the shift master’s office two buildings down. I would just like to know if you would care to assist us interrogate him? Your driver and radio operator have already agreed.”
“Yes, I think I will be able to, let me eat my breakfast then I’ll join you.”
“Thank you sir,” Edward then salutes Hansel, not a hiel Hitler salute, an actual pre-Hitler German army salute. Hansel dismisses the Lieutenant with the proper German salute, and continues off toward Marion.
“Hansel Walter? Is that your name?” Marion asks interested; nobody’s ever called Hansel by his last name around Marion.
“Yes, my name is Hansel Otto Walter.” Hansel grins, never introduced himself to a ‘lady’ like that, Marion nods and she then gives her ‘name’: “I am Marion Panzerkampfwagen VI auführung B, or Marion Tiger II, or Marion KöingTiger.” Marion searched for any other names and found none.
“I think your name beats mine, Marion.” Hansel said with a chuckle, trying not so spill his food. They talked for a while, shared views on the previous battle, and then Hansel brings up they found a survivor and Edwards and Banker and Whacker are interrogating him right now. Marion asks if she could tag along, what’s the harm in it? Hansel and Marion drive over to the shift master’s office; Hansel notices her engine isn’t running.
“Hey Marion, how are you moving if your engine isn’t running?”
“I can control my body without much fuel, I just can’t go very fast or get any actual power; I’d get stuck in the mud.”
Satisfied with the answer, Hansel just watches her maneuver around corners, hydrants, barriers, and anything else in the road with enjoyment; he really loves Marion. Marion snaps him out of his stare by asking why there’s a hole in the side. Hansel looks up and notices a shot hole in the spot that looks like it once was a door. He explains that it was probably locked so they blew it open. He climbs down from Marion and walks to the ‘door’, Banker and Whacker are standing there with aggravated and furious faces.
“The fucker knows German, and won’t stop calling me a fucking Aryan! Why won’t they just let me shoot this schweinhund right NOW?!” Banker is furious.
“Aaww! Is the Aryan boy mad?” A sarcastic and taunting voice comes from inside, Hansel looks in and sees a battered brunette man no older than Hansel wearing the same uniform marks as Chuck’s loader, only it wasn’t Chuck’s loader.
“Do whatever the hell you want with him Captain, just don’t kill him.” Edwards then storms out of the room, it was obvious he had enough comments.
“Oh look, the Nazis are getting frustrated, is it because their mommies don’t love them? Or is it because they were accidents?” The American was flawless in speech, and it seemed to have and Austrian dialect to it.
“He keeps insulting me, my parents, AND MY CAP!” Whacker grunts, he and Hansel go way back to Hansel’s first deployment, and Hansel knows how he cherishes his pilot cap.
“The fat pilot loves his hat, too bad it’ll never be used in a plane; he’s just too short and fat!” Hansel flinches, he knew that one hurt, he dismisses the two to relieve some steam. Marion asks with a chuckle: “This isn’t how interrogations usually go; is it?”
“I hear a Nazi whore!”
“No, I don’t get around at all, I’m no whore.” Marion shoots back confidently. The American sits up and leans back, scoots the chair he’s tied to over, and spots Marion through the window with a cocky smile.
“And it’s not just any whore; it’s a TANK whore! How many have you banged?” He looks right at her, Marion loses her confidence, not sure how to respond. He keeps pressuring her, diminishing her facade, then Hansel steps in to defend her.
“Ooo, she bangs people too! That must double the slut rating, how many times you fuck this Nazi? Wait let me guess!” He continues to count off random numbers; Hansel insists he cease his insults to her, to instead insult him like a man and not a lady like a bitch.
“Oh, so she’s special to you? Like you two are dating; too bad she’s seeing others because you can’t please her. You could do better than that whore-” Hansel commands him to stop, the rage building inside of him, here this little shit has the nerve to insult his girlfriend while he sits in captivity. The American pushes on, repeatedly calling Marion a slut and a whore. Marion can’t take anymore; she breaks and starts sobbing softly.
“Oh look at that; she cries because she knows it’s true!”
Hansel grabs the chair by the back rest and drags the American to a vacant enclosed room; ignoring the taunting remarks from the American. He closes and locks the door. Thirty minutes later he emerges, wiping off his knuckles and using some of the American’s ripped clothing to wipe off his boots and buckles. Not many people dare ask what he did to him, and those who do aren’t answered. Edwards checks to see if he is still alive; he’s greeted by the American giving him the answers to questions asked before Hansel’s arrival.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Hansel asks Marion, Marion sniffles and nods; Hansel asks if there was anything he could do for her. She doesn’t reply, so Hansel wraps his arms around Marion’s gun barrel like a hug and says he could paint the 3 kill stripes they earned. Marion perks up and rolls over to their warehouse. They did more than paint stripes. Awhile after the pick-me-up fun, Edwards knocks at the door. Hansel opens the personnel door, and greets Edwards.
“I would have told you earlier but Alter Fritz said to give you two your alone time.” He said awkwardly, aware of what ‘alone time’ was.
“Oh, sorry, is that a problem?” Hansel asks, Edwards assures that it isn’t a problem, and goes on to inform him that the Americans have a large fuel reserve station on the Belgium coast, and that (other minor stuff not really appealing) and that he is a Jew from Austria.
“He’s a Jew?” Hansel asks, he personally didn’t care about the Jews being a ‘problem’, neither did Edwards, but-
“So what he’s a Jew, what’s so special about that?” Marion asks, she interrupted Hansel mid thought.
“Oh it means nothing, we’ll just leave him here when we evacuate. The Americans will deal with him.” Hansel answered. So that is what they did, evacuate almost immediately.
Fin Chapter 10
The Americans were mounting a few kilometers away, the German company needed to move fast. Hansel didn’t notice that the battle group was an entire full scale company, complete with fuel trucks, ammo trucks, and the other necessary utilities where included; they had set up at the fuel depot already when the tank squad moved to meet up with Hansel the other day. The tanks were getting into the formation when Fritz notices a small ball of fur under his overhang on the back of his turret; he spins his turret around and is met with large frightened cat eyes. Fritz is confused as what to do, he’s never encountered a cat before, it hasn’t run off yet, and his engine is running while the cat doesn’t seem to care. The cat looks like it sounds off, and starts rubbing its face on the groves on Fritz’s bell-shaped mantle, the reverberations he feels must be the cat purring; it likes him! Fritz smiles, he appreciates the small things in life, at any instant his could be whisked away and he wants to know he died satisfied he enjoyed his life.
“Hey there little guy, what are you doing?” Fritz asks the cat, the cat just looks at him and appears to answer; the sound drowned out by the engine. “You remind me of Jäger, you want to tag along little one?” The cat jumped onto his gun, adjusted and jumped onto his roof and crawled into the cable-mount eye on the slope then lies down compliantly. The cat was a gray with dark spots that almost looked green, its tail was short and its fur was thick, its green eyes were menacing, and it seems to be a skilled hunter for its health and weight. Edwards climbed up and looked at the cat.
“Alter Fritz who is this?” He asked, “I think I’ll name him Franz. He’s my cat now.” Fritz replied, sounding childish; Edwards smiled and just dropped his head and shook it no, laughing a bit as he continued mounting the tank. Franz ran over to the open hatch and jumped inside. Not a fuck was given by anyone.
The formation fell in, and they all rolled out eastward, Edwards made contact with command and they instructed the company to return to Edwards’ old unit stationed near Munich for enlistment purposes. Hansel was giddy when he heard the news he would be returning home for a while. Marion brought up how she could meet his folks in ‘person’. Hansel turned quiet, signaling he had to think of a plan to do this, he never thought about actually introducing Marion to his family, he’s thought of their reactions but never telling them. Munich was a long, long, LONG ways away, so he would have plenty of time to formulate his plans, and to prepare for the possible reactions; most of them unapprovingly but Hansel knew he’d end up staying with Marion anyway.
It took about 3-4 weeks to travel, what with the speed, refueling, camp stops, air scrambles and breakdowns, otherwise everything was according to the planned times. When they were in a 3 day away window, Fritz would grow ever more anxious to get there, and would often leave the group behind until he would run low on fuel and stop to wait for the convoy to catch up. Edwards knew why and would laugh, he left Hansel and the others out in the blue as to the reason, but this was acceptable for Hansel and Marion had their own secrets. After long weeks of traveling, they finally reached the outpost at Munich. God how this changed! Hansel thought, when he left there weren’t AA guns or searchlights everywhere to be seen. It looked like a military occupation, but understood this was all because of the bombers.
“Fritz!” Marion and Hansel look over to see a JägdTiger go full speed towards Fritz, they both had a huge smile, the man on the roof of the J-Tiger did not however. He was caught off-guard and was thrown out of the hatch his legs were sitting in, rolled off the roof, and caught himself on the rear view periscope cover so he wouldn’t be thrown off the back after he slammed into the engine cover. The tank destroyer slammed into full reverse to slow herself down so not to smash Fritz, who had elevated his gun so that once she stopped next to him, it wouldn’t be interfering them while they kissed.
“Damnit Jäger you made me spill me drink! And it’s about time you got your white-ass back here Edwards!” The man who was on the roof stood up and threw his cup at Edwards with a smile, he was a little short to the J-Tiger of course but only 5’10” and was pretty slim, he was of Irish ancestry, you could hear it in his speech but he looked like an Irishman: really white skin, bright auburn-red hair in a long hair flat top style and hair everywhere on his arms, legs, chest, high cheekbones and a rounded chin with a broad grin, freckles everywhere. He had wide ears, a comfortable and approachable looking person, then when Hansel and Marion caught a look at his eyes they were breath taken, his eyes looked like a storm; a blue iris with a white lining and arms that stretched out encircled the pupil. He walks across to Fritz’s hull roof and walks over to Edwards and gives him a definite brothers’ hug. The two engaged in conversation as they had not seen each other in a long time. The tanks retract from their kiss and cuddle, talking to each other softly, The JägdTiger who must be named Jäger looked into Fritz’s eyes seductively, Fritz’s crew disembark and leave the couple to themselves, Edwards and the Irishman walk over to Hansel, Marion, and the rest of the crew standing around Marion and introduces everyone to the stranger.
“Well it’s nice meeting you, my name is Hans, but you can call me Irish, you all see where that came from obviously.”
“Irish where the hell is Jäger’s skirts?” Edwards asks, punching him playfully as he asks with a comic tone.
“She wanted them off, to quote-unquote “fully seduce” Fritz, I’m convinced it’d work either way; skirt or no skirt. I noticed there was a cat next to you that had the same cammo pattern as Jäger does.” Irish remarks, punching Edwards back with a grin. Edwards tells him the story told by Fritz about the cat, how it even reminded him of her; the colors matched perfectly.
Jäger and Fritz roll over, still cuddling, holding ‘hands’ and encircling each other’s upper structure with the leftover manipulators in a many-armed hug. Fritz introduces Jäger to the group, the crew didn’t feel awkward anymore, the whole living machine thing kind of grew onto them. They felt no different from talking to a human than they did a vehicle. Jäger had many shot marks on her upper glacis and superstructure, and at least triple the kill stripes as Marion, her gun was a massive 128mm Pak gun, and dwarfed Marion’s and Fritz’s in size, Fritz still had length however. Jäger’s eyes were green like Franz’s eyes, and hers were positioned on her face plate like Chuck, not on the sides like Marion and Fritz. The people went off for some chow and Fritz went off for fuel, Marion was good on fuel, she kept her extra tanks on, and her primaries was nearly topped off because of them.
“So how long have you two been together?” Marion asks Jäger.
“Ohhh, a long time, I can’t remember it just seems like it never wasn’t,” Jäger replies with a long smile on her face, “He told me about you and Hansel.” Marion nodded, they told him on the trip, and she couldn’t get a certain question out of her head.
“I have a question, Jäger, it’s about our ability to reproduce.”
“Ah, I had the same question too, when I was in Russia a designer visited to oversee performance, I asked him about it. I’m sure I can answer your question.”
“How does it work?”
“Well he didn’t get into scientific terms, he said that the male gender carries the male key, and the female gender carries the female lock; just like we already know of humans. The difference is that unless impregnation is successful will the cervix remain open and that contrary to humans, we can mate all through our pregnancy. That’s how Tiger IIs were made, the Panther didn’t tell the Tiger she was pregnant until she was about halfway in to it, then for fear of killing the fetus, he ceased all sexual activity with her. That’s how the sloped armor and the less complicated suspension and gun length arose, from the Panther’s qualities, while the Tiger contributed the heavy armor, high caliber multi-piece gun and barrel, and sights, if he continued on, the Panther’s genes would be overridden and a Tiger I with slightly sloped armor would have been born. This is for super-fast breeding, where a female can take in multiple male keys to create a new mixture of qualities for a better tank; the male amount overrides the equivalent female amount, if the Tiger stopped after initially impregnating the Panther, it would have produced a Panther with heavier armor. If the cervix is punctured but impregnation or the child is born then the cervix will shut again, unlike humans, this is to protect against forced mating or rape if you will. Do you understand?”
“Yes, yes I do, but, could I bear a child of Hansel’s seamen?” She asks hopeful, almost eager even.
“I do not know of that, sweetie.” They sit in quiet until the group of crew and Fritz returns again.
Fin Chapter 11
Early in the morning, Hansel was awoken by Edwards. He knew the Lt. Colonel and the Colonel would only be at their offices early, and even then the Colonel was a maybe. Hansel gets out of his cot and dresses in his uniform, he loves wearing his uniform, it makes him feel proud and he looks good in it he’s been told. He walks with Edwards, who is giving him the best tips to sway their conclusions favorably, he warns Hansel of their characters; the Colonel is laid back and usually a yes-man while the Lt. Colonel is a hard-ass by-the-book douche. They soon get to the office and the Lt. Colonel is the only one in the room. Shit. They try anyway; Hansel gives his question respectively, and awaits the disapproval.
“Normally I would say no, but today is special.” The Lt. Colonel says, Hansel starts to smile but is cut off before he can thank him. “Hell no. You can’t just get folded into my battalion and expect to take leave on the first day! The balls you-”
“Ah shut up you tight prick!” The Colonel walks in from a side room smoking a pipe, “This Captain here has every damn right to take leave. He’s seen more combat action in a week than you ever have in a year!” That’s not the only action I’ve seen more of. Hansel thinks to himself smirking. “Then he hauls his ass here near his home and wants to see his family, and you say no, well we certainly know who’s the ballsiest, or the stupidest person in the room. Don’t even start with the paperwork bullshit. Captain I order you to take your leave, enjoy yourself.” Then he turned around and walked back into the room, not once did he take his pipe out of his mouth. The LTC frowned in disapproval, gave the two a stern gaze, and said dismissed coldly.
Hansel walked out in strides, relieved of his worry, and strode to Marion with the news. Marion gets giddy and they kiss for a little, then Hansel goes to a telephone station to call his parents. His parents are thrilled to hear he’s a half-kilometer from their apartment, he asks them to come out to the fields in-between Munich and the camp in three hours; they agree instantly. Hansel recaps with Marion about the plans, heads off to the showers, and gets some grub. He finishes up and goes to clean up Marion, he persuades her to let him polish the shot marks the 75mm AP rounds left, they didn’t hurt as much as the HE shot that hit her, and the marks weren’t nearly as big. Then Edwards and Irish stop by in their uniforms.
“Wait, you’re only a 1sg?” Hansel asks Irish, “How are you a tank commander at 1sg?”
“Well, the previous tank stripe was a dumbshit, I was the gunner and next in line. One day his dumbass thinks it’d be smart to stand up in the cupola in a close quarter tank battle. I think you know what happens next. Anyway the only thing we recovered was from belly button down when it fell to the floor spurting blood and internal shit all everywhere. Jäger didn’t enjoy that feeling inside her hull, and it was a pain in the ass to clean. I was never properly promoted and it was only a field promotion; we still don’t have a gunner so Jäger takes all the shots.”
Hansel and Marion shuddered; they definitely didn’t want to experience that first hand. Hansel finishes washing Marion in the nick of time; and the two depart for the fields. They arrive late by two minutes and no one’s around; Hansel waits knowing his parents are always late. At exactly ten after an old little brown car rolls up and two figures step out. Marion instantly recognizes them as Hansel’s parents; the resemblance was unmistaken. His mother was very fit: slim and curvy; you couldn’t tell she bore two children, with a face of a 25 year old and a gorgeous head of brunette hair that was styled into a bell curve. His father had a handsome and withered face with a bright joyful smile and large comfortable eyes magnified by his glasses, he was very tall and a little hefty, not fat or overweight, but he had some heft to him; he was bald like Meats and he walked assisted by a cane due to his profound limp probably from the ‘First Great War’.
“Oh look at our little Hansel!” His mother exclaims, her voice revealing she was older than she looked, “Oh you look so handsome and grown up in your uniform.” She envelops him in a long hug; she holds back the urge to cry in joy.
“You look like a man, son,” His father announces as he hobbles over to give his son a hug. “Sorry Gretel couldn’t make it; she had too much work to do.” Father and son lock eyes in a warm friendly stare. “I’m proud of you, Hansel, and I hope you go on to do even more; you’ve already surpassed me.” Hansel nods and says thank you, revealing he too is holding back tears.
“So how many have you popped Hansel?” His mom asks in a playful tone. “I bet he’s bagged a hundred, right son?” His father adds in a comic voice.
“Naw I’ve only got 14 tank kills.” Hansel answers, as they talk Marion happily watches unveiled, she doesn’t veil herself anymore, she has confidence in herself. Hansel’s dad brings up Hansel’s tank and how massive it is. Then Hansel starts to talk about it, building up for his introduction.
“So who is this person you wanted us to meet, Hansel?” His mother brought up, Hansel took a deep breath, and answered.
“I wanted you to meet Marion, my tank and girlfriend.” Hansel says as he rubs his hand across Marion’s side, Marion then says hello confidently, and introduces herself. The parents’ reaction wasn’t the same as the crews’, Mr. Walter was actually intrigued about it, and Mrs. Walter was unmoved, she still had her warming pleasant completion.
“I always knew you loved machines Hansel, and this just warms my heart to know you found love in your interests.” His mother sent Hansel into shock; he didn’t expect this from his mother.
“Damn I wish my car would talk, that’d make fixing it a hell of a lot easier. Damn thing.” His father’s was expected; Hansel shared the same comical style.
“So you aren’t disappointed or shocked about this?” Hansel asks confused.
“No dear, I am shocked about the living machine, but disappointed; no, you find love in all sorts of places and who are we to tell you right and wrong in love? You need to make your own discoveries in love.” His mother said, his father adds “Your life is yours to explore, and Gretel would probably be all for it. She is a lot like you only more inquiring of life.”
The group talked and conversed about their adventures and battles and history, Hansel and Marion left out sex of course, but on the topic of Gretel and her husband wanting children did make Marion bring up that children weren’t an impossibility. The conversation then turned into Hansel and Gretel’s first moments and baby years, parental stuff that embarrasses the child on a date. Normal family stuff; Hansel was still surprised that his family was treating Marion like a normal person. All the while Marion was playing with Hansel’s hair; prompting Hansel to ask why she always played with his hair, and then realized Marion had none to explore herself, and let it happen; accepting the pleasant feelings she produced from playing with his hair.
Once it was late and the two pairs needed to go their separate ways, they said their goodbyes and farewells as a normal family, and proceeded home. While they were underway, Hansel asked Marion about the children being a possibility;
“Yes we can have children. I know two tanks can and two humans; I’m just not entirely sure about a tank and a human.” Marion replies, and then sighs in disappointment.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Hansel asks concerned.
“I wish you could meet my parents, well my parents design wise. I haven’t even met them myself.” She was getting down, Hansel pet the top of her turret, and asked to watch the sunset. Watching the sunset brought up Marion a little, and induced her to ask Hansel of something they haven’t done since they left the fuel depot. Hansel agrees under one condition: don’t set up for pregnancy, Marion agrees and follows her word.
The deed is done and they roll home. Where they barely spot Jäger and Fritz bonding like they just did not too earlier in the trees, they simply smile in adornment and proceed quietly to their tank house and fall fast asleep. Hansel dreams of his usual dream, and Marion of how their offspring would look.
Fin Chapter 12
Marion and Hansel were off on leave, Edwards and Irish were off messing around with the crews of Jäger and Alter Fritz; and the two lovers were flirting with each other to pass time. They haven’t been together for weeks, and really only met each other within the first week of deployment in Russia, their love was quick and eventful however; almost a work of fiction how fast they connected.
“I missed you Fritz,” Jäger commented after a long kiss, she then switched to her seductive voice: “and I haven’t been able to please myself the way you pleased me that one time…”
“Well now that we’re together I could fix your want…” Jäger snatched him, she’s wanted him since he left, and the same can be said for Fritz, the two were extremely horny and desired sex unbearably. “But where would we have our fun?”
“Well, there is one spot that isn’t too far from the base, only about a five minute roll from the houses.” She had a great seductive voice, sometimes Irish wonders if they really only banged once before questioning if they banged almost every day of their relationship. Fritz and she agreed they would go out at sundown. Until then, they convinced their crews to let them go for the night for a ‘reunion’ and were reluctantly approved, and by reluctantly: Jäger held Irish at gunpoint to get him to agree, after all she was considered ‘nude’ without her skirts and anti-anti-tank rocket shields in their places.
Sundown; Fritz starts to get aroused, Jäger is leading him to their spot and the whole time she lets her chassis rock side to side lulling Fritz’s eyes to stare at her ass, her large gorgeous and tasty ass. He felt an erection coming on, it wasn’t banging hard but firm, it was pressing against the inside pocket of his lower hull. Male and female anatomy for tanks is pretty much the same; the genitals are in the same area to prevent them from sustaining battle damage from an anti-tank round. Once they arrive at the thickly forested circle Jäger did a one-eighty and met Fritz in a sexual kiss, Fritz’s cock went mad, he felt it pushing and throbbing in his hull, but he couldn’t let it open up now; it would rocket into the ground and that would ruin the night.
“I can’t hold it back much longer, baby, let’s get started, shall we?” Fritz implied, Jäger smiled a sexy grin and spun back around and raised her rear suspension to elevate her hind end then proceeded to shake it in Fritz’s face. Fritz simply lowers then pops his forward suspension to get a jump up to Jäger’s engine roof; he then adjusts himself and releases the beast in his hull. Male tank scrotums are like manipulator arms in that they can extend and bend to a certain degree at the base for ‘maximum effectiveness for delivering the male key’ when it was really to be able to fuck the shit out of their mate. His package shot out and nearly impaled Jäger’s ass if he wasn’t in a gently sloped position, he then spurs his engine to slowly push him to his spot to fuck Jäger.
“Oh god damn you take a long time! JUST FUCK ME ALREADY!” Jäger was going mad; her hormones were demanding sex now, good long and hard sex.
“Your wish,” Fritz extends his member to her thickened vagina lips and starts stroking them. “Is my command,” He says in his sexual cold monotone voice.
Jäger shudders and groans, each stroke releases her warm juices onto his cock giving Fritz a wave of pleasurable sensations. Fritz continues to rub her pussy, releasing small amounts of his juices exiting his end and being rubbed into her slit. After a good bit of this Jäger grows annoyed by this teasing and slides onto Fritz’s cock, moaning and groaning with hints of pain as Fritz’s member was quite larger than one may think.
“You’re so tight, warm and wet Jäger, when did you pleasure yourself last?” Fritz asks rhetorically, holding back his urge to moan due to the immense pressure on his cock.
Jäger gasps in between moans “The night before you got back, you?” she can feel him throbbing gently inside her, the precum in his dick being forced out by the cum building inside him. She then goes back to her moaning and murmurs.
“Not since you and I last fucked, no time alone to do so.” He answered as he pulled out a little to thrust. Jäger feels this and prepares for his charge, he pulls his hull up towards Jäger’s roof and thrusts his probe deep inside Jäger; who yelps in both pain and pleasure followed by a cry for more. Fritz then ‘humps’ Jäger again, then slightly faster again, and faster, and faster, each blow more pleasurable than the last, until there was no pause between a thrust and a pull and another thrust. Jäger was breathing in bursts now, her vagina felt like it would explode, and her forward suspension let go of strength to put it all in her hind suspension, her chest was being pounded into the ground. Jäger was slick like ice, and felt like a sauna, her vagina was compressing on Fritz’s cock with an unrivaled power and effectiveness; Fritz was growing close, he could feel it a lot stronger now.
“GERRUNG I-MM-CL-OSSE –YAE-GER!” Fritz grunted out, focusing on pounding Jäger’s pussy hard. “AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH” Is all the response he got. He suddenly felt a great increase on the constraint of his dick; Jäger is either close as well or griping him harder consciously. He clenched up tight, holding back his ejaculation as he quickly tried to pull out but Jäger’s manipulators wrapped around him and pushed him back in. “BU-AHHHHH!” Was his response, the immense wave of cum initially stayed put inside Jäger but the sheer amount forced a great deal out between Jäger’s clit and the bottom of Fritz’s throbbing probe. Fritz went brain dead with his orgasm hitting him hard, his suspension went out and he simply rested on Jäger.
“Uh, uh, uh, now, it’s, my, turn-” Jäger then pushed herself up, and lowered herself down, riding Fritz’s cock like a pogo, she moved slowly, and savored the feelings. She moved her hull around to position his member to rub the right-there! “Ahhh-ha-ha that’s the spot!” Jäger announced once she contortioned her body to rub their G-spots together, Fritz didn’t verbally protest but he felt the pain of the tight slow grind and would whimper a little on every push. She rubbed them until they were ‘raw’; forcing two more orgasms out of Fritz, then Jäger grew close to hers…
“OooOOoo! Ah Fritz, make me cum!” She stopped her grinding and let Fritz take over. A malevolent looking smile overtook his face, and he having regained his strength, he FUCKED her. Her mouth watered and she drooled, her eyes rolled back into her ‘head’, and she death griped Fritz’s devastating member then went completely limp and null in her vagina during her explosive orgasm. Fritz didn’t stop there, he continuously pounded her until she could feel her pussy again, and it felt like jello, then he released his final deposit of seeds into her closed vagina. The cervix was beaten but not broken, and Fritz slowly slid off and landed with a thud, the two of them sat on their hull bellies, too exhausted to get up, then sat together in an embrace and a string of kisses.
“I love you Fritz,” Jäger says affectionately, leaning against Fritz.
“I love you too, Jäger,” He replies lovingly, then a face of concern dawns him, “Jäger where is Mini Rommel?”
“Oh he’s still with us; he’s just in the city helping with the recruitment. He’ll be back tomorrow. Why?”
“He usually has a pick-up line we’d joke about right about now…”
Jäger simply puts a finger over his mouth, and leans for another kiss, and is met halfway by Fritz, they relax and watch the stars go by.
“Tomorrow night, I’m thinking oral…”
“Hah, that’s something I’d want to see us try!”
“Yes but I’ve been wanting to taste you for a long time now, and I think I have an idea on how.”
“Maybe, but we’ll have to see, darling, we’ll have to see.”
“Another thing, love?”
“I’ve been thinking about children…” Fritz is offset by this and sighs deeply, he too has been thinking.
“After this war ends, after, if it ends.”
Fin Chapter 13
The group was hanging around eating morning chow and talking to the American tank and crew on the radio. The Americans have been trying to teach English to the Germans and the Germans teaching German to who didn’t know already on the American crew, with a good deal of success. Neither Hansel nor Marion talked about last evening; keeping Jäger’s and Fritz’s little adventure secret. After breakfast finished, and everyone except Hansel and Marion dispersed, Marion brought up that she needed to pee.
“You have to what?” Hansel said aghast.
“I need to pee, Hansel.”
“What is supposed to come out exactly?”
“Uh, I need and oil change. Is that better Hansel?” She said sarcastically.
“Yes, I’ll get the tools-” Hansel was cut off by Marion.
“No I can just piss it out while you get the new oil.” She was growing more annoyed.
“Alright then, fine! Why are you getting so pissy?” He asked while handing her a container to release the ‘piss’ into, also a little annoyed.
“I haven’t taken a piss in over two months.” She snapped.
“So what? My car needed an oil change once every six mon-”
“I NEED TO FUCKING PISS DAMNIT!”
With that he shut up and put his hands up as if to say ‘fine-you-win-you-don’t-need-to-be-a-bitch’ and went to get more oil for her. Along the way he passed a Panther tank that definitely belonged to the unit. It was a Panther D model, but along with the standard side skirts it too had extra skirts like Fritz around the sides, rear, and around the turret in a similar manner of the Panzer IVs. Ah the good old Panther D’s! He loved Panthers, on the Russian front when the Tiger I first appeared it was unstoppable, then the T-34-85 came along sporting an 85mm long barrel that could pierce a Tiger’s front like butter, the Panthers however came late just enough and their fronts could deflect anything the Russians shot then. Matched with speed, maneuverability and firepower, the Panther is the best medium tank that ever entered the war; Hansel thought to himself. He noticed some painting on the side of the turret: Mini-Rommel.
Mini Rommel was rolling along, trying to find either Jäger or Alter Fritz, he’d just been relieved from his piss-poor duty as a playground for Hitler Youth children and wanted to talk to a familiar face. While strolling down the tank houses he passes an unrecognized face, he was pretty tall, blonde hair, rank Captain, and had an eye for him, he wasn’t offset by the eyeing, he’d get it a lot; he was one of the best damn tanks the German war machine has produced and he’s damn proud of it. He concluded another heavy tank was added because of the rank and the man being unknown to him, he rarely forgot a face. Not too long after that he comes across a living battle veteran Tiger II awaiting oil in its house. Eager to make a new friend, he rushes over to introduce himself.
“Hello there, my name’s Mini Rommel, but most either call me Mini or Rommel. What’s your name?” He asks optimistically.
“My name’s Marion, nice to meet you Rommel.” She responded cheerfully. Shit. Rommel’s outward completion doesn’t change but on the inside he sags and feels down, he hates having to do this, he feels wrong and stupid. He kicks himself mentally and thinks of a really bad pick-up line. God how I hate this!
He starts flirting with Marion very badly. Marion just lets it happen, wanting to see where this’ll end up for the hell of it. She listens and jokes with him, but in his voice she can pick up a hint of sorrow and regret, she can’t quite pin it but she’d say he’s holding back, and/or doesn’t want to do this. Strange. After three minutes he stops flirting and just talks. Then Hansel gets back with the necessary amount of oil and greets them.
“Hello again Mini Rommel, I see you’ve met Marion.”
“Yes I have, most people either call me Mini or Rommel. You must be Hansel?” Marion noticed his voice, he sounded uplifted, relieved.
“My name is Hansel; do you have a crew, Mini?” Hansel asked.
“No I don’t have a crew; I am one of the experimental tests of performance. I am completely self-sufficient: I load my ammo racks, load my gun, re-fuel myself, really the only things I can’t do effectively are man the hull machine gun, fix myself, close-quarter infantry repelling, to sum it up anything that isn’t part of my body at close quarters.” Hansel was impressed; all his previous assumptions were indeed plausible: Marion could fight for herself if need be.
“So, you must get lonely, I mean you don’t have a crew to company you.” Hansel asked blandly, Mini sighed.
“Yes, I do get lonesome. That’s why I spend the majority of my time with Fritz and Jäger, speaking of which have you seen them around?” He replied in a depressing tone.
“No we haven’t Rommel, not today at least.” Marion said ushered, possibly bored and depressed about his state.
“Alright, I’ll keep looking; it was nice meeting you two. Farewell.” He continued onward in search for his friends.
“Damn that sucks,” Hansel stated, “He doesn’t have a crew. I couldn’t operate alone.”
“He flirted with me horrendously.” Marion started.
“He What?!” Hansel said, jealousy setting in, as well as fling feelings. He starts to rant on but Marion over takes him.
“I don’t mind, actually, I’d say he was either holding back, or he hated flirting with me. You should have heard some of his lines, they first off sucked and secondly his presentation was downright awful; it was somewhat amusing.” Marion talked over him; Hansel was listening, and quite mad that she didn’t care. “I feel pitiful of him almost, not emotionally bonding, but empathy maybe.”
Marion eventually forced Hansel to agree to let this slide, she did say that she at first only wanted to see him try and fail, and maybe to see if there is something up with him. There was something strange about him, every other day he’d leave the base suddenly at the same time, and return with quarter the amount of fuel he started with before he left. He is a good spirit, and his name originated from Rommel being called The Desert Fox and how Mini and Rommel are both sly and cunning. He’s quite playful; he screws around with Irish, Edwards, Whacker and Banker a lot, and sucks worse than Whacker and Banker combined at flirting. Hansel experienced this first hand while working on Marion’s radiator… again… he was appalled, enraged, and was only held back from laughing by Marion’s hand cupping over his mouth. Hansel agreed that Mini didn’t like flirting, that he was hiding something. Soon the winter months would arrive.
“Hey, Inbred.” Marion called one morning. “You’re a puzzle solver right?”
“Yes I am, why Marion?” He answered.
“I need a favor from you, you know haw Rommel acts strange, I have a hunch why.”
“I have two ideas, he’s either a spy somehow, or he’s got a secret lover.”
Inbred was in to it, he loved riddles, Marion gave him all she knew and more reasons why. She felt more on a spy, but Inbred would probably know best. “I got nothing.” He states; confusing the shit out of Marion.
“What do you mean?!”
“This is Hansel and your riddle, not mine. I’ll give you my idea after, but for now this is yours and yours alone.”
Fin Chapter 14
The group was hanging around the afternoon mess tent on a rainy Sunday when a platoon of Panzer IV’s moved to support the battalion finally arrives after the rain stops. The group pays no mind as they pass, Mini was joking with Whacker, Banker, Edwards and Irish, Marion, Fritz, Jäger, Inbred and Hansel were talking not too far from the others. While Banker and Whacker were arguing over who’s role was more important or more difficult, nobody really knew what it was exactly just that may have been the topic, the Pz. IV crews disembarked very loudly. They must have been raw recruits none probably older than 20. That is when Hansel heard the splashes of someone running very fast towards him from behind; he had no time to react, before he could turn around he was almost tackled off his feet and enveloped in a bear hug. A sobbing and choking voice piped up.
“I thought you were dead!” Hansel instantly recognized the voice. “Y-Y-Your battalion was listed as…” His voice cracked: “Destroyed!” He then broke into more sobs and gasps for breath.
“Who the hell is this?” Jäger said in an authoritative tone.
“This, this is Anton. Anton Walter. He’s my cousin.” Hansel said, holding back tears of his own.
“So why is this such an emotional incident for the two of you?” Marion said, she understood family but Hansel wasn’t an emotional crying person.
“I pretty much raised him.” Hansel said, twisting around to hug his distraught and amazed cousin.
“I’ll explain later, Marion.”
The two let each other go after a long time, Anton was considerably shorter than Hansel, he had to be only 5’5” and 125 pounds. He looked like Hansel only he had a more innocent and young look to his eyes, that was also different; Hansel had brown eyes while Anton had green. Anton kept a high-and-tight haircut and his uniform was spotless; he had a Hitler Youth Iron Cross badge on his chest and the Hitler Youth dagger at his side. Hansel noticed this; he was uplifted to see Anton was taken care of after he left, even the old scars looked like they cleared up! A Pz. IV H model outfitted with armored skirts rolls over and greets the group.
“So this is the Hansel Anton would keep referring to.” The Pz. IV was definitely female, her voice gave it away, it was soft and comforting like Marion’s, but more mature like Fritz’s.
Anton spins around in a flash and answers; “Yes Faust! This is Hansel!” He says very fast bouncing up and down, he then darts towards Faust, jumps onto her sloping front, hops onto the hull roof, then belly flops onto her turret roof and spins around to face the others. Faust simply chuckles softly. The others are somewhat confused as how to act, the scene just went from an emotional reunion to a playful recess from work.
“So Antie, how about you tell Hansel and the others your position in the crew.” Faust spoke aloud to Anton, looking up to him while he looked around curiously.
“Oh! I’m Faust’s loader and her mechanic and her camouflage painter!” He said enthusiastically, getting a not bad face and a slow nod from Hansel, Marion shot a sounds familiar face to Hansel, who was different only by being a tank commander.
Anton’s head jerks up and left, he lunges off Faust exclaiming “TREE” and runs off toward a low hanging oak with Irish in the limbs and Edwards at the base. “Here we go again,” Faust sighs as she sluggishly rolls to the tree. Anton gets to the tree and without stopping jumps into a branch and hauls himself up a good bit by the time Faust gets to him.
“Get down from there damnit!” Edwards says aggravated, “You got one too?” Faust asks also aggravated.
“No I have TWO IDIOTS to deal with!” He replies rhetorically yelling into the tree.
“Yeah well you can just shut up! At least I can climb a damn tree!” Irish yells down, crawling towards the other idiot, Franz, who is spooked on the edge of the branch. Anton scrambles up past and stops about three-fourths up and pauses to look down, when Faust calls him down he simply says no. The two keep going back and forth; down-no-down-no-down-no.
“Anton, get down here! Else I’ll shoot you down!” She threatens, “Let’s not and say we did!” Irish shoots back. Franz jumps from branch to branch until he gets to the ground where he bolts for Alter Fritz and Jäger, then to Faust. Anton mopes as he climbs down.
“Alright you little shit now it’s your turn to get down!” Edwards yells at Irish, who is starting slowly down. About halfway he steps on a branch and it gives way, letting him fall through the tree screaming SHIT the whole way until he hits the ground on his back with a thud and a groan. He stands up and brushes the foliage off of his clothes as Edwards walks over.
“Damnit Irish!” He sounds loudly as he smacks Irish over the head with his hat.
“Gah! WhatIdo!?” Irish asks quickly and in an elevated pitch.
“Well first you scared the damn cat off. Then you fell halfway out a tree you scrump!”
Faust goes on rambling about how Anton’s ruining his nice uniform and how one day he’s going to go off and get himself hurt while she pulls him to sit on her sloping front and holds him there with her arm as a lap-belt picking the bits of tree out of his uniform and hair while also wiping off his face. Meanwhile Hansel starts to explain his history with Anton to Marion, Inbred, Jäger, and Fritz.
“It starts when I was eight years old; he was only four and didn’t have the best start in life. His father left him and his mother when he was born, and his mother was only around for maybe three years; and during those three years all she did with him was go to work and feed him, otherwise she left him with my grandmother to take care of him but when Anton was three and a half she demanded that Anton’s mother be around more. She would go out to the bars or the corners and bring home men of all sorts and they’d only last about two-three days before they’d disappear, Anton’s home was across the street from mine and I’d go over to his apartment after school and teach him some basic skills like counting, spelling, writing, speaking, manners, and about some history. I would take care of him by bringing foods, water, clothes, grooming utensils, soaps, that kind of stuff. When he was six his mother would start beating him in drunken spurs, I found out and I’d either be there to defend him, or I’d usually opt for taking him over to my house and letting him sleep in my room, safe from his mother. He started grade school and I would walk him from my house to the school every day, I gave him some lunch, a bag, and some change for the day, but being small he was pushed around by the other boys and beat up a few times, and he’d lose all I’d given him that day.
The worst beating was when he was nine, the bigger kids at school had pinned him to the wall and punched his gut, kicked his legs, elbowed his chest, and crushed his arms before lunch, he said he threw up a bit, and left school and barely got home, that’s where his mother was, a drunk mess and pissed that he was at home, she beat him even more, around the head, back, and waist region. He was bleeding a good bit when he got out as best he could and made a dash to my apartment building, he fell in the road and crawled to the door when he passed out from blood loss, my mother found him in the lobby and took him upstairs to our home and called me out of school. I knew something was bad when I was told it was urgent and found the blood trail still in the road. Anton was lucky to be alive; when he was conscious I told him he wasn’t a part of that household anymore that I will take care of him fully from now on, mother and father supported me and helped me when I needed it. Something that week made me very enraged and I demanded to know who the kids who did this to him were and where I could find them over the school break, I found them, all five of them, and I beat each one of their asses shitless without mercy. None of them died but my message was clear, none of them touched Anton again. I saw him through thick and thin, through the best and worst of times, I helped him with schoolwork, with social problems, I fed him, clothed him, cared for him when nobody else did, he was very active, he’d run around constantly, he couldn’t sit still or think about one subject longer than a minute to save his life, he got into trouble a lot, for horseplay, insubordination, that stuff. He never once saw the wilderness, great trees, wild animals, none of that, all he saw was promotion posters, pictures, poverty, and then Hitler Youth groups; he wanted to be a Hitler Youth so bad, he’d beg me and beg me to sign him up, but I didn’t let him. I was afraid of what they’d turn him into, whether it is a failure or a cold blooded, heartless, incompetent Nazi, but I had hoped it may shape him up better than I could, and from what I can see, it did the latter. He must have joined after I left for basic’s school, he cried when I left, begged me not to go, he told me right as I left: I wanted to be like you; now how am I going to do that Hansel!? Please don’t leave me!” Hansel got more and more emotional as his story progressed. He didn’t start crying or choking, but this is the most emotional he’s ever been around anyone other than Marion, Inbred was completely breath taken by this. The moment of awe was short lived, as Anton was running after Franz he had recently met with Faust, who was chasing after him pleading at this point to stop, followed by Irish and Edwards chasing after Franz but still behind Faust. Franz ran underneath Fritz, and only downed for a moment, Anton switched to a game of chase, chanting “You can’t catch me! You can’t catch me!”
“Oh I’ll catch you Antie! Mark my words: I’ll catch you!” Faust taunted Anton, playfully chasing after him, Irish and Edwards had no idea that Franz was under Fritz and continued to chase Faust believing she was chasing Anton who is chasing Franz. Jäger, Fritz, and Inbred realized this and couldn’t help but laugh the ass of their chassis off, except Inbred, he just laughed his normal and scrawny ass off.
“So, you pretty much raised him his whole life?” Marion asks a bit concerned as she watches the comic scene go on.
“Yes I guess one could say so. Why?”
“I’m starting to reconsider having kids.”
“Well, I tried my best I’d say.” Hansel said hopefully. “That doesn’t help.” Marion replies.
Hansel smiles awkwardly and slowly nods. He stays quiet for a while then is hit with what Marion has just proposed. He’s quite offset and his facial expression turns toward the horrified side. He looks over to Marion and meets her ever-comforting gaze and asks a bit questioningly: “Kids?” Marion’s face scrunches up and she snaps out “No not now! Of course not now. Later on in time. Maybe after the war.” Hansel takes a deep refreshing breath and releases in a sigh of confidence and relief. Marion smiles and instantly starts teasing with him again.
“I’m still rethinking that decision based on the turn out of your first child…” She says, gesturing to Anton running circles around Faust as she playfully laughs and tries to chase him with her turret spinning as fast as it could. Irish and Edwards found out that Franz was somewhere else and had given up in the chase and were exhausted and lying down in the mud near Faust, Irish not giving a fuck about the muddy mattress while Edwards was half-assed kicking at him to get up.
“Ehhh- I tried my best at the time, I’ll do better with ours, okay Marion?” Hansel asks as he leans against Marion, who wraps her manipulator arms around him in a warm and gentle python hug while they hold hands. “HmmHmmHmm, we’ll see Hansel.”
Fin Chapter 15
Once everybody calmed down and regained strength lost in their fun, they all huddled around in a large circle, sitting on their assigned tanks, Whacker and Banker had stopped arguing, Franz slept underneath Fritz’s gun mantle, Edwards was sitting on the commander’s cupola hatch, Jäger sat left of Fritz with Irish passed out sprawled out, a muddy mess, on her roof, to Jäger’s left sat Marion with Hansel sitting on her turret in line with her gun while banker leaned against her cheek sitting on the hull and Whacker siting in his position with the hatch un buttoned, Inbred was sitting in the loader’s hatch, while Meats was cooking up a supper, he was fed up with what they served here. Left of them was Faust and Anton lying on his belly on Faust’s turret roof with his head propped up with his elbows and hands. To the left of Faust and right of Fritz sat an empty space.
“Wasn’t there a modified Panther with you guys earlier?” Faust asked intrigued.
“Yes there was. Where is Rommel?” Hansel replied, also concerned.
“Damnit you two! I told you guys to keep an eye on him!” Marion said angered as she smacks Whacker and Banker up-side the heads with her manipulators.
“We were!” Whacker says sporadically, defending himself, “He kept mumbling I’m going to be late, and she’s definitely not going to this time, then we started arguing- (Banker pipes up about the argument again) –shut up Banker- and that’s when we looked over and he was gone, not a sound as I can remember!” Marion continues to look sternly at the two who appeared like scolded children.
“He went that way then turned right.” Anton states, pointing just left of the oak tree he climbed, then drags his hand right slowly, “And he went off into the woods a bit, then Faust yelled me down.” Marion curses under her breath.
“I don’t see why it bothers you so much,” Inbred said to her, “He can’t be a spy, think about it: we aren’t informed of any key details, we’re still here and alive, he is still alive and he would make a terrible spy. He has shitty cover ups and presentation, along with the fact he would be a Russian spy on the Western front? Not logical at all.” He made a point; Marion knew he’d always make a point, and smiles.
“Now all that’s left is one option.” Her smile grew maliciously. “Hey Hansel, let’s start us a good fire, now seems like a good idea!” Hansel is quite stunned by this, he’s never thought she could be this hell bent on something. His expression says worried, she did go from being extremely shy to exposing others of their secrets. In less than a month.
“So you want me to go get fire wood out where Rommel disappeared?” Hansel asks as he slides her side and pops off the skirt. Marion just smiles and looks him in the eye with an: I’ll pay you back glare, Hansel doesn’t care about the I’ll pay you back but trudges off anyway.
After about eight minutes alone, Hansel starts to talk to himself like he thought he did before Marion, he rambles on in English, trying to practice it, he wanders through the woods for a while, deeper and deeper, talking more and more. He stumbles upon a toppled tree, baked in the sun by a clearing, dried out from the rain about two-three hours ago; he visually marks it and out of the blue, spots and indicator of the topper. German tank treads. He tracks them for maybe a half mile then hears Mini-Rommel, speaking English! Holy Shit where did he learn that? Hansel asks to himself, still talking aloud. He comes across Mini’s flank view, he covers in the bushes and observes. Mini continues to speak broken English, to someone else, he can’t see them, Minis in the way. Then Mini stops talking, he was flirting, very, very, well, making his previous shows look completely faked and purposely shit. Then another voice starts about wanting to stop hiding and come out to Mini’s friends, it was feminine, a different broken English tone, there was something familiar in that voice, a certain dialect he remembers from the-
“Russians!” Hansel blurts out unconsciously, still in his think aloud mode, Mini instantly jumps back, scared shitless, revealing Hansel’s only nightmarish fear: a T-34-85, also scared shitless, looking right at Hansel. Hansel freaks shit, he shoots up unable to conjure a scream, hitting his head on a tree branch and is launched out into the open by his mass changing direction. Mini-Rommel moves in between Hansel and the T-34 crying please don’t hurt her! Please don’t! Hansel finally screams in terror as he kicks and thrashes toward the bush he fell from, he slowly starts to breathe, extremely fast but he’s not screaming, and realizes he’s still alive and partially recomposes himself to point a shaking hand and finger at Mini.
“WHO IS SHE?!” Hansel demands, completely terrified, he notices his hands are white, and expect his face to be white as well, it was.
“Her name… is Kramia, and she WON’T HURT YOU!” Rommel screams to be heard over Hansel’s burst of panicked screams. “You actually decided and argument we’ve been having.” He turns to Kramia and speaks to her in Russian, quite fluent Russian, better than his English.
“I’ll speak in German then, better than my English.” She says in perfect German, she calms Hansel down with Mini’s help to where Hansel could talk in his usual tone.
“So why do you speak English? How?” Hansel asks, and is told it was supposed to be their ‘secret language’ but that proved flawed, and by radio channels do they learn. Hansel learns that Mini can speak Russian fluently and Kramia can speak German fluently, obviously. After some questions and answers, once the sun downed Mini-Rommel swallowed his pride and agreed to take them to the camp after Hansel gathered the pre-found fire wood.
“You have no idea how badly Marion wanted to know this,” Hansel said, still squirming in front of Rommel’s gun mantle, “I think I could have gone without.”
“Yes, now you know. I’m deeply sorry for the things I’ve said to her.” Rommel says, flipping the coin on Hansel.
“It’s alright, I understand why- wait, you knew about me and Marion?” He asks a little frightened.
“Yes I knew for almost the whole time. Except the first day, I didn’t know then.”
“Now you don’t have to do that anymore, Mir.” Kramia said, Hansel asked what she said and she clarified that she calls him Mir instead of Mini, or Rommel, or Mini-Rommel. Once they arrive at the huddled group Marion chant she knew it repeatedly. They build the fire and the two lovers explain themselves as to why they were hiding this, and then how Hansel reacted.
“Hansel, why did you scream when you saw me?” Kramia asked him. Hansel sighed, and prepared his answer.
“Back when I was in Russia as a Tiger I gunner, I used to not fear you, or anything you had, it would bounce off the Tiger’s armor. Then, that changed, obvious enough, in the closing days of Operation Citadel. We were in the south group, the reserves that were to advance past the main force once the defensives were gone, and we were met by a whole division of T-34s and I didn’t know but also T-34-85s. We were warned of you 85s, that they can puncture our Tiger’s frontal armor, but no one in our regiment had seen one and lived to describe it, anyway, we came down a hill crest, and tried to plow right through.” Hansel starts growing darker in tone, and holds back his full emotions, “I’ll never forget that sight, I can still see that tank jump as it fired, then it went blank. I hit my head on the sights and slipped out of mind, I thought I was dead, but I awoke to see Karl the loader painted against the inside, and Brüno our commander dead and missing a leg, Erwin the driver wasn’t responding, and Whacker was passed out snoring at the radio, my legs where torn up and Whacker’s left arm was too, the shot went straight through the mantle on the loader’s side, and exploded. That 88 gun receiver is the only reason I’m alive. The next thing I know is I feel like we’re moving, but Erwin wouldn’t respond, then I wake up and I’m being hauled up through the cupola hatch by German medics. I just wish to see Erwin again, to thank him for saving my life, for saving Adam’s life.” Hansel gestures toward Whacker, who’s asleep at the radio, “For saving our lives.” Hansel can’t hold back any longer, the day was too emotional that he started to cry. Marion hugged him tight.
“What was the Tiger’s number?” Rommel asks as if he had just had a realization.
“3-3-1, why?” Rommel smiles open mouth still, showing his sharp panther mimicking teeth arrangement.
“Because I was there, you were a special Tiger to roll in; the fact that only two of the five man crew was warm to the touch still was interesting…” Hansel stopped crying and looked Rommel in the eyes begging him to elaborate what it meant. “Yes, sadly Erwin the driver was long dead.”
Hansel started trembling, all along his first deployment protector and destroyer was alive. Hansel sat in sheer amazement; he was on that thing for a year-and-a-half and not once did he ever think it be living, same for Marion but she came out after a month of Hansel talking to her unknowingly, he wondered, was it a male or female, what was its personality traits, why this, why that, but one thought kept popping up: why did it save us? Marion’s told him how hard it is to run solo when she first tried, and that moving through mud was almost impossible without Banker or a driver working the engine and controls, so why did it put forth so much effort? Then a familiar voice pipes up.
“What do we have here?” Edwards, awakened Irish, Inbred, and Anton snap to the position of attention. The Lt. Colonel was here. Hope fled from Rommel’s eyes, Kramia knew the stories of him, and sunk as well.
“Five German tanks and a group of crewmen. And. One. Russian. Tank.” They all sunk, they knew he’d have her out within the week, no the next 24 hours, Munich had factories. Rommel started to weep.
“Now, you all know me, I’m strict, by the book, up-tight, a cold bastard, right? But take this to mind, all men have breaking points, where they can’t take it at all, the last straw so-to-say, and this straw is more like a broom, and said broom is up my ass.” The group knew what was to be done with a captured weapon: disassembly.
“And that broom can ram all it wants but that won’t stop me from fucking its ass hole!” The group was stunned; did the strictest man on base just say fuck you to the book? “I accept this, and the Colonel has no authority under the field of captured weapons, so my say goes, and you are free to do as the other tanks may do. My only condition is be prepared to get a fresh coat of paint, and say good-bye to those ugly red stars, have a good night everyone” With that he left and went to his quarters.
Rommel and Kramia rejoiced, she began jumping up and down excitedly using her torsion-bar suspension. The others breathe a sigh of relief, and Whacker finally wakes up due to Kramia and flips shit when he sees her, similar to Hansel, and buttons up his hatch and sits inside Marion until they persuade him otherwise. Kramia tries as well, using his name which freaks him out even more, HOW THE FUCK DOES IT KNOW MY NAME! Eventually he calms down and opens up the hatch, and then they go on about how he missed the best thing to happen at the base yet. The two lovers cuddle, and whisper to each other, all anyone else hears is tomorrow night, after the pretty paint is done, then Mini-Rommel perks up and is as energized as Anton, who must have given it all to him because he passes out on Faust’s head those two call it, a.k.a. turret as the other call it.
Fin Chapter 16
Early the next morning, Mini-Rommel was awoken by an excited Kramia, she couldn’t contain herself, overjoyed at the fact she was accepted into Mother Russia’s most bitter rival’s tank division without a hitch! She was bouncing on her suspension and rocking side to side, eager to get fully appointed to Mini’s side of the war, once Mini finally woke up fully, he looked to Kramia and acknowledged her energy level and was answered by their first French kiss. Mini was shocked at first, then let it happen and closed his eyes and returned his half to her, their tongues pushed by each other, lovingly caressing and moving around each other in the other’s mouth. Kramia found his lips to be softer than they appeared and his mouth warm and welcoming, while Mini felt Kramia’s lips as full, tender, and pleasant and her mouth warm and, like her tongue, very caressing and active. They savored one another for what felt to them as forever, they then slipped back and withdrew from the kiss, and just smiled at each other. They sat in quiet embracing each other with their manipulators and up against each other enjoying their company, Mini had to hold back his awoken lust for her excited by the kiss, ti was demanding to be met, but he resisted, it was too early and they were outside awaiting the painters to show up any minute. Then along comes the tank group, the group forms their usual circle, and Hansel, Anton, Inbred and Irish show up with painting utensils and supplies.
“So, you guys are my painters?” Kramia asks them, who nod their heads yes, “Are they good?” She asks the tanks.
“My two painted me,” Marion responds, proud of their work, “Same for me,” Faust says as she opens a can of paint for Anton who insists on himself using the crowbar to open it.
“To the best of his supplies’ abilities.” Says Jäger, as she looks at Irish with a ‘you’ve-got-to-be-fucking-stupid’ face. The paint he opened was completely solid, a whole gallon of paint dry, and he was holding it upside down smacking the bottom of it for a reason unclear to anyone else.
“Damnit Irish! This is why we can’t have nice things!” Edwards says, yanking the paint can form him.
“No this is why we can’t have things.” He replies as he takes it back, then chucking it off to the distance. “Well there’s no yellow.”
“We weren’t going to use yellow; we’re making her look like Rommel.” Hansel answers as he dips his brush in the paint and starts painting the frontal glacis. Anton exclaims he can do this and climbs all around Kramia painting the outline of his color, a darker green, and in two minutes has outlined the green placement for the whole tank. Curious Inbred, who has to paint over the base colors with his small amount of yellow paint for the spots and slashes, asks her of their production methods.
“To simply put it imagine a crushed ant mound” Inbred looks at her with a face of ‘how-dare-you-think-I-want-a-simpleton’s-answer and she begins to elaborate in her hyped up and comic mood. “We Russians like to mass produce everything, and the way I could describe it to you is this: picture a giant catapult sitting in the front of a factory, now that catapult is the supplier of tanks to the front lines, and the factory is just streaming out tanks, and the catapult launches them: T-34, T-34, T-34, BOX of T-34s, T-34, T-34, and so on.” The time of explaining the T-34s being launched she was using one of her manipulator arms as a figure for a catapult arm, jerking it up at every T-34 then resetting it, then describes the KVs as getting stuck at the factory doors because they’re too fat and the tank destroyers begging to be sent to the front but being denied. As she tells of the battle tactics of Russia (just shoot/kill/both them) Marion notices Irish’s can is rusty.
“Hey Irish, your paint can looks rusted through, you might want to secure it better.”
“Naw, it’ll be just fine, see?” He shakes the can up and down strongly, it holds for a while then as he is coming to his final sections the bottom falls along with all the paint, everyone laughs as Irish tries to scrape paint off the inside of the remaining can.
“The retardation, it surrounds you Irish!” Edwards cries as he laughs uncontrollably, “I’m not the brightest tool in the shed, okay?” Irish responds as he starts to join in with the others. Inbred makes a remark correcting the phrase, then he accidentally knees his half-filled can of yellow paint, the bottom flies off sending the paint all over his legs.
“THE RETARDATION IS SPREADING!” At this remark Kramia’s gun drops as low as it can go and she laughs so hard it sounds like muffled gasps for air. They started painting again, with what was left of the paint; the last section to be painted was the rear glacis and engine exhaust covers and pipes. As they started painting, Mini noticed that when the brushes stroked the exhaust covers, Kramia looked like she was excited, sexually excited, they’ve never had sex before, but he knew when she was horny and vice-versa. He took note on that sensitivity, he couldn’t help but grin. Two years they’ve loved each other, and today they finally had their first real kiss, and tonight have their first intercourse, they looked at each other and held each other’s hand. Inbred took the black paint and brush to outline the cross on the sides of the turret, then he plants the brush between the hands of Mini-Rommel and Kramia.
“I feel that you should do the honors.” He says then backs away. The two try to fill in the outline to the best of their abilities but can’t help but chuckle at the pitiful attempt to be perfect. They fuck it up of course but she doesn’t care and insists on letting it be. “It’ll be our little mark.” She declares.
“Now all she needs is some extra skirt armor and the assimilation will be complete.” Irish says in a malicious way, along with a creepy and disturbing smile as he looks toward an abandoned metal-can house. “Damnit Irish, you and your creepy shit!”
A small group of them go to the shack to collect and plan out the placement and arrangement of the skirts, the only ones that don’t go are Marion, Hansel, Mini-Rommel, Faust, Jäger, Fritz, and the Colonel, who has the tendency to appear out of nowhere. He startles those still not accustomed to his random drop, and once the appropriate greetings are over he makes an announcement:
“You may have noticed that we’ve been starting to get a lot of sentiment machines lately, and I would like to explain the significance of it.” He says in his usual typical Colonel voice, pipe in place, “It’s no coincidence we started out with an unusual amount of living tanks, they’ve popped up before, the first one I met was with your father actually, Captain Walter, she was a A7V named Elfriede, shame that the Brits got ahold of her. Anyway, we’ve been designated as the battalion of the living tanks, and pretty soon a flood of new living machines from all fronts should be showing up, a Marder II, a Grillie, two Hummels, some StuG IIIs, a Pz. III, a Tiger, a JägdPanther, more Pz IVs, there’s more I just can’t remember them all right now. Many of them are from special groups so; things might get a little weird.” And with that he left, but then turns around and yells: “Looks like the Tiger’s here now!” Then he continues on.
“That one was special,” Mini says with a large grin after spotting it, Hansel leans around him, “Only two warm bodies.” With that Hansel’s legs felt shredded and an unbearable pain was felt for the second time. 3-3-1 was painted on the turret storage box. He almost fainted, fell, but not quite fainted. Whacker on the other hand, who noticed Kramia’s disappearance and decided to come out of hiding, went wide eyed, dropped his jaw open, and ate shit. Hansel struggles to get up, staggers over to Whacker, fumbles to get a good hold still staring at the red 331 outlined in white, then he proceeds to drag Whacker like a dead body to their life saver from all that time ago. When they get to the huge side of the tank, Whacker looks up and seems to be at the verge of crying, he learned not too long ago that the tank was alive. Hansel is amazed and an unbelieving grin takes the replacement form of the awe-inspired one.
“We know your there,” He began, looking like he’s insane talking to a tank that appeared as a non-living. “We know what you did for us, it’s me, Hansel Walter, and this, this is Adam Kirkman. We’re all grown up now, you don’t have to hide anymore, we can take it,” He began to lose hope, he thought there’s been a long time from then to now, and it was pretty beaten, is this, a rebuild? He started to retreat within himself again, when Whacker burst out in a crying manner “SPEAK DAMN IT! WE’RE TRYING TO THANK YOU YOU COLD BASTARD!”
“Hey, better watch what you’re yelling to,” A female said, the two men perked up, thinking it was the Tiger, but instead it was the driver opening up the hatch, the two retreated back to depression. “Someone of upper stature may think you as crazy.” The two men were about to say something, but the woman started commanding them to get away and threatening them, for neither of them were wearing a uniform to show they outranked her, then a deep male voice sounds. “Stop, they’re with me, we go back.” Whacker starts to cry again, Hansel is awestruck again. The woman seems shocked and asks how, apparently he told them that he never had a crew, they were his first.
“I’m sorry, but I’ve lied to you about my previous deployment. This is Hansel Walter, my former gunner, and Adam Kirkman, my former hull gunner. I never revealed myself, to them, I was ordered to for you to help inspire confidence get you all battle ready, and to be an effective team as soon as possible, these two here are the only survivors of my previous crew. After I was shot in the mantel on the loader’s side, it went off incinerating the loader, ripping off the commander’s leg leading him to bleed to death, shrapnel shredded Hansel’s legs and Adam’s left arm and shoulder, and ripped my driver’s neck in half. While these two were unconscious I pulled myself to the nearest outpost and got them medical treatment. I planned to reveal myself to them, to tell them personally what happened, but I never saw them again.” Adam was crying, and sitting against one of Tiger’s outer road wheels while Hansel stood next to him patting him on the back. “I feel like I’m interrupting now, I apologize most sincerely, I’ll let you three have time alone to catch up.” With that the driver left, they sat in quiet for about five minutes, then Tiger explained what happened after them, basically his new deployment as part of a full female tank crew. All pretty attractive he boasts. “Lucky bastard…” Whacker finally says, Tiger chuckles, “At least you haven’t changed, Adam.”
They talk for hours, Hansel talks about his new role, Marion, Tiger brings up that he is also in a human relationship, but doesn’t say exactly who. Funny, even when we know his greatest kept secret he keeps us in the dark. Whacker thought, then he brings up his thoughts, the new crew he’s with on Marion, then they all talk about past times, the new faces on the base, Hansel explains the T-34-85 that is scaring both Whacker and Tiger to death almost, and eventually calms them down when Kramia and Mini-Rommel engage in a long, long, really long kiss, which makes Hansel think the cause of that kiss may indicate, realizes it and turns bright red in embarrassment, and amusement, while Whacker is still thinking of trusting her or not. Tiger’s face is not like Marion’s obviously, his eyes are more like Jäger’s in that they are mounted forward, not on the angled side like Marion or Fritz, his is on the mantle above the gunner’s sight and equally spaced on the other side of his 88 gun, his mouth is also not under the gun, but under the mantle, so it’s on the underside of the gun mount’s overhang. At about 9:00 P.M., they break away, and go their separate ways; Whacker goes to mess hall then his bunk while Hansel goes to Marion. She asks him about the Tiger I, if he had a nickname, Hansel didn’t even ask, too late now he says and they start talking lovingly. Meanwhile, the two sly lovers slip away in the night, all the while French kissing, their seemingly new thing, to fulfill their promises to each other the night before.
Fin Chapter 17
Kramia and Mini were locked in a long, sensual and sexual kiss; once they pulled away they eyed each other in the eye, silently thinking the same thing. They have developed such strong bonds they think the same, and can have a whole conversation with one another silently by just looking into their eyes’ and thinking about the subject, a sort of telepathy. Under the cover of mostly darkness, the two turn in a certain direction, and drive off together quietly, holding and kissing each other fondly. They break through the trees and come across a trail that looked so natural only a surveyor could possibly tell the difference between a natural and this unnatural trail, they get to a small opening, enclosed on all by dense forests, and they finally talk. Dirty.
“Oh I’m going to fuck you so hard tonight!” Mini exclaims in his Russian voice, which he’s quite fluent in.
“Is that so? Compared with what I’ll do to you I’ll have to drag you back!” Kramia says in her excellent German speech. Tempting him with sly movements away from him, they move around the perimeter like they were stalking each other.
“It’ll be borderline rape, my dear-”
“Prove it then!” She does an immediate one-eighty spin and thrusts her hind quarters upward, revealing her purged lips from the nether region. Mini is mystified, he never thought it’d look that good, the way the moon hit her seam made the silver-gray metal sheen and sparkle, probably because she was extremely wet, but still, the way it split was magnificent. There was perfect symmetry with the halves; its shape looked like a connected exclamation mark, the profound clit at the bottom forming the dot, the placement was in the center of the rear lower glacis plate, different from German tanks because theirs is under the hull, however the armor plates used to protect it aren’t as thick as Kramia’s. She turned her turret to look at him out of the corner of her eye.
“What’s wrong? Russian got you cat?” She was making fun out of his tank name, Panther, when she did, he snapped out of his trance, and rolled up to her hind where she lowered it, and awaited him to mount. He mounted with ease, simply rolling onto the sloped upper portion using it as a ramp, no jumping was needed. He moved until he was ready, and released his strengthened member from its housing, and pressed it against her lips then proceeding to stroke up and down, feeling her hot lips on his end, all his for the taking, she was moaning, and revving her engine, turning both of them on and horny even more, his cock grew harder and longer than it ever has before, shocking Mini at first, jolting him when it started painfully throbbing and demanding penetration. He smiled as he remembered her sensitive area; he let many of his manipulators, most without hands or ‘stubbies’ as he calls them, caress, fondle, sooth and stimulate her two exhaust pipes and their armored casings.
“Ahhhh, deeper Mir, go deeper…” Kramia let out in a low sigh, the joy the exhaust outlets were having made her diesel sound off loud and proud, all the while Mini was still stroking her pussy lips with his throbbing cock. He did go deeper, two of his stubbies slithered into her two exhaust pipes, one each, and trekked in a spiral deeper towards her engine block, she was growing hotter and hotter, and her cries were louder and louder. He reached out with one outside and stroked her left cheek, she grabbed his palm with one of hers and gripped it tight, painfully almost, she loved this! Her pipes were stuffed, she felt him pushing against the pipes, expanding them while they were hot and malleable, his dick was at her split, rubbing her lips against her cold plating, pinching them, sending waves of sensations to her, his grip on hers is warm and comforting. It started to drizzle, then he reached her engine, she ceased up immediately and gasped in short quick breaths, he knew she had enough of that and pulled his arms back. He didn’t want to turn her off; he hasn’t fucked her yet…
Hansel and Marion watched as Kramia and Mini drove off to the woods, Hansel drifted to the sky; cloudy, but still beautiful with a bright moon and stars shining down. Marion asked about his former host, the Tiger, about his story. Hansel told her about his assignment, and he figured is how he, Hansel, was purposely put in command of a living tank for a reason, because he apparently already had experience before with such topics. Marion asked about how he’s doing now, and Hansel explains his new station of being a mentor for a tank crew of just female tankers, and how he’s in a relationship with one. The thought of how sex would play out for them excited Marion, she ignored most of what Hansel was saying and was eyeing his body, and slowly backing up toward the tree line so Hansel, still gazing at the stars, wouldn’t notice. She feels herself hit a tree on her rear, and stops and starts seducing Hansel, her favorite pastime, and is quite effective what with days of practice because there was nothing to do helping. They start stripping Hansel as the clouds roll in the night sky and release their payload down upon them.
Hansel is half naked when Marion curses and beckons him inside her turret to hide from the rain, not wanting him to get muddy in a real fuck, where he’d be under her in the mud sloshing about, that’d be really hard to cover up. He plants himself on his commanding seat and lets Marion’s internal manipulators surround him, Marion is still horny, and is very hard to sway away. She sneaks two handless manipulators into his pants, one from the bottom of his right pant leg, the other from his waistband, they meet at the groin, and stroke Hansel’s half-hardened penis to wake it up again while two handed manipulators undo his pants fly. Hansel quickly catches on when the two in his pants pops his stiffened cock out the fly. Marion wraps the two handless ones around his dick, and lets a handless one down at her sensitive region emerge and circle her clit.
“Wait, this isn’t fair, I get all the fun!” Hansel states rhetorically.
“No I owe you, remember last night?” Marion reassures him; he looks down and shakes his head.
“No, no, no, you don’t owe me for that. I’m sure of it, you don’t owe me.”
She proceeds anyway, the upper manipulator arm tightens up to get a better grip, and starts running up and down the shaft, slow at first, to test the range she can pull either way, once she has that down, she picks up the pace. Down under, Marion’s little friend is lubed up from her own juices and is racing up and down her lips, and circling her clit, and occasionally popping in for a relube and for sheer amusement, on Hansel’s end she grips hard and jerks fast, Marion’s been holding onto Hansel’s hands for a while now, and she can feel his grip tightening, and his back and legs squirming, her own actions are producing similar reactions from her, and she picks up the pace even more until she is doing what Hansel is doing: gripping, shuddering and squirming, and taking short gasps and sighs in quick intervals.
“I can’t last much more-” He gasps out, “Where’s it going?”
“I don’t give a fuck.” She blurts out fast, also heightened to the verge of her climax.
Hansel cums right after that, letting out a long sigh and a deep breath, then he leans over to his left against the inside of the turret, Marion starts squeezing his body tighter, Hansel blurts out Marion’s constraining him then he realizes she’ll be done soon, so he takes in a deep breath while he can and holds it, letting Marion constrict him like a python and continue to beat away at his meat. She doesn’t last all that much longer, she suddenly stops shuddering and releases, both pressure in her vagina and in her suspension, hydraulics, and grip on Hansel and his softening member, realizing he finished and was beating a horse’s dead meat. As she sinks to the ground, to lie and rest on her hull belly, she brings up:
“So… if I don’t owe you… wouldn’t you now… owe me?” She says, taking heavy breaths between every phrase. Hansel nods and agrees, both exhausted Hansel clears out what life support gear was left in the back of the turret and curled up in a ball to sleep in the space, Marion’s arms as a blanket and a sleeping roll as a pillow.
“I wonder how the other two are doing…” Marion asks in a perky mood, trying to start a late-night conversation.
Mini pulled out the stubbies and had them circle Kramia’s exhaust pipe opening, restarting her lustful engine and prompting her back to her previous sexual level. He paused with the stroking, and pulled back, causing Kramia to protest, but her cries turned from pleading no to pleading more, as he thrusts inside her and comes across her plush wall. He probes it waiting for Kramia to move it, he knew that female tanks can move it to prevent pregnancy, or at least German tanks can…
“Kramia, are you going to move it?” He asks as he plucks at it.
“What my cervix? No we can’t move that, what made you think we could?” She asks him, he answers that the German tank designer told Jäger this while on the eastern front. “Well I can’t! Besides… I’ve heard great things if you’d just push on…” She says seducing, Mini can’t stand being half in and out, so he pushes on through, evoking a pleasured groan from Kramia, and the best sensation Mini’s ever felt in his existence. She was soft, but firm, tight, yet loose, she had a sort of softness on the outer layer that moved like a case then a firm and constricting layer underneath, creating a blend of feelings that merged together under the awesome amount of heat and soaking conditions. He felt trickles of her wet liquids run down the exposed areas of his cock, and felt them go into his seam for his member’s housing, and it set off an alarm.
“Kramia, there’s nothing to stop me from impregnating you is there?” He asked concerned
“No, please don’t… I don’t want to be put out of service on day one. Please don’t let it happen!” She begs, confidently however, knowing she can trust him.
“I won’t, precious.” He answers as he begins pumping in and out of her, every thrust into the cervix releases a loving moan or groan or yelp from the both of them. He pounds her and pounds her, hard and fast, so good Kramia’s eyes rolled back and she started to drool a little. One of Mini’s manipulators found her clit amidst the ramming, and proceeded to circle it, compress it, grip it, anything that made Kramia moan more, then he started to feel it coming on, he slowed the pace and power, letting Kramia regain her wits and figure out what she wants next from him.
“Kramia… I-I-I’m closssse… I neeeed to stop!” With that he retracts out, and lets his pressure subside, while he did that, Kramia set him up for her onslaught.
“My turn, baby dear.” She backs up do a wide and deep ditch, still carrying Mini on her back, and dumps his ass into the ditch, leaving him stuck, and nose to the sky, while his dick sticks out proudly. Kramia gets a glimpse of it, it looked so mighty and powerful, long and wide, a silver metallic casing covered with little sensors and at the tip, a vertical slit for their future children to claim their spot in the world, she thought. The base merged into something inside the hull, still closed off on the inside, she backed up to his shaft, and pressed the underside against her loosened seam, squeezing it between the hulls where she slid a couple of her manipulators into the base slit.
“Well, well, what are these you’re hiding from me?” She found his testicles, and was pulling and pushing them around inside their hull housing. Mini can’t see anything she’s doing with his body in the way.
“Those are my balls, p-please be gentle…” He shuddered and stammered, protective of his sensitive sack, being pricked and probed around inside him, the feeling was eerie; he gave in to her tugs, and opened enough for his sack to slip out. For now.
“Now I can start.” Up and down she slides, pressing against his hull belly and sandwiching his member in the middle, pulling the seed pipes and tubing up, in turn pulling the attached testicle sack up with her motions, and then dropping the package down back to place. After a few repetitions the manipulators holding his testes released and retracted, and he discretely slipped them back inside, safe and sound. Kramia continued in her grinding, every once and a while the grip would slip, letting his member deeper inside by a centimeter or two, then after an unknown amount of time, it slipped again only the rain water built up with her wet oils sent his whole package inside her and was pressing hard on the roof of her vagina. They were taken by surprised and took in a quick gasp of air, then sat there for a moment until she rolled forward, to set the bent-up member to its more natural shape then rushed back on it, almost tipping Mini onto his turret. Once he was inside her cervix, she gripped tight, and rocked to and fro, pulling him with her; the fine movements between their two sensitive parts sent both of them into another world of stimulation with their engines humming in an idle as this was the only noise uttered by them while they thought to each other.
“Kramia I need to pull out!” Mini suddenly snaps back to reality and feels how close he is.
“Mmmmm, just a little more…-” She says still entranced, Mini flips out at how close he is and uses all his manipulators to throw her off his approaching orgasm. She’s shocked back once he throws her, not far, only a foot from his tip, but is enough to send her to reality, she spins her turret around in haste when he releases a pleasured moan, to see a trickle of seed come out, the moonlight made it appear like platinum, it looked irresistible… As Mini rambles on apologizing for the near impregnation, Kramia turns around licking her ‘lips’ and coldly staring at his gleaming erection. She draws closer to it, and as she does she slowly lowers her suspension until her chest is scraping the ground.
“One way or another, you’re cumming inside me!” She says as she grabs his cock and pulls it inside her mouth, Mini was about to ask what she meant when he felt the sensation of being inside her mouth. She pulled him in deep, bending his dick downward to fit it into her mouth and throat with considerable comfort overriding any pain. He’s breath taken as she begins to suck and swallow her own saliva, her throat pumping and pulling the upper portion of his cock down deeper and creating most emphasis on his head, while Kramia’s tongue wrapped around and tasted his mid-shaft, her lips and some manipulators pulling on his lower shaft, sort-of jerking him off inside her mouth, enjoying the mix of herself and him as a taste, still awaiting his creamy treat to be distributed. He was still pressurized from the last scare, so she didn’t have to wait long for him to announce his near arrival, where she retracted him, leaving only the head inside, and used her manipulators to jerk him off then to milk him. He released with force, pulling back on Kramia, who lurched forward to keep him inside, and let his moan of appreciation sound the woods. Kramia felt his hot molten goodness spread against her mouth, he shot it like a shotgun, and while she milked some out in a steady fashion, her tongue cleaned up her mouth, tasting his cream, letting it tingle her cheeks and tongue. As he pulls out thinking he finished, a sporadic bust surfaced, and shot a stream to her right cheek then a thick bunch drooped down to her glacis chest. She traced it up with a finger, and happily dispensed it to her mouth.
She goes to help him down as he puts away his tired beast, she backs up to his right flank and grabs his hull overhang of the track cover. He notices she’s still open and hasn’t finished, one way or another, YOU’RE going to cum inside me, as she pulls him on his side into a wider portion of the ditch, he rights himself up, grabs her rear drive wheels, and pulls her gorgeous wet pussy to his gun mantle, where he dropped his gun and put it to the right, and positioned her just right for the best contact of lips-to-lips. She instantly realizes what he’s doing and lets him control her, unable to see the best placement. He awkwardly smiles as he lurches his lips onto hers, and sucks away, trying to get as much juice out of her, she tastes normal, almost the same as he tastes his saliva, only her juices are warmer, slicker, and has an enjoyable kick to it. He feels she’s had enough of that, and retracts his lips and sends forth his long pointed tongue, to break her warm doors open and infiltrate her warmth. He gets the same taste but different feel, she’s looser than when they started, and this makes exploring easy, he goes right to the rumored G-spot is, and isn’t misinformed of its whereabouts, her engine sparks up immediately and her suspension goes limp. She slams onto the deck of his hull and lets all control go.
“You like that, don’t you Kramia?”
“Oh yes I do, I do, I do so MUCH!”
“Don’t withhold anything; let your body be free.”
With that he plunges back in, and hatches an idea, he sends one of his stubbies to fondle the shit out of her clit. Her overexcited engine and screams of joy approve this. She was calmed down from her last penetration but the fast toying of her G-spot AND her clit proved too much for her to handle. She came fast and in bursts, letting it out without a warning, not like Mini cared. He let it splash onto his face, into his mouth, and it spread to the top of his mantle to his turret ring. He was warmed, and rejoiced by it; she slowly hauled herself off him, and watched him climb out of the ditch.
“Shall we be off to camp for a good night’s sleep?” He asked her.
“Yes, at least the rain will wash us clean.” She said back.
They drove off, holding each other lovingly. Kramia fell asleep halfway to camp, and left herself in neutral to allow Mini to carry her home. He softly chuckled as he spotted Marion fast asleep in the tree line.
“A good night for everyone.”
Fin Chapter 18
Well, that’s it for now, if Ratbat asks me to change the layout I will, it is quite long. If you have any feed back on how I may improve my writing I’m always open to feed back, what little I usually receive. Thank you for reading!
So by request, it is my distinct pleasure to present for your Vadik’s lover, the second instalation. This was the result of a conversation that just made itself into a perfect story. It will be provided below.
It had been a few weeks since she had found herself lying on a grassy mountain top, naked with that massive Soviet armored car. Vadik had shown her the time of her life and she loved him for it, or at least she thought she did. She couldn’t for a second believe that she could be having such feelings for a machine, yet, she found herself sneaking off every night to be with him. Some nights they would make love on that isolated mountain top and others she would simply lay on his roof staring up at the stars while he sang her Russian lullabies. It was a feeling she couldn’t fight, no matter how hard she tried.
After her graduation from college she had entered her career field but, it all felt wrong, it all felt wrong. Her mind would always stray as the doodle of a BRDM would appear on her paper before quickly having to hide it before her coworkers noticed her absent mindedness. She told Vadik of this, how nothing away from him felt right. Vadik insisted she come work at the airfeild, he could speak to Chase and he would give her a job. She could even come live with him. They could live together in his shop, everything was already set up from all the times she has spent the night. She could sleep on the large cushion he had laid out on the ground for her. She recalled all the nights she had laid on the pad wrapped in a blanket while he rolled his large steel chassis over her, his heat keeping her warm and the gentle vibrations from his engine lulling her to sleep. Never had she slept better than she had with him.
She agreed and they made all the arrangements. Chase eagerly agreed, thinking it was finally time that Vadik had someone to take care of him. Her roommate squealed with excitment when she told her wrapping her in a tight hug. “I’m going to visit you all the time” she would always say “I just can’t get enough of that Leopard. You think I should date him?”
Now she was living happily at the machine’s airfeild, working in administration for the Tri-Star group. She was dedicated to her work, dedicated to Vadik. They would often take camping trips out in the Californian countryside, discovering places only accessible by a robust off road vehicle like himself. Upon their return came her favorite part, getting to bathe her BRDM.
“That was a lot of fun Vadik” she said as they rolled behind his garage, just returning from one of their weekend camping trips. He had given her off road driving lessons, showing her how to pilot a BRDM across extreme terrain. The expirence was exhilarating, bouncing along the rocky trails, splashing through deep mud puddles, sliding sideways across slick grassy fields.
“It was” he replied shutting off his engine, allowing it to cool as he relaxed.
“Now my favorite part” she said beginning to unzip her Russian camouflage jumpsuit, a gift from him. He smiled as he noticed she wore nothing under it, only her bare human flesh. She stripped down to nothing, just the way she liked it, just the way he liked it. Oh how he wanted to play with those beautiful perky human breasts, and that lushious ass of hers, she was a well formed girl. Once he got her to put down her hair she was a woman any man would last for.
She strolled over to the wall and retrieved the hose coiled on the wall and turned the water on. She began to run the gentle stream of water over his mud caked hull, the clumps of dirt falling away to show his dark green skin, revealing his many battle scars. She couldn’t even imagine all the battles he has seen. He seldom shared anyhting about his time in war but the marks were evidence of heavy fighting on far off battlefields.
As she finished washing away the mud she disappears into the garage and reappears with a steaming bucket of hot soapy water, the suds falling over the edge as she strolls back to his side. She reaches through the foam and pulls out a warm soapy sponge. He shudders as the warm sponge touches his armor and begins washing him clean.
She always liked this part, getting to rub him all over. In some way she loved caring for him. He was always so selfless, doing so much for others he deserved to be taken care of, to have someone who was there for him. Doing circles she began covering his body with a thick coat of foam. He almost couldn’t take it as she presses her naked body against his side to clean one of his high spots.
This turns him on so much, having his lover pressed up against him. Her touch, her voice makes him swell and he can’t help himself. His arousal mounts causing his large probe to slip out of him from near his rear differential.
She continues onto his tire, cleaning his hub and thick all-terrain tire. While cleaning the deep ruts of his tire she notices the thick member hanging between his tires. She continues to rub the sponge and her hand against his body as she walks to the back of him. Without him noticing she crawls under his chassis and takes hold of his thick girth wrapping her lips around his head and feeding it deeper into her mouth.
His engine jumps to life, revving with the sudden pleasure his armored jaw dropping as she feeds his swollen cock into her mouth. He gasps, his mouth gaping wide open and shuts his eyes tight. His systems fluttering with sudden delight and pleasure.
She tongues the slit of his dick as if trying to make out with the opening as it seeped into her mouth, already tasting his thick machine pre. She then removes him from her mouth and wipes her hand across the opening slathering her hand in his silvery precum. Rubbing it up and down his shaft she uses it to lube things up, his probe feels hot and big in her little hands. With both palms she strokes him up into her mouth and sucks at his tip. His fat rubber tires shiver and he lets out a short soft moan as she continues to rub his swollen cock, feeling the smooth ribbed surface against her soft skin. He’s so hot in her hands and she can feel the raw weight of his engorged machine erection, a real man of a machine, and he’s all hers.
His tendrils deploy to caress her hair and scalp letting her do her work. She turns him on so bad, so fucking bad. He hears the sounds of her hot mouth slurping and sucking at his most sensitive tip and he can’t help but rev his burly Russian engine.
She drinks the heavy silvery pre from his tip and licks her lips. “Soo good My love, your taste.” She exclaims and shoves him deeper into her mouth, shoving his hot machine cock as deep in her mouth as she can, feeling it’s broad tip touching the back of her throat. Her other hand reaching out to stroke and caress the underside of his chassis, feeling years of pitting and the warmth of life.
Vadik’s deep voice raises a tiny bit letting out a wimper as her tongue begins rubbing against the base of his head. His tendrils coil around her breasts squeezing and kneading the soft squishy tissues in his grasp, the ends feeling her tender nipples. Feeling her hard nipples and hunger for his “taste” only made him grow even harder and fatter, swelling in her lips.
She fingers his axl and his panels a bit more. Working his heavy cock into her mouth she can tell by the sound of his engine that he was getting close. Her lips pull away with a “schlik” followed by a quick kiss to the tip of his dick only to lick and kiss his well maintained belly. “Good Vadik? Enjoyable?” She says, a rope of his pre dangling from her lip.
He is reduced to just his heavy Russian words now. Passionate and strained words pouring from his tongue. His big intakes sucking in dripping handfuls of air.
Rapidly she releases him and rolls into her back facing away from his back end. She raises her legs and knees till his throbbing soviet iron is pressed hard against her ass crack and demands “Vadik cum inside me! Pour your love into me! Fill me up with you hot machine seed!” She so wet for him, he’s about to cum just feeling her soft hips along his length, her skin against his steel.
He pulls her ass cheeks appart and forces his burning pre oozing probe deep into her pussy and rocks back and forth on his fat wheels rideing his beutiful little human woman. Pushing, forcing himself into her again and again and again.
She’s so tight he screams and releases in a passionate explosion inside of her. Her body yanked and jerked along for the ride with so much power above her as he climaxes inside her, the thick machine cum being squished around inside her body as he continues thrusting. She cries out feeling his hot fluids warm her body “Cum in me Vadik! Cum!!” and he plows her, fucks her and cums while pumping away.
His little tendrils protecting her ears from his earth shakingly loud V-8 orgasm. His tendrils pull her to him, embrace her body fully against him, a huge silvery mess forming on the floor.
It felt so good for the old machine. He closed his eyes again and smileing huge as he continues to hold her loveingly against his underside.
omeone to pick off all the leaves stuck in his panels . She kisses and rubbs his 40 year old armor
[10/25/2014 7:34:17 PM] DELTA X3: 🙂 that old war dog needs a little tlc
[10/25/2014 7:34:30 PM] DELTA X3: I see this coming together
[10/25/2014 7:34:54 PM] RATBAT: Like think about how much Anya would live a slow warm hand washing inside the dimly lit hangar. You see the silhouette of chases nude chest upon her round airframe slowly ringing out a rag and rubbing it against her body. The heat from the water wafting up from the rag
[10/25/2014 7:35:22 PM] RATBAT: now think of this comeing from vadiks woman and her kissing and detailing him slowly
[10/25/2014 7:36:33 PM] RATBAT: Her touch .. Her voice makes him swell and he cannot help himself buy his large probe slips out of him from near his rear differential
[10/25/2014 7:37:11 PM] RATBAT: :she notices… Rubbs his body as she walks to the back of him and falls to her knees
[10/25/2014 7:37:50 PM] RATBAT: Vadik notices but says nothing. He smiles excitedly like “Oh!! ”
[10/25/2014 7:38:22 PM] RATBAT: And she crawls under and takes his swollen cock into her mouth
[10/25/2014 7:38:48 PM] RATBAT: He revs up slightly at the sudden pleasure
[10/25/2014 7:39:15 PM] RATBAT: such a sweet American human taking care of this old Russian
[10/25/2014 7:39:54 PM] RATBAT: She uses his pre and lubes things up– his probe feels hot and big in her little hands..
[10/25/2014 7:40:28 PM] RATBAT: With both palms she strokes him up into her mouth and sucks at his tip
[10/25/2014 7:41:00 PM] RATBAT: His fat rubber tires shiver and he lets out a short soft moan
[10/25/2014 7:41:34 PM] RATBAT: His tendrils deploy to caress her hair and scalp letting her do her work
[10/25/2014 7:42:00 PM] DELTA X3: This is so hot, please go on
[10/25/2014 7:45:44 PM] RATBAT: In front his big heavy APC armor plate jaw twists and it looks as if he’s in pain but he gapes his mouth open and shuts his eyes so tight . His systems fluttering with sudden delight and heat.
[10/25/2014 7:47:25 PM] RATBAT: She turns him on so bad…so fucking bad… :he hears the sounds of her hot mouth slurping and sucking at his most sensitive tip and he can’t help but rev suddenly
[10/25/2014 7:50:08 PM] RATBAT: She drinks the heavy silvery pre from his tip and licks her lips. “Soo good My love, your taste. And pulls him deeper into her mouth tongue his flareing machine cock. Her other hand reaching out to stroke and caress the underside of his chassis .. Feeling years of pitting and the warmth of life
[10/25/2014 7:52:44 PM] RATBAT: Vadiks deep voice raises a tiny bit to a wimper and his tendrils coil around her breasts– she was often nude so he could enjoy her unsullied beauty .. But feeling her hard nipples and hunger for his “taste” made him grow even harder- fatter into her lips.
[10/25/2014 7:54:33 PM] RATBAT: She fingers his axl and his panels a bit more. Her lips pulling him away with a “schlik” to lick and kiss his well maintained belly. “Good Vadik? Enjoyable?”
[10/25/2014 7:56:26 PM] RATBAT: He is reduced to just His heavy Russian words now. Passionate and streighned words pouring from his tongue … His big intakes sucking in dripping handfuls of air
[10/25/2014 7:57:57 PM] RATBAT: Working his heavy cock into her mouth she can tell by the sound of his engine that he was getting close
[10/25/2014 7:59:54 PM] RATBAT: Rapidly she releases him and rolls into her belly facing away from his back end, she raises her legs and knees till his throbbing soviet iron is pressed hard against her ass crack and demands
[10/25/2014 8:01:03 PM] RATBAT: “Vadik cum inside me! Pour your love into me! ::presses hard against him:: ” Fill me up with you hot machine seed!”
[10/25/2014 8:01:52 PM] DELTA X3: 🙂
[10/25/2014 8:02:29 PM] RATBAT: His eyes go wide and state at nothing . He feels wild and excited mouth a gape, tires a shakeing , his tendrils grab at her ass and thighs
[10/25/2014 8:03:01 PM] RATBAT: She so wet for him–he’s about to cum just feeling her soft hips along his length
[10/25/2014 8:05:23 PM] RATBAT: He pulls her appart and forces his burning pre oozing probe deep– so deep into her pussy and rocks back n forth on his fat wheels rideing his beutifull little human woman
[10/25/2014 8:05:33 PM] RATBAT: Again and again and again
[10/25/2014 8:06:37 PM] RATBAT: She’s so tight he screams and releases in a passionate explosion inside of her
[10/25/2014 8:07:00 PM] RATBAT: Her body yanked and jerked along for the ride with so much power abouve her
[10/25/2014 8:09:40 PM] RATBAT: She cries out feeling his hot fluids warm her body “cum in me Vadik! Cum!!” And he plows her, fucks her and cums while pumping away
[10/25/2014 8:10:17 PM] RATBAT: His little tendrils protecting her ears from his earthshaking my loud v12 orgasm
[10/25/2014 8:10:30 PM] RATBAT: Ly*
[10/25/2014 8:13:11 PM] RATBAT: His tendrils pull her to him, embrace her fully against him.. There is a huge silvery mess on the floor. It felt so good for the ol machine. He closed his eyes again and smiled huge.. Sighed and continued to hold her loveingly against the underside if him.
[10/25/2014 8:13:39 PM] RATBAT: Good medicine for an old soldier
This week I scored a 96% on 2 school exams ANNND I completed a piece of art on the same day. You’d think I was on top of the world with how on a roll I am right now. But Pulling straight A’s in all of my classes like a boss, and doing art, took it’s toll, Because I was in a car accident that could have been 100% avoided had I just slept for 8 hours the previous night. On Tuesday I fell asleep at the wheel on the freeway during rush hour. I hit a truck, and spun out in a 720 before coming to a stop in a construction median. It was a miracle that I didn’t die/get injured/injure someone else/kill someone else. The cost of being a fucking dumb ass, is that my car may in fact be totaled. I put people at risk, and for that- I am an asshole. I will get the appraisers report back on Tuesday to see if they will be willing to fix my car or if I’ll be going shopping for something out of the hertz lot. I may not deserve my car back but–
Please Please Please ye Gods, please fix my kia. (now to cheer myself up..)
Official M50 commercial spoofs on the British version of Topgear.
Season 5 of walking dead cant fucking happen fast enough IMO. (I watch Vikings, The walking dead, and Game of thrones. those are my shows)
NEW LIVING MACHINE PORN STORIES
•story by Admiralstarknight (author of the alpha story)
As i walk along the deck of the USS Wisconsin, i smile. I was on a self-guided tour of the deck, looking up at the large guns which graced this battleship.
As i look up as a tour walks past i sigh. I was having a great small vacation stay don here in Norfolk, but i missed my home and Alpha. Just thinking of him, made me feel wet. His thick aircraft cock sliding into me, while i moan in pleasure.
I shift slightly to look around at the deck. It wasn’t all that crowded, probably because it was getting close to the museum’s closing time.
I feel something brush my elbow, at first it was some sort of small bug it was so light. But then it wrapped around my arm and i turn my eyes down in surprise as I see a mechanical tentacle around my arm. So far she had only thought aircraft were alive, but the tentacle which i could see was coming from the ship proved otherwise. I look up and around for a face, there was none though, there were still people on deck. The tentacle tugged me towards an unknown location and I followed it without much difficulty.
When it was at an angle where none of the people could see, a few more appeared and dragged me safely into a hiding spot. I took a moment to glance at my phone and note that it was in fact a few minutes past closing time.
I frowned. Would someone from the museum doing a check over find her? Would there be guards? The question ‘Why is the Wisconsin hiding me?’ never even occurred to me. I knew why. Just like the aircraft, the ship seemed to know I knew about living machines, and that I wasn’t going to spill the beans. I never would.
As I finally think of why the Wisconsin was hiding me I shiver in anticipation. How large could a ship be? Well, she was about to find out. As the tentacles dragged her out of her hiding spot it was quite dark out, the crickets chirped and the sound of ships active around Norfolk reached her as she looked upon the lights of the city of Norfolk.
“Now Wisconsin,” I say with a smile. “I hope you understand I have an aircraft back home who expects me to arrive back in one piece.”
To my surprise I didn’t just get a blink, but a reply.
“I doubt he’ll mind. Most aircraft who fuck humans tend to know that ships don’t get as much as they do.” Wisconsin’s voice sounded powerful and soft, for a ship his size and I look up and meet his eyes with a smile. “You do not mind do you? The person is usually here is not available.”
“You have a person?”
“Yes. The young officer who knows about us living machines is not here, but she still managed to have this time of night cleared so I could relax, however, I sensed something about you and decided to keep you around.” Wisconsin replied as tentacles began to tug at my clothing. I take off my shirt for him and the tentacles quickly rid of my bra. “You do not seem as scared as my person was the first time.”
“I trust that you will not hurt me.” I reply as the tentacles dragged my pants and underwear off with a few tugs, leaving my exposed and I was grateful the bow of the ship was not facing towards land as if you had the right equipment, you could see me on the deck.
I smile as I see Wisconsin’s penis emerge from where it was hidden away from the public eye. It was larger than Alpha’s (then again, comparing a ship to a Piper was sort off) but I could handle it. I kneel down and take it into my hands a run my hands down the warm metal, leaning forward to lick it and seeing the ship close its eyes in pleasure. I lick the precum off as I feel a tentacle wrap around a breast and one slip between my legs to rub at my already eager vagina.
“Someone’s a bit horny tonight.” The ship said softly, obviously amused at how fast I had gotten turned on as he pulled the tentacle free and felt the wetness. I could hear the smile in his voice as I ran my tongue up his large penis again. “Oh you’re good.” He said.
Then, he wrapped a tentacle around my legs and laid me back onto the deck, exposing my vagina I could feel the deck beneath me shiver slightly in excitement. I felt his penis push into me and I moaned as the large ship filled me.
“Oh God you’re tight.” Wisconsin says as he begins to thrust his penis in and out of me.
I don’t answer to lost in pleasure as the large ship thrusts into me. I moan my approval and pleasure and he speeds up his movements, knowing that this time would have to end and his current mate should not be here.
As his thrusts peed up I keep my moans low and mouth shut. I had learned with Alpha not to make too much noise, and this was no different. Just my luck I drew attention to Wisconsin.
I moan and arch my back against his deck at the pleasure. “Wisconsin.. I’m close.”
“I can tell.” The battleship sounded a bit breathless, trying to keep his sounds to a minimum. “Cum for me, I shall for you.”
I bite my lip to keep myself from moaning loudly as I came and I heard a deep moan and felt a shiver through the deck beneath me as Wisconsin shoved his penis deep inside me and came himself.
I take a few seconds to gather my breath as Wisconsin withdraws from me and I sit up to look up at the large battleship. “Your partner is a lucky woman.”
“I know that.”
I was startled by the voice of another human as a young woman walked up on deck, obviously a naval officer. I blush, not use to being naked in front of others but the woman smiles and offers me a hand. She pulls me to my feet.
“I thought you said you would not be able to make it.” Wisconsin pointed out.
“I was able to shift my schedule around and thought I could get down here in time. Seems you found someone else.” The woman didn’t sound mad. “Tell me, how long have you known?”
I begin to gather up my clothes from the deck. “I… have known about living aircraft for quite a while. I didn’t know ships were living beings too.”
“Well the old man wasn’t too rough with you, was he?” The woman said with a small chuckle and the battle ship wrapped a tentacle around her lovingly.
“No, he was perfect.” I said with a small chuckle. “I have to get back to my hotel and I sort of don’t want to do that alone Ma’am.”
“Of course. ” The woman said. “My name is Lieutenant Rachael Kline. May I have the pleasure of knowing the name of a fellow human who had reveled in the pleasure of living machines?”
I smile as I put on my shirt and smooth out the wrinkles. “I am Caitlyn StarNight. My, uh, ‘mate’ is named Alpha, a Piper Archer.”
“Nice.” She said as she led the way off and around the yard to where she could leave without it being suspicious. She took a pen out of her pocket and wrote down a number on my arm. “Here, if you ever want to join us again, give me a call during the day and I can arrange something. I’m sure Wisconsin would just love it.”
“I’m sure he would.” I say with a chuckle as I begin to walk down the street to my hotel.
• When in Russia ( story by Delta-x3 the guy who did the nighthawk story)
My second Living machine story based from the artwork of the ever brilliant ratbat
An American embassy guard in Russia is invited for a “personal tour” with a Mi-24 helicopter.
When in Russia:
-Personal journal entry 451: 8 May 2022
-I took leave for the week to see the Victory Day parade in Red Square to get some time away from guarding the embassy. They’re having a preview day where they will be having static displays of a lot of the vehicles and weapons systems that will take part in the Parade tomorrow. Being an American in Moscow at the moment isn’t the easiest thing but I can speak the language and I will have Leonid with me in case any problems should arise (he’s ex-Spetsnaz so he can kill with three fingers but only needs two).
“Leonid!” Chase shouted trying to find the only person he knew in this massive assemblage of people. The two had been separated by a mob of people swarming across the square leaving him almost alone in the amongst the aircraft on display in the square.
“Loose something American?” He heard a female voice say from behind him.
Was it that obvious he thought to himself. Alone, he hesitantly turned around expecting to be verbally assaulted yet again and this time without Leonid there to get the assailant off his back. To his amazement it was not just anyone but a Mi-24P attack helicopter. This was not his first time encountering one of the living machines but somehow they always managed to surprise him and this time he stood face to face with a mighty Mi-24.
“You looking for someone?” she repeated as he caught himself staring at her.
“Yes umm. Da” he tried piecing together his best Russian “Leonid Krevski, white, 1.9 meters tall” his voice tapered off as he realized how futile it was trying to describe him to a stranger.
“We can talk English if you like, mine is not bad” which was true despite the thick Russian accent “I do not get to practice much but I will try.”
Chase was relieved, she seemed friendly, more so he was intrigued, this was a Hind, an extremely effective attack helicopter and a personal favorite of his and now one was having a conversation with him. A difficult thing to wrap his mind around to say the least. “I lost the person I came with in that big crowd”
“He’s probably over looking at the new Ka-113X with everyone else” she replied her mood souring a little “you could go and watch the demonstration and find him”
“I’d rather not, too many people and I’ve seen the 113X on the internet and I don’t really like the look. I’d really rather wait here and talk to the first Mi-24 I’ve ever met” she seemed to perk up a little “I’m guessing you don’t like the 113?” he said.
“No, I guess I’m jut a little, how do you say it, envious” she said a little embarrassed that she had been so transparent “It’s just that its the 113’s first show and its my last, they’re retiring me after this year. The golden eagles will be all Havocs after this one”
“I don’t see how they could do that” Chase said “you’re a legacy, the foundation of Russian attack helicopters. Mi-24s are without rival the best and definitely best looking helicopters ever made” he noticed he had begun to get over excited but then noticed what else he had done. This was one for the books, he had actually made a Hind blush.
Their conversation carried on for over an hour ranging from war theory to personal past to preferred ways to un-jam a DshK. Her name was Anya, last remaining Hind in service in the Russian Air force Golden Eagle aerial show team. He couldn’t help but feel bad for her every time she mentioned her imminent retirement. Were it his choice such a prize bird would never be forgotten.
He noticed a figure walking towards them “There he is” Chase said “its a Honor getting to talk to you Anya, I wish we had more time.”
She paused a second considering something “If you want a more personal tour you could come to my hangar tonight
“Definitely” he replied concealing his excitement.
“Go to the Barrikadnaya Metro station at Midnight”
“There you are” Leonid exclaimed in Russian as he approached the two “don’t get lost like that, cant have you getting mugged.” Not acknowledging Anya which was not uncommon in Russia, the living machines were not held in the same regard as in the US, they had yet to really accept them as more than the machines they once were, a point of friction currently in the State Duma.
“Lets go” and the two walked off. Chase hoped she was insinuating what he thought she was. It was either that or he would get to the meeting spot and there would be a van of masked men with black bags waiting.
-Personal Journal entry 452: 7 May 2022
-So I’ve been invited for an evening with a Mi-24 Attack helicopter named Anya. Crazy right? I don’t know what she has planned but I’m hopefully optimistic. It could be the FSB trying to nab up an embassy guard but that’s not likely… I hope.”
Chase stood at the metro entrance, wrapped tightly in his “soviet special” double breasted overcoat and fur hat. Leonid had advised against him going out alone at night but this was worth the risk, an evening with Anya.
The street was nearly deserted when he saw a set bright lights coming his way accompanied by the roaring of a heavy engine. Breaks squealed loudly as the BRDM 2 scout car came to a rapid stop in front of him. “Are you Chase?” a voice said in Russian. It took him a second to process it but the voice came from the vehicle itself. Another living machine Chase thought to himself, two in one day was quite a stretch but at least it wasn’t a black van with head bags. “we haven’t got all day crawl in, Anya sent me.”
Chase nodded and crawled up the side of the armored car and into the side seat.
“Anya sent me to pick you up” the machine said in a gruff Russian voice “I am Vadik. A friend of Anya’s”
“She sent you to come get me? Where is she?” $300 of language software finally paying off.
“Believe it or not American , this may be Russia but landing a helicopter in the middle of a street draws attention here also”.
Chase nodded, Thinking of it now, it made sense.
“She is at the Kubinka air base.”
“How do you know her” He could hardly hear himself think over Vadik’s engine
“Her and I have been at Kubinka for a long time. My model has not seen combat in a long time so I just pull planes around. I once pulled a An-225 solo” personal pride filling the scout car’s voice. “It shouldn’t be to long before were there, put on the helmet if you value your hearing.”
They drove for just over an hour until they reached the airbase.
“Stay quiet” Vadik said as they rolled up to the gate. A guard stepped out of his box. “Open the gate you drunk Siberian bastard” Vadik shouted at the guard.
The guard walked to his front “And why should I let you in you old hunk of scrap metal”
“Because if you don’t I’m going to run you over and use you to paint the runway”
They both stared at one another for a moment then eroupted in laughter “get your ass out of here before you rust all over everything” the guard replied as he hit the button opening the heavy metal gate. Vadik’s engines roared as he rolled through the gate.
“alright we’re in” Vadik said his tone becoming serious “just be careful who you tell of this, whatever you two do, remember that in Russia any relations between two Living machines is forbidden and even more so between the living machines and humans”
They drove through the open door of a well lit hanger and Chase climbed out. There she was, he hadn’t been able to take his mind off her all day.
“Chase! I’m glad you came” she said smiling as he jumped down. “Thanks for this Vadik”
“No problem, anything for you krasavitsa” Vadik said backing out.
Chase stood there looking at her, not sure how to start the conversation luckily she started it first. “I wasn’t sure you would actually come, but I’m glad you did” she said smiling at him “I got something for this evening” she motioned to a table with a tall glass bottle of Plinkova Elite Vodka.
Chase walked over and picked up the elaborately simple bottle “Isn’t this stuff like 800 dollars a bottle?”
She nodded “Da, Russians make the best vodka”
The bottle hissed as Chase broke the seal and poured a glass. At the first sip the elite quality of this vodka was evident.
“You like” she asked.
“I’ve never had this expensive of vodka before, its amazing”
“I’m glad you like it”
“So about this personal tour, what exactly does that entail”
“What do you want to see”
Chase took off his overcoat and gloves and placed them on the table “you don’t mind if I get more comfortable, I’ve never toured a hind and I take my tours very seriously.” This made her smile. He finished the glass of vodka as he loosened his tie. She shifted anxiously as he began unbuttoning his white undershirt. Two hours a day at the gym had finally paid off showcasing for Anya a toned fit physique.
“You take care of yourself well” she said “The human body is such a beautiful thing, its a shame you all keep them covered up”
“We don’t have the benefit of armor plating” Chase replied slipping out of his trousers. She licked her lips as she looked him from head to toe. “In Russia it would be nearly impossible for a vehicle to find a human willing to take the risk of being caught with a machine but to find one like you is beyond dreaming. Is this more common in America?”
“It’s not against the law like it is here. People have come to accept machines but most would still not have intimate relations with a machine, just us lucky few who see the the beauty in the machines we meet.”
“So tell me have you been with machines before?”
“A few” he replied.
“You know Chase” she said “This may be my last chance for love, I don’t know what they have planned for me after this parade is over. So do this one thing for me. Make love to me, make love to me like you never have before.” A request he would most willingly grant.
He slowly walked up to her took a knee moved his mouth to hers. Her lips were soft and smooth not what he expected of an armor plated helicopter like her. Her lips parted as he pressed his to hers and could already feel the warmth of her mouth as his tongue entered and was met by hers. Her hot breath was against his face as he tasted her tongue, her mouth had a metallic sweetness to it a taste he quickly came to love. It was a wonderful feeling kissing this helicopter.
She could have easily covered his entire face with her tongue but she wanted him to enjoy this as much as she was so she just allowed the end to dance with his, occasionally allowing hers to enter his mouth and feel around the inside of his lips and cheeks and deeper into his mouth. She had to make sure not to go to deep remembering humans used their mouths to breathe. Chase was intrigued by the taste, it was intoxicating and strangely addictive causing this kiss to last for over ten minutes of oral exploration. He had to be cautious of her razor sharp teeth, she was a predator after all, and a dangerous one at that, but also one who had chosen him to be a lover for the night.
A few seconds of deep breathing were required for Chase to catch his breath after they broke contact. She enjoyed humans, there was something more to them than making love to a machine. They were soft and flexible and had an interesting taste to them, a taste that she endulged her self with every chance she got. Mechanical tendrils extended from her underbelly, supporting him as she leaned him back. She extended her tongue putting it at his belly button and slowly began drawing it up his body, over his chest and along the ridge of his neck finally ending at the tip of his chin. She rolled her tongue back into her mouth savoring the taste “I’m going to enjoy this.”
She let him return to his feet “Is it customary in america to start with oral” Chase laughed, she had been watching to much american porn. He went over and grabbed his overcoat from the table and laid it on the ground “Is it customary in Russia to return the favor” he said removing his boxers laying on his coat and propping himself up on his elbows.
Seeing a Mi-24 bearing down on you with such deliberate intent is a profound expirence and an exiprence seldom survived, then add a set of eyes fixed on the target, ready to strike. Anya bowed down on her front landing gear, raising her tail end in the air and moved in between his legs. She slid her tongue up along his inner thighs allowing his package to rest momentatily on her tongue and licked all the way up his shaft until the tip of her tongue met the tip of his erection then took the whole thing in her mouth. He let his head fall back closing his eyes as she began to work magic with that tongue of hers.
“mmmh you’re good at this” Chase said leaning up and rubbing his hand on her cheek as she kept at it. He’d been with a couple cars, a battle tank, an IFV and a rather peculiar Mig-35 but there was something special about having this Soviet era warbird in his lap. This was a different level of enjoyment. “woah there, lets not end this before it ever get started. Now its my turn.” He pulled himself from her maw a string of thick airplane saliva trailing it.
“Step back” she said “lets make this more comfortable”. With a whirring of servos her rotors shifted, moving until they all pointed to her tail locking with a series of mechanic clicks. Then to Chase’s surprise, folding her wing under she rolled onto her side, exposing her tender gray underbelly.
“You know how long I’ve longed to be with a Hind” he said as he ran his fingers along her belly feeling her body admiring her unique form. Ocasionally he felt the sanded over indentation of a bullet impact. In this vulnerable position he had almost neglected to remember she was a seasoned veteran of combat the world over.
“Even before machines came to life I was in love with them, I wanted one to hold for myself, to touch, to feel, and now I’m here about to make love to one.” He came to a stop between her landing gear feeling the soft wet lips of her vagina. This was it, his dreams would come true tonight with this bird. He knelt down and could already heel the heat emminating from her and the droplets of fluid at the edges indicated she was already aroused. Slowly he closed his eyes extended his tongue, moving his face closer and closer until his tongue met the wet lips of this Hind’s pussy. He could begin to taste her as his tongue penetrated. It was glorious , he had to open his mouth to allow his tongue to enter to its fullest, closing his mouth he began to suck her tender lips, his tongue writhing about as trying to find something in the dark. He could feel Anya begin to squirm as he went down on her, making out with her nether regions. She could feel every movement his tongue made inside her sending intense bolts of pleasure through her nervous system. He then pulled out a littler and began running his tongue slowly up and down the perimeter of her opening, her fluids seeping into his mouth making him light headed as the chemicals in her fluids interacted with his physiology causing his body to vamp up the production of Ednorphins which made him slip into a state of euphoric bliss as he continued to service her. Feeling her soft synthetic tissues against his skin was increasingly arousing causing drops of pre cum to fall from him onto the wheel of her landing gear. He withdrew from her, his face covered in her lubricants, drops dripping from his chin.
“I don’t think you’re done yet” she said, grabbing his head with her tendrils tilting it to the side and forcing his face into her vagina sinking his mouth chin and nose into her. He willingly played along with her, his tongue lapping at her insides. Anya bit her lip to stop herself from yelling aloud, this was a special treat for her and knew she could get away with it because she could tell he was deep within her thralls. She released him “So how did you like that moy lyubovnik” she said as he caught his breath. He just smiled at her, his face glossed with her lubricants.
He came to his feet. He would make her pay for that and pay dearly. “Oh, you like games do you, well try this one on for size”. He took the fingers of his left hand and began massaging her clit immediately rendering her incapable of saying anything further as she groaned with pleasure. He took his other hand and began rubbing it up and down the opening of her dripping wet pussy. “what about this” he said as he grasped her clit between his palm and fingers rubbing it vigorously. She wasn’t able to hold it after this and let out a deep moan of pleasure, fearing someone might hear her she quickly stifled herself gritting her teeth together. Now, Satisfied with his work he decided it was time for the good part.
Removing his hand from her clit he fed both hands into her slit and began massaging both sides “Anya, are you ready to get this started”. With a smile she nodded. Using both hands he spread her lips apart and placed his dick in the opening then let the sides go letting them slap together on it. He put one foot on the wheel of her bottom landing gear and grasped the bar of opposing landing gear for support.
Slowly he pushed himself deep inside her until his waist squished against her pussy, feeling the warmth of her wrapped around him was like nothing he had ever felt before. He moved in and out of her with such ease. Slowly pulling half way out then going as deep as he could, repeating the process over and over, going gently on her. Using his free hand he started playing with her clit and again she began to moan and squirm “Well, Hinds do have a weak spot” he though to himself.
He was amazed by her level of resistance, any normal girl would have came by now, even a machine. Thinking about it he was surprised he hadn’t yet either, so far the sex with her had been heads above the rest. Female machines had a unique aspect to their reproductive organs. The inside of the vagina was laced with millions of adaptive nerve dendrites that would provide her the same amount of stimulation from Chace’s human genetile as that of a girthy T-90 tank.
“Are you going to play around all night or are you actually going to fuck me” she said beckoning for more “Trust me you cant hurt me, do your worst”. Chase accepted her challenge and kicked it into high gear “As you wish my dear”. Thrusting as hard as he could into this gunship his waist slapped against her underbelly, drops of sweat rolling down his back as he proceeded to make love to her with an intensity she had never expirenced from a human before. He used every but of strength he had to give her exactly what she wanted and was satisfied to gear her moans of pleasure echo through the empty hanger. Her tendrils embraced him holding him tightly to her body one running its manipulator “fingers” through his hair.
He didn’t want this sensation to end but he could feel the climax coming so he slowed his thrusts hoping to delay the inevidible. His grip in her landing gear tightened as the tremors of the climax began to shoot through him. “Chase don’t fight it, cum in me”. The both of them could feel this climax coming, Chase had no idea how but somehow he could tell as if he could feel what she was feeling. As he felt the climax arrive he felt something new something he hadn’t felt with any other machine or human he had been with. The feeling was like nothing he could describe. It seemed to spread across his entire body occupying every fiber of his being. He wondered if this was the bond that he’d heard of. It had to be, nothing else could explain how he felt in this moment. He could already feel somehow connected to her and a desire to be intertwined with her forever. His body quivered as he deposited his entire load inside her. He could feel her airframe shake as she to felt the intensity of the orgasm they seemed to be having together. Unlike him she knew what this meant, the two would be bonded, the touch of another would never feel the same, they would long for eachother every second of the day. This would make their seperation unbearable but it also meant she had finally met someone compatable with her, what humans would call a solemate.
Chase could hardly stand, his head still clouded with euphoria, her fluids slowly rolling down his legs as they separated “was that…” he said running out of breath half way through.
“Yes, I believe it was moya dorogaya”
“What does that mean”
“That we were made for each other”
It took him a minute to process this. She released him from her grasp “So did you enjoy that” she said moving back onto her landing gear and turning to face him once again.
“Any, there aren’t words in either of our languages to describe what I just felt” He said walking to her face and placing a kiss on the glass of her cockpit.
“So the real question is are you ready for round two” She certainly was relentless.
After two hours, three climaxes and every ounce of energy between the two they fell asleep on a mattress Chase had stolen from a crew ready room.
Chase awoke to the roar of a flight of Migs taking off on the runway just outside, while the early morning sun bathed the inside of the hangar in bright light. Anya had fallen asleep with her chin resting on his chest. He couldn’t bear waking her so he just watched her sleep, glad last night hadn’t been just a dream.
He heard the hangar door begin to slide open sending panic through him and rousing Anya from her sleep. What would someone say if they walked in on him laying naked with the Hind. He was relieved when he saw the angular hull of a BRDM 2 roll through the door.
“Good morning Vadik” Anya said as he closed the large door behind him.
“Anya” he said a sense of urgency in his voice “your aircrew just came through the gate, we’ll have to get him out of here before they get here which is about 15 minutes.”
“Looks like theres no time for a long goodbye” she said to Chase as she moved off him “I hope this isn’t the last time we’ll see eachother” there seemed to be a hint of a question at the end of her sentence.
“I’m going to visit you every chance I get” Chase said redressing himself and wiping away the remnants of their love making.
“I hate to break you two up” Vadik butted in “but we have to find a way to get him out of here. They’re doing the checks at the gate both in and out because of the parade. We’ve been having officers and state officials arriving all morning so security is tight.”
Vadik and Anya stared at Chase trying to create a plan on how to smuggle him out.
“you know who he looks like…” Anya said.
“don’t even think it” Vadik replied.
“admit It he looks just like him”
“What are you two talking about” Chase said a little confused.
“Anya thinks you could pass off as Minister Milonovich, but bad idea, very bad idea.”Vadic said.
“Well its either that or have him go to the gate guard and say” she switched to a sarcastic accented english “Good morning comrade gate guard. I just snuck onto your airbase to have a booty call with one of your helicopters. Would you be so kind as to let me out.”
“Anya, you’re lucky you’re my favorite. Alright Chase grab that vodka bottle, get in, put your collar up and don’t say anything.” Vadik said turning to Chase “Try to act hungover. Minister Milonovich is known for being a drinker.”
“I guess I’ll see you at the parade today” Chase said looking to Anya.
“I’ll be watching for you. After the show I’ll be doing display again come see me then” Anya said. Chase could tell she didn’t want to part but then again neither did he.
They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment “A kiss for good luck”
“knock em’ dead Anya” He said then giving her a lingering kiss before being broken up by Vadik. “Alright you two we have to go”. Chase reluctantly got in and they exited the hangar.
They approached the exit gate which was manned by a different guard than the night before “Now where are you going” the burly guard asked as they approached.
“Red square, I have a discrete VIP”
“See for yourself”
The guard slung his AK and crawled up, peering in the crew area. Chase was propped up against the side, appearing to be asleep with the bottle of vodka in his lap. The guard was surprised at who he thought he saw but not surprised as to why he would chose a more discrete mode of transportation such as this “Alright carry on”
The heavy metal gate screeched open and they exited.
“Thanks for everything Vadik” Chase said sitting up straight in the seat. “you seem to be a sort of care taker for her”
“I take care of all the living aircraft at Kubinka. Anya can be impulsive from time to time so I have to help her out with things sometimes. She’s still my favorite though.”
“Have you and her ever…you know…”
“Once or twice, We all have needs”
They stopped a few blocks from red square where he was to meet Leonid in a hour “I doubt this is the last time we’ll be seeing eachother so until next time dosvidaniya”
Chase gave him a nod as he departed, Anya still on his mind.
Tankmorph story: (please note this story came from a text RP )
[9/14/14, 3:09:44 PM] R: In the crowds today was a particular enthusiast- of course at tank fest there are nothing But enthusiasts but this one is different. The event lasts for 3 days and at it are displays of many WWII tanker reenactments including their machines, their weapons, and the troops of that old time. It was a celebration of old technology and a way to remember not to repeat the past (even though humans eventually did repeat all of their mistakes) . everyone was here for the tanks, but since the world had be irrevocably changed, the tanks were now alive. All the old analogue armors had modern technology installed by other humans and tanks and became a working living display for all of those who had money to spend. As this was a time 20 years after the advent of machine kind, the children of these unions were also present- morphs of all kinds but mainly tankmorphs. One morph person in particular was being stalked in the crowd. His name was “vernon” and he was the product of the union between a panzer 38 t and a human.
[9/14/14, 3:10:28 PM] R: ;she didn’t have to move much to stalk him, the morph people very easily towered over the crowds like old style anime robots.;
[9/14/14, 3:18:51 PM] R: ;she noticed his “aft” at first. The machine folk were funny like this- they still adhered to words that described vehicles even though they insisted on being treated like humans next door. Either way, her loins ached around these ‘things” these.. “people”. Born after the advent of their kind, she never remembered the world the way it used to be. it seemed as if the vehicles always talked and always worked, lived, and had families alongside people. She longed for such a situation for herself but was so shy in person that all attempts made to even say ‘hi” to a truck or a boat was met with butterflies in the stomach and sweaty hands;; Today would be different however, she wasn’t getting any younger and she HAD to touch a machine.. even if it happened by force.
[9/14/14, 3:22:53 PM] Ras: Although unbeknownst to her, her efforts to follow this one particular morph did not go unnoticed. He was often one of the smaller of the morphs around, and thus got it’s own brand of attention…but she was different. She didn’t look at him with an odd eye comparing him to others. She just…seemed interested in him. Admittedly, he wasn’t too much of a heavy handed or strong willed tank, and had problems talking to well…anyone really. Immediately anyways. Thus he always took notice when someone seemed interested rather than judgmental. He had the job at the fair of getting the crowd riled up. And every time he’d look after raising his hands and cheering for the crowd to join…he’d see her, occasionally catching a blush. Eventually he began to look for her in the crowd as he went along, firing a blank once or twice to ensure it wasn’t known he was eying her back…there was also a bit of a…smell in the air.
[9/14/14, 3:30:45 PM] R: ;;as time past, the crowd shifted from several corners of the museum park to the bleachers and back again to the inside museum where manny of the real WWII and WWI tanks signed autographs and let people touch them. The event was mostly for the older folks who remembered the world the way it used to be. but the rest of the fans ? war and war tech people- some of which like her- were looking to get a date with the attractions. out of the corner of her eye she spied a guy in his 30’s passing a business card to a hellcat.. it sounded like they were going to get a private tour after the show. “that’s hot.” the predators thought to herself. then she serious up and focused back on the grey angular hide of the crowd pleasing cajoling tank some of the aficionados called “vernon” ;;licks lips;; “wonder whats under that cloth…” ;;she angled her body around bumping into people shoulder to shoulder trying to spy an up skirt shot.
[9/14/14, 3:31:11 PM] R: ;;the event would be closed soon.. maybe its time to scout out a spot…;;
[9/14/14, 3:35:57 PM] Ras: Although she missed her original chance, just catching a glimpse of gray swaying beneath it as the tanks were guided inside. Granted Vernin didn’t have the honor of signing, after all he was a morph, and not an “original machine”. Instead he was helping a crowd line up to a female Char B1 offering signatures who was said to be the wife of the owner of the entire event. Of course it does give a better opportunity for our Predator to get closer…but damn…he’s still behind a line. Just more darn teasing… The line apparently put there to ensure children visiting the event don’t get an eyeful on accident. Although Vernin sniffs the air…there’s that smell again…almost immediately he begins to look around for the source as the larger tank seems to giggle and pet his back, talking in a thick french accent just out of our predators earshot. A notable blush on Vernin’s gray hide as she finishes and returns to signing~
[9/14/14, 3:44:35 PM] R: ;;6;30 pm rolls around (pun intended) and the regular shows are over. the crowds dissipate back to their transportation and hotel rooms for the next days events. the curators secure everything not tied down and tanks not slated for OT giving VIP tours clocked out and headed back to their homes. The female Charb1 and husband stayed around but nearly all of the morphs left for the night- or to the local pub for a pint of 12. the “predator’ knew that dire machines and their morph children possessed sensory abilities beyond humans. it would not be easy to stalk this tank and so she did what she could to mask her scent with perfumes. (perfumes don’t masque pheromones however- she would come to learn this later) ;;behind the dumpster of the museum cafeteria she waited hungrily next to a parking lot ;;
[9/14/14, 3:49:29 PM] Ras: Knowing she’d heard the tank she’d targeted talking about heading to a nearby brewery in that direction…and sure enough he heads out a nearby door…although that scent catches his senses…the Char had told him SOMEBODY had the hots for him…but how could that be. He’d NEVER been as popular as the rest. Despite his tanks numerousness, there weren’t many morphs, and his smaller size just…well off that he found himself almost mindlessly following that scent. Something about it just getting to him. Granted there’s something worse over it but..easily enough ignored…although it is tenting his loincloth. His member hardening as he wined and felt it dragging on that darn cloth..his mind a little fogged as he wound up next to the dumpster, whimpering a little as his member was quite hard.
[9/14/14, 3:55:46 PM] R: “oh shit”;; she thought to herself and cowered behind the can just barely out of his field of view. “he’s here! heres here!” ;;her hands instantly perspired and she had trouble swallowing. Her heart pounded and she gave off an even thicker invisible stink then she normally would have. “is the jig up?” ;;she thoughts to herself. it was time to make a critical decision, 1. get everything you’ve been fantasizing about since you hit puberty with the risk of spending the night in jail. B. get rejected. ;;”she should do the smart thing– the right th– oh god.. I’m so wet down there.”. ;;she cringed;;
[9/14/14, 4:02:16 PM] Ras: And right when she thinks of running without looking back..she hears a whimper…a loud soft whimper as she finally looks up…He’s rock hard, whining and squirming a bit uncomfortably as he shiftily moves, seemingly sniffing the air as he seems confused how to react. His cock is just ACHING but he can’t see anything around… Not that it’s easy to take a close look.
[9/14/14, 4:03:57 PM] Ras: Not with his member aching and throbbing like this.
[9/14/14, 4:08:56 PM] R: ;;suddenly a dark figure leaps out from behind the bin. she holds her arms to the side as if to insist that she is armed and dangerous but she is looking down. When she looks up even your own superior tank vision can make out the features of a woman in this darkness. not just any woman- the woman who was in the crowd earlier smiling at you and moving about you. She had a really serious look on her face and he wasn’t sure if this was anger or a robbery or what? “back against the wall!” she demanded and shifted her head from side to side quickly hopping not to make a ruckus. she spies the huge tent you’ve pitched in your loincloth and she stutters for a bit and swallows hard. “D-Didnt you hear me?! B-b-back against the wall tank!”
[9/14/14, 4:09:38 PM] R: ;the trail of delicious female excitement- the scent you followed earlier it was coming from her.. by God it was coming from her;
[9/14/14, 4:16:43 PM] Ras: Her speech just bounced off him at first…it didn’t mean much…but…nnngh…he could SMELL she was hot…In fact just taking a deep breath with her in vision made him groan loudly….backing to the wall just to…to keep smelling that wonderful scent as he whimpered, cock sticking out proudly in her view as his movements causes the loincloth to slip off it. Proud, throbbing cock just aching in the air as she might be shocked that he actually followed her command. “W…what now?” he whined, quivering. Not wanting to frighten her off.
[9/14/14, 4:25:41 PM] R: ;her speech was stolen away from herself and she gasped. looking at his huge frame submit to her demand and the cloth slipping away revealing a huge fat steely machine cock- Its was just as big and wonderful as she had pictured it to be in her mind. “F-Fuck..” ;;she uttered;; and closed her eyes for a second. when she opened them back up, she took a deep breath and relaxed pulling her other hand out of her pocket and approaching the large morph machine towering over her; “Don’t move! this is a stick-up….” ;she said not even stopping to wonder if that was just some clechet 1970’s robbery film dialogue she had lifted somewhere; . Time seemed to slow down for this ‘predator’ who found her palms pressed against the thigh armor of this huge humanoid vehicle. she could feel all of his little indentations and scratches, his faux rivets and his faux panels. above all- he was warm.. warm and wonderful just like herself. The tip of his penis hang throbbing before her, all she could think about is pressing both her hands against the base of it and pulling it into her mouth. dribbling silver precum and all. ;;her head pushing forward to take more of his length inside of the wet inviting chasm of her mouth.
[9/14/14, 4:26:12 PM] R: ;;her eyes close and she taste his coppery metallic pre while flicking her tongue around hi ridges completely lost in the act;
[9/14/14, 4:28:10 PM] Ras: And, in shock, the larger tank creature moaned out, gasping as he put his hands to the building…it was his first time feeling anything like this…this strange human, as weird as she was acting, was so…so good…her mouth warm and wet to his member tip as he growled and slowly fought bucking into her face…tormentingly whimpering to himself as she slid her mouth around as much as she good. His thick silvery seed gently pumping into her mouth as he whined “Ooooohhhh…” He grunted, finally giving in and giving a little “pathetic” hump.
[9/14/14, 4:36:59 PM] R: “ohmmn..mmm” she moaned into his member and her tongue flicked and her mouth sucked- tasting all of his thick metallic essence. He seemed to throb and trickle fat pearls of precum even harder into her mouth as she gently glide his aroused steel back and forth between her lips;; ;feeling him buck slightly she reached up behind his heavy leg and pulled him into her face. the other hand reached back to unzip her leather jacket revealing a pair of (what humans refer to as C-cups) soft and hanging free. “No underwear?!” vernon may have thought..
[9/14/14, 4:38:13 PM] R: ;she muttered to herself taking a breath; “you taste just how i thought you’d taste.. ” ;;and she dived back in for more. her chin dripping with your machine seed.;;
[9/14/14, 4:42:26 PM] Ras: A brief thought in any case, not that it mattered much at this point…he was feeling amazing as he smiled absent minded and arched, letting her pull his groin further into her mouth as he groaned softly “Y…yes…..yeeesss…” He muttered to himself…barely able to hear her as he stroked her head, groaning and bucking…loving every moment of it, but he KNEW there’s more he can have, and the more he’s teased like this, the harder it gets for him to fight the urges…starting to mumble pleasurably to himself as he bucked “Y…yes…ooooh you’re w…warm…I…I…” he groaned…feeling it building up, but he fights it as he slowly puts his hand on her head…surprising her perhaps as he gently pries her off his member…i..is the jig up…after all this is it u-he then surprises her…slowly putting hands on the dumpster as he put himself behind her…lining himself up as he groaned softly, stroking her side “S…slide on…” He moaned
[9/14/14, 5:02:09 PM] R: ;she hadn’t anticipated how “high” she would get off of the sheer amount of nano machines this Tank would produce. (Perhaps this machine was a virgin?) Her senses felt dulled, and she was in the most relaxed state that she had ever been since she woke up this morning in her cheap motel 10 miles out of the way. His heavy hand was just on her head pressed against her wavy hair before it had momentarily released and his wonderful thick machine hood had left her mouth. “w-why..?” ;;she whimpered smacking her lips with the thick silvery pre dripping off her chin. ;he took her wrists into his hands. they felt intensely strong- strong enough to easily break bones and cause a crushing, bleeding mess, yet so gentle.. putting her hands palm down on the dumpster and hiking her upper body atop its lid. “Wait machine- ” ;;she slipped her denim jeans down her hips revealing that she had not been wearing panties either. her slightly pudgy build had only served to make this tank’s cock even harder too. The 2 creamy curves of her ass, her pink inner thighs with female juices trickling down the underside, and her soft human vagina now red and swollen with blood ready for him. she head his moaning words “s-slide on..” and could not wait for his moaning to end. “can this be happening?” ;she thought; “Fuck me machine! fuck me tank!” ;;she grabbed his impossibly thick tip into her hand and guided him towards her boiling hot opening just aching for him to push himself in. “Fuck me tank! do it.”
[9/14/14, 5:09:40 PM] Ras: And he growled out, he was indeed a virgin…much to his embarassement. Well WAS a virgin. At this point it was moot to call him that as he grabbed her sides and started to slide in “NN…Nnnnn…tiiiight!” He growled out as he slid in…more and more…his member bending, writhing inhumanly to fit ALL of it into her. Pushing deeper than she’d ever felt anything go as he growled and hilted himself, shuddering above him…his strong, warm frame pushing to hers as he slowly pulled out, panting hard before giving another buck. This was it. Neither was getting out of it now. He wanted to cum. He NEEDED to cum inside her. His hips spurring into a life of their own as he began to hump and buck against her bodyt.
[9/14/14, 5:19:37 PM] R: She had to breathe deep and hiss, breathe deep and hiss in huge chokeing gasps of air. His size was so big she could hardly get used it and it stretched her wide till his wonderful textures- the ridges in his cock mushroomed out to kiss her swollen clit at his cockbase. Some of his size was painful but wonderful, the rest of it was instantly everything that she had needed from the time she booked the trip to the UK. ;;she moaned; “Oh God tank, i wanted this.. i wanted this.” ;she pressed her hips against you trying to fit as much of your intense machine arousal as she could inside herself. “yes my tank, fuck me, fuck me hard. cum inside me.. i need it.” ;she moaned in the most gorgeous feminine voice you think you’ve ever heard in your life. . each thrust inside was met with a tightening of muscles, muscles clenching around your swollen aching machine cock. :lips and clitoris and muscles licking, lapping, and squeezing your cock till your own eyes roll back into your head. ;her hands gripping at your hips told you everything you needed to know about this ‘rapeist criminal.” and it made you feel warm and happy inside. This was better then any pub..
[9/14/14, 5:20:39 PM] R: ;;you could just smell her juices mixing with your pre and dripping down the side of the dumpster. hitting the ground like lead.;;
[9/14/14, 5:21:04 PM] R: ;;she licks her silver pre-stained lips;; “fill me up my tank. oh God.”
[9/14/14, 5:27:53 PM] Ras: Each wonderful thrust sending me into shudders of pleasure as I grip her hips and grinned, leaning down as I nuzzled her head…licking and turning her head “As you say…human…” I say, mimicking her own little speaking of me as a “tank” as I growled and pulled back. Ensuring my next thrust is nice and filling as I growled and felt another heavy spurt of my nanite laced cum spraying into her…making me wince in pleasure as I felt it spraying through my cock, so welcome to feel as our juices kept mixing as I bucked “Nnnngh…so wonderfully tight…” I let out, grunting as that smell just kept me so wonderfully intoxicated as I stroked along her body, basking in how smooth and soft it is, how shapely it was…why hadn’t this human “attacked” me sooner? I just growl, arching and letting out a loud groan as I fired a blank off into the air, shoving in deep as I began to spray my first non virgin load deeply into her. T he nanites flooding her system, filling her so heavily as I shuddered and bucked to ensure I got all of it into her…every last drop~
[9/14/14, 5:41:09 PM] R: ;the woman before you milking out the thick iron-rich seed clenched and shuddered in a half scream. noticeable was how wonderfully your tip flared just before you burst forth and sprayed hot machine cum into her deepest nooks and cranes. “Oh god tank! its so fucking warm! ;;her nipples grew hard as a rock and she pulled your hard iron hands over to cup and rub them while biting her lip;; “god yes, so much cum- I-I-.. ;;she thought to herself before becoming extremely high from the nannies. “God its so deep in me i’ll never get it all out!” ;;she licked her lips and shed a tear bucking back onto your throbbing member as you rode out the pleasure of your first intense orgasm. It seemed to just last and last almost a minute as she pumped her ass against your fat tank rail agin and again and again till it almost hurt, trying desperately to get every last drop from you.
[9/14/14, 5:41:25 PM] R: ;;soft human titsl slapped against your cupping hands;;
[9/14/14, 5:42:17 PM] R: ;;it was so hot and stinking and wet between both of you.. fat ropes of cum blasting out until you created a nice little seal to hold all of your heavy seed inside of her;
[9/14/14, 5:43:16 PM] R: ;;soft little fingers snaking up the sides of your quivering hips to caress you;; as if to say ‘that was wonderful tank. that was wonderful..”
[9/14/14, 5:45:12 PM] Ras: And I just groaned at her touch, panting hard as I start to come down, panting heavily as my cock throbbed, content to stay burried inside as I grinned, using my loincloth to keep her warm in the colder alley as I slowly leaned my back to the wall. Leaving her impaled on my cock as I slowly st5roked her body, licking her cheeks and churring “It’s Vernin by the way, human…what about you?”
[9/14/14, 5:47:04 PM] R: “Mercy” .. ;;she panted savoring every last inch of you and the pool of hot goo forming between the two of you;;
[9/14/14, 5:48:19 PM] R: “I needed a machine.. a tank.. i.. ;;she felt a tiny bit embarrassed.:; I needed something not human.. ”
[9/14/14, 5:48:41 PM] R: ‘I needed you.. ;she pressed her face against the cold sweaty dumpster;;
[9/14/14, 5:50:28 PM] Ras: And he grinned, slowly pulling her away “Then don’t worry about that cold metal there…there’s plenty of warmth here…” I churr…sighing as that scent was just amazing coming off her…so sating, like I’d finally had everything I could ever need sated all at once…smiling as I slowly pulled her into a kiss, spinning her in place on my member to hug her to me…just a human and tank, making out nude in an alley.
[9/14/14, 5:53:54 PM] R: ;you could see the one tiny tear roll from her right eye and she wrapped your strange turret face in her arms (slightly tilted away from your cannon and gun) and pulled your tongue into her mouth. ;;you could taste a little bit of your own pre on her lip- but you didn’t care. this was wonderful;;
Behold! A Russian knight! Doing sexy sky tricks!
So far Life at school in a medical setting is completely unlike what I was used to in the community college setting, The atmosphere is completely different and they make you accountable for every last minute you miss of lecture time. This week I got my quarterly review, and while my grades AND attendance are at a solid 100% and 90%, They are telling me I have 5 make-ups to do. 5? wtf man! maybe ONE, but not 5. I’m also fairly nervous that me and 5 other students are not getting the valuable public experience needed to do this job effectively. We aren’t going to get out clinical sites until next semester, and I am likely going to be thrown into the fire while desperately trying to get 6 comps before December. The days are long and the expectations are high, Only time will tell weather or not I should have stuck with art or not. In the meantime, i ran a rather successful art Live steam of me toning the SR-71. In fact it was so successful (even at 12 midnight on a Friday night) it crashed the internet in the house and the ISP was wondering if we were running a server. This also means that I probably cannot do live streaming again until the internet gets upgraded, but I thank everyone who came to see and chill with me for the event (27 people!). When I ran out of things to draw, I took a request from the audience and from the Skype voice call we had going. Hilarity ensued! example: Weekend was fucking spectacular, I got invited to a “new job” celebration party with part of the BAY Area fur art group and ate pork ribs and potato salad till I lay on the couch in front of people playing Mario kart 8 ready to explode. Went home and banged out part of a new commission that I will put up on Tuesday night. Also wanted to share with you an article regarding BAE systems creating smart sensory skin for aircraft and other machines that you can read here: http://www.bbc.com/news/technology-28881748 in some way this is the BEGINNING of mecha dendrite technology- machines being able to feel in some way. Pretty cool article.
New living-machine artist spotlight:
http://www.furaffinity.net/user/amethystlongcat/ Amethystlongcat (I love you!! ;;kisses you over skype;;)
http://pkd-airline.deviantart.com/ PKD airline. (I hope one day she draws porn..oh my god.)
http://amberchrome.deviantart.com/ Amberchrome (Defiantly explores machine x human but in a strictly platonic sort of way)
http://goldenhorizons.deviantart.com/ GoldenHorizons (Really nice colored pencil living machine art)
http://ikarus-001.deviantart.com/ ikarus-100 (Yes I am being an asshole posting this link, but she dissevers to be watched.)
http://robotoseckshau5.tumblr.com/ Rakihiro (female robots)
http://snowkitt.deviantart.com/ (best anthro cars ive seen yet)
**I Am selling originals of my porn you can find here: http://www.titanatelier.com/hentai/original/ 20$ per original and 10$ shipping. PM me if interested. **
Char and Alex A-10 are Gone*
Piper archer alpha (on hold)
Grace pic is gone*
Human x f22 is gone*
Bulldog is gone*
Blade/maru/oc is gone*
Lost virginity in the dark is gone*
Chopper oral is gone*
A-10 is gone*
Berkut is gone*
Hind is gone*
Leopard II is gone*
Mihkaev is gone*
all tank morph drawings are gone*
Kamov redo 2 (does not exsist)
New Machine x human fic by: Delta X3 http://www.furaffinity.net/view/14278292/
This story is owed to ratbat who inspired it, I just had the pleasure of writing it. So thank you again Ratbat.
This is my first contribution to the site so tell me what you think.
Her first time experiencing the “bond” between
man (woman) and machine.
2nd Lieutenant Erin Welsch sat listening intensely in the briefing room. She had just finished flight school a few months or so before but with things the way they were in the world she was sent straight to her first squadron at Osan Air Base, South Korea. She was a slender girl and rather attractive according to others but she wasn’t convinced. Her hair was done up in the regulation bun and she wore the standard Air Force camouflage utilities which she thought looked terrible.
Across the tarmac, watching a live feed of the brief on a TV in his hangar sat Max a living F-117 Nighthawk stealth bomber.
In mid 2019 something happened which neither modern science or religion could explain. All around the world without reason or warning machines were coming to life. All the things that made humans human, thought, reasoning, emotion, spirit were being displayed by machines all over. Not all but many had simply gained life.
It took years for humans to come to terms with this and years more to accept Dire Machines as they were called as living sentient beings. Eventually they became members of society, a common place thing even developing relations with one another. Even a human being in a relation with a Dire machine had began to lose its taboo.
Max and Erin had done well in flight school, as a team they had even managed to make their way to the top of the class. They had made many successful flights together but the thought of their first actual mission over a combat zone rattled them both.
Max himself was a Lockheed F-117 Nighthawk stealth attack aircraft and fortunately one of the machines selected by fate as a Dire Machines. Because of this advantage him and his fellow F-117s of his new squadron had been pulled from retirement to serve once again. His body was made up of smooth mat black stealth surfaces arranged in sharp angled geometric patterns. Dire machines could bend and modify their forms slightly and had a little flexibility but for the most part maintained their shape. By human terms he was about 23 but his model was much older. Dire Machines to were subject to mortality and would suffer the strain of age as a human.
Both Max and Erin listened intently to the brief being given by the squadrons commanding officer Lieutenant Colonel Laura Harding, a stern woman who had been hardened by her years of service. The brief, as most pre-op briefs covered the who, what, where, when, whys and hows of the mission to come.
“Any questions” Col. Harding asked looking from pilot to pilot then over to the monitors displaying the web cams for the planes. “Alright nobody?… Well silence is consent. You all know where to be, saddled and ready by 0200.” She turned to Erin “Lieutenant Welsch I need to see you after this in my office.”
“Yes Ma’am” Erin replied.
Erin waited until everyone had shuffled out then made her way to the commanding officer’s office. She knocked on the Colonel’s door. “come in“ the Colonel replied. She made her way in and sharply reported in “Good afternoon ma’am. Lieutenant Welsch reporting as ordered.”
“At ease, sit down and relax.” While stern and strict while on front of her unit, during one on one she was fairly laxed. “This your first mission Harding said as Erin took a seat in front of her desk.
“Yes ma’am” Erin replied.
“How do you feel” Colonel Harding continued.
“Good ma’am, a little nervous but exited”
“Don’t worry, you’ve done this a dozen times in training. Just stick to what you were taught and you’ll do just fine. How about Max?”
“He seems pretty excited ma’am”
“Good” Colonel Harding replied leaning in and looking Erin directly in the eyes. “The reason I wanted to see you… are you and max still an effective team, in sync with one another. The pilot-plane relation is the most important aspect of the Dire Machine units, the only reason the Department of Defense has pulled older models out of retirement.” Colonel Harding paused exhaling as she decided how she was going to say this next part. “Have you and max made the Bond”
The “Bond”, when two Dire Machines made love with one another a sort of bond is created increasing their awareness of each other and making them more in tune. Oddly this trait is also shared when a Dire Machine has sex with a human. Often this link is considered invaluable and a distinct edge to race car drivers, vehicle commanders and especially pilots as it greatly increased the interface and reaction time of both the plane and it’s pilot.
Erin had known she would more likely than not eventually have to “Have sex” with her aircraft. She had almost known this from the start because it was basically expected when one volunteered for a Dire unit. Its not like she didn’t like max, he was the greatest guy she had ever known. He had everything that would make a perfect boyfriend, he was kind, courteous, friendly and an all around good person but she was still not sure about making love to a machine, it had seemed cool when she volunteered but now she was uncertain. She had never told this to max and to her relief the topic hadn’t come up between them.
“No ma’am” she said a little embarrassed by the question.
Colonel Harding noticed her look “I must tell you absolutely nowhere does it say you are required to do anything with your aircraft” she said reassuring Erin “However” She continued “I will tell you that there are many benefits to being bonded. There are few pilots that have gotten you marks in training without already having bonded. I can’t even imagine the team you two would make bonded together.” Colonel Harding stood “that being said I have nothing else for you. Get some rest and be ready for tomorrow. Dismissed.” Erin got up and began to walk out “Think about what I said”.
Erin walked back to the hanger where max would be waiting, the idea from the conversation with the colonel still festering in her mind. Her and Max would have to have the talk, the talk she had been putting off and dodging for a long time.
She walked in the hangar where the both of them lived, not aware just how much her body language gave away how distraught she was.
“Whats wrong” max said as the door shut behind her, turning on his landing gear to face her. She looked at the large plane, his eyes a vibrant blue against his matte black body.
“The colonel brought up the bond” she said avoiding eye contact.
“You want to talk about it” he said patiently.
“I’ve been really trying to avoid this conversation.” She said hesitantly, hoping he wouldn’t be offended.
“I know” he replied “I figured you would talk about it when you were ready.”
‘Damn him for being so understanding’ she thought to herself. He was the perfect guy which made this even harder.
“I mean I’m not sure.” She started “As far as flying we’re the best and you” she paused “you’re the greatest guy anyone could ask for.” suddenly she ran out of words.
He moved closer until he was only feet from her face and extended one of his mechanical tendrils with a manipulator claw on it and gently placed it on her cheek. She shuddered as it touched her skin, not because it was cold or frightening but something she couldn’t yet explain.
“I will never pressure you” he said softly rubbing her cheek.
She could feel her heart start racing as she stared into the jet’s deep blue eyes. She could feel something different, something new. A passion for not necessarily for the jet but for Max, the fact that he was a machine seemed to matter less and less. She reached out and placed her hand on his fuselage. “Oh max, how could anyone resist you.” Her smile said everything.
More tendrils joined in and began unbuttoning her blouse then pulled her undershirt over her head, allowing the discarded garments to fall to the floor. She felt a breeze across her soft white skin sending a chill down her spine. His tendrils continued at her trousers and boots until he could remove them. Finally he undid her hair running the smooth strands between his manipulators.
She stood there in all her bare skinned glory bearing nothing but her matching black lace bra and panties. The hangar was heated to a comfortable 72 degrees Fahrenheit but for some reason it had never felt colder.
Max moved back so he could examine her. “My knowledge of what humans consider beauty is limited, but to me I have never seen a more beautiful being.”
This made her blush. He came close again and extended two tendrils around her back and unclasped her bra allowing her supple breasts to fall free. Max smiled as he did this. He then proceeded to strip her of her panties leaving her completely completely naked, timidly trying to cover herself. She then felt an array of warm mechanical tendrils surround and embrace her and for some reason she no longer felt naked.
“I can assure you Erin we will both enjoy this. I’ve been told the sensation between humans and machines has no parallel.” he said as he gently lifted her off her feet and into a laid back position right below his nose.
“I cant tell out how long I’ve waited for this. Since the first time we flew I had lusted for you and now we’re finally together.”
Slowly he opened his mouth and placed his big airplane tongue against the lips of her vagina, sensually tasting her. She could feel the warm saliva covered tongue of her Nighthawk playing with her. A warm pleasure spread through her body as it’s tip entered her ever so slightly, writhing and moving about.
Once the bomber was satisfied she was properly warmed up he moved her further down his body into two larger arms which he used to load his bomb bay. In flight his underbelly was hard as metal but when not he chose a much softer more malleable consistency.
She had felt her planes underbelly before while Washing Max but she had never had her entire naked form pressed up against it. She felt small tendrils squirm up her body and start feeling up her tits, squeezing, mashing and playing with them while another was creeping along her inner thigh until it found its target. Her body went ridged as the small manipulator at the end of the tendril began playing with her clit in every way imaginable, it was paralyzing ecstasy. She let out a small moan as the sensation swept over her. “I’m glad you like that.” Max said grinning as even more tendrils joined in beginning to feel up her luscious behind. It wasn’t until he stopped playing with her clit that she noticed another larger thicker appendage that lay across her waist and stomach. It was wet, hot and hard. Its surface covered in a smooth slick ribbed material. She could feel it throbbing against her skin, warm per-cum oozing from the tip onto her belly.
As soon as he was ready he positioned the lips of her vagina in front of the tip of his raging airplane erection and paused “I want you to want this” he said “and all you have to do is let go.”
With that, he began to slowly move the head inside her warm and wet pussy. Erin could count on one hand all the times she’d made love in her life and wasn’t sure she was ready to take something like a F-117 but this wasn’t going to stop max now. He could feel her pussy stretching to accommodate the head of his dick. He wasn’t sure she was going to be able to accept his girth and began questioning whether he should carry through with it but was pleased when the ridge of his head crossed the threshold. He continued to slowly insert.
She let out a small whimper as her pussy stretched as it never had before. She could hear the plane breathing heavily through its intake manifolds, his chest rising and falling as if he actually had lungs and it may have just been hers but if she concentrated she could swear she almost felt a heartbeat deep within his massive airframe.
Max held her tightly against his belly, her breasts pancaked against his body and her legs spread wide as he continued to slowly insert his engorged airplane cock, each rib of his long shaft sending an intense spasm of pleasure through her small frail form. He continued sliding his cock deeper and deeper until his tip poked the small knot of tissue. She squealed with pain, she had never imagined she could fit something like this.
“Don’t worry the first time always hurts little but it’ll get better” he reassured her.
He slowly began to withdraw from her until just the tip remained in her pussy. “The hard part is over, now just lay back, relax and enjoy the sensation.” He once again slid himself deep into her, paused, withdrew, inserted and so on. Her breath grew heavy and let out a moan with each repetition, his perfectly formed airplane member hitting her G-spot every time. She couldn’t control the occasional spasm of pleasure as unknown to her, his cock had begun emitting a faint electrical field, stimulating every nerve cluster inside her vagina, a part of the bonding process.
They continued making love, the deep thrusts, the heavy moaning and grunting, her sweat soaked body sliding against his in this erotic ballet.
As the bond finally took hold of the two whey could feel the climax coming. His thrusts became deeper and more intense, her moans of ecstasy became louder until the both reached apex at the same moment.
Hot thick airplane cum flowed from his dick deep into her, filling every crevasse until there was none left and it began flowing out around his dick, dripping onto the concrete floor of the hangar. He hadn’t came in so long his reservoir tanks were brimming with the stuff. Afraid of harming her by depositing his entire load inside her he removed his erection. It slid out with a wet pop and began squirting copious amounts of cum across her stomach and chest while the excess began to flow from her vagina into a puddle on the floor.
They both remained as they were for a few moments enjoying the afterglow, Max taking deep breaths through his intake vents, Erin still still wrapped in his tendrils almost in a state of disbelieving euphoria of what she had just experienced. Slowly Max placed her back on her feet, the tendrils retracting. She stumbled, almost forgetting how to use her legs.
“So how was that my love” He said as she stood there still in a euphoric daze. Her mind still couldn’t fathom the words that would properly express what she had just experienced. “G-great” was all she could get out. “I- I’m going to go take a shower” she turned toward the bathroom “you need a bath max?”
“No thank you, I’m good but thanks” He courteously replied. He was curious if she would come back or just go to bed a deciding moment whether she actually enjoyed it. He waited nearly an hour and was beginning to figure that she was probably in bed when she appeared in the doorway wearing her Pj’s and holding blankets and a pillow.
“Erin” he said “I thought you had gone to bed.”
“I wanted to come sleep with you” she replied looking into his eyes and smiling slightly.
Max smiled and bowed a wing down so she could walk on. She lay down on a flat spot on his back and covered up.
“I love you Max” She said as she put down her head and fell asleep.
“I love you to Erin” he said softly “I love you to”.
New machine x human story by: 7777737373
(Keep in mind, I am not totally convinced this story is loving (It might be) but its very strange, borderline in some places.. but the writing is actually quite good. machine is a B-2 spirit)
“Yeah, you doin’ alright? I mean iss-iss been like 4 months since ya signed up for dat shit… I dunno, I was just…”
Sorin was so busy talking over the phone that he didn’t notice the timid Vietnamese woman sneak up behind him. “Excuse me-” she said.
“G-HUECK!” he exclaimed as he fumbled with his phone, which was all the more difficult as his manipulators were much larger than the phone itself. “S-sorry, lady, could you give me like one sec?” he replied as he turned back to his phone. “Yeah, hi, ya there? Look, we’ll talk later, call me after 9 or sumtin’ tomorrow, I gotta customer over here. Yeah, you know my number, I don’t know yours, because government. Okay, love ya.” He put his phone on sleep, shoved it into a corner and then turned to the young woman again. “Well, you got my attention; ya want something?”
“I just want to talk with you,” the woman said.
“Lady, I’ve seen you over here for like 10 days straight, after hours. ONLY after hours.” Sorin’s voice grew louder with each word. “Iss bedtime! Don’tcha know what bedtime means? Means GO HOME!”
“Home is here,” she replied softly, trying to hold back a tear. “Nowhere else I go.”
“Oh,” Sorin sheepishly said, his volume reverting to acceptable conversation levels. “You lost or something?”
“No. Want to be here. With you. Want to know you.”
“Okay, that’s nice and everything, but you could have done it while the place was still open. There’s like, audiobooks and e-books you could borrow. You could even ask some of them old-ass veterans about me; they probably know more about me than ME!”
“No. I do not want to know you there. I want to know the you inside you.”
“Oh. Ohh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Sorin was left with no words. As a retired B-2 Spirit that had been repurposed as an unmanned drone, he was not used to having close relationships with human civilians, especially not with women. Especially not with THIS type of woman. “Young adult, cute face, long hair, kinda dirty… MAN, those are some boobies she got on her,” Sorin thought to himself. After a few seconds, he finally mustered up the courage to say, “Well… whaddaya want?”
“Name is Michie. What about yours?”
“Well if you were paying attention to the GODDAMN SIGNS ALL OVER THE PLACE… eh, my name is Sorin. That’s it. Just Sorin. Y’know, like a bird? AH-HYEH-HYEH-HYEH okay I’ll stop. How’d you manage to stay in here after the place closed?”
“Many planes. Good hiding places. Who were you talking to on phone?”
“Oh, that’s no one important, HEH HEH HEH HEH HEH, is just, um… Okay, she’s a friend I know who used to work here, big-ass air-beast like me, but a different kind of air-beast, yanno? Used to be the only other unmanned airplane exhibit around here. Heavy transport, VTOL, goddamn heliplane. Made this museum very popular for a while. Pro’ly cuz ‘a dem titties ‘n shit. Y’know, kids love’m. The titties. Shit.”
Michie stared blankly at Sorin, confused by his mangling of English grammar.
“Anyway,” Sorin continued, “she got a new job, we said goodbye, she left! Gone to this super-secret science lab or somethin’; it’s so secret that I don’t even know the name or place, and if I did they’d just fry my brain to make me forget!” Then he added, in a sinister whisper, “Which probably means I had known about it before. Then the CIA happened. Straight outta nowhere. Please don’t talk about it anymore.”
“How long you work here?” Michie asked.
“Well, gee, I’ve been here so long, even I’ve forgotten. Probably like 42 years; you should check the website, they have more info on the exhibits.” He paused for a moment, then added, “But that was only the time when this place was a museum; I was here when they still used it to launch bombers, INTO REBEL ASSHOLES! They’re like ‘this place has rebels out the ass, go shove a bomb down their throats to shut them up!'”
“Woooowwwww,” Michie exclaimed with awe.
“I know, riveting stuff right? An’ I was like TOP BOMBER, BEST IN CLASS, MEDAL OF HONOR! (The medal, not the game.) I would go in, when it was night, and I was like “Y’can’t see me, I’m goddamn BLACK AS NIGHT!” No seriously, they LITERALLY couldn’t see me, not with radar, not with camera, not with eyes on the sky 24-7! They’d be walking around, chatting it up with their friends, ‘Hey, fellow insurgent! Nice evening to blow up some children!’ And then suddenly they’d be like ‘OH NO! IT IS US THAT IS BEING BLOWN UP! CALL MICHAEL BAY’S GHOST AND TELL HIM TO MAKE A MOVIE ABOUT US!'”
Michie giggled and stroked the edge of Sorin’s wing with her hand, while Sorin was still busy rambling about his life to notice.
“And I was there, when they were still building goddamn land expansions, on this freaking HUGE man-made island, off the coast of New York when it WASN’T scoured off the map by another GODDAMN HURRICANE! And I was there too; they wanted me to stop a bunch of goddamn riots, so I went in there, and dropped fun bombs! Y’know, the kind that don’t kill ’cause these guys are OUR GUYS! GOD BLESS AAAAAAMERICAAAAAAAAAA!!”
The walls of the museum seemed to shake as Sorin’s voice reached a crescendo. Meanwhile, Michie had somehow climbed on top of Sorin and was now riding him as if he were a horse. Sorin seemed not to notice.
“And then they recalled me, just so they could put a new brain in my head, ‘CAUSE THE OLD ONE WASN’T AS GOOD! Then, when they…”
While Sorin was continuing to spew tales of his military life, Michie had managed to lull herself to sleep on top of Sorin. It wasn’t until Sorin was finished with his tirade (which was about 63 minutes later) that he realized Michie was sleeping peacefully on top of him.
“Hey, uh…” Sorin whispered. “You- you dead? Can you hear me?”
Michie didn’t move from her spot, but she was still visibly breathing, which was all Sorin wanted to see. He carefully scooped her up with his manipulator hand and stowed her in his bomb bay, so that nobody would ask about any uninvited guests when it came time to open up the museum the next morning.
The floors sufficiently clean, Michie silently congratulated herself on a job well done. Being a janitor was surprisingly easy for her, and the work was interesting enough that she was never bored on the job. Plus, she got to look at all the exhibits for free.
With the museum closed for the evening, Michie retired to her quarters/janitor’s closet to change into more comfortable clothes. While she was in the middle of changing, she heard a knock on her door.
“Come in,” she said.
The door opened, and Michie saw the angular face of a Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit bomber (drone variant) outside the doorway to the hangar. She know this bomber by the name of Sorin.
“Agk, geez!” Sorin yelled as he tried to look away. “Don’t you know any dignity?”
Michie, having grown up in an environment where clothing was considered a luxury, did not fully understand why the sight of exposed human breasts were anathema to Sorin. Sorin had been conditioned during his military service to react to the sight of human genitals the same way most civilized humans do–that is, not look at them–lest he be the star of the latest national scandal.
“Anyway,” Sorin continued as Michie finished putting on some decent clothes, “I got you some dinner, since you were so busy with work. Now, I tried to make that Pho thing that you Viets like to make, but the in-house restaurants don’t serve rice noodle, so I had to improvise.” Using both of his manipulator arms, he produced a bowl filled with a reddish-brown, murky substance, as if he were presenting it in front of the UN Council.
Michie took the bowl and stared at it, unsure of whether or not it would taste good.
“The FINEST ingredients we could afford–Grade AAA hamburger, lettuce, tomatoes, beans, spaghetti, and vegetable soup mix.” Sorin tried to smile confidently as he said those words, which was a complicated maneuver as his face was shaped the same way as a shark’s.
Hesitantly, Michie took a small gulp of the concoction. Sorin moved a little closer, eagerly waiting for her response.
“…It’s good,” Michie said. “Very good. I like it.”
At that moment, Sorin’s mind exploded. He awkwardly moved away to hide his expression of pure, childish glee, almost tipping over in the process. Once he regained his composure, he turned back to Michie and asked, “So how do you like working here?”
“Oh, it’s fine,” she replied. “Not too hard. No one bother me. Get to see many things.”
“Well that’s good, I had to pull a few strings to make it happen. Did you know that you can win a lot of arguments just by being a goddamn huge black triangle of steel death? It’s- that’s science fact.”
There was a moment of silence as Michie continued to eat/drink the chunky brew.
“So, eh, you still haven’t told me why you been livin’ here,” asked Sorin.
“Not important right now,” said Michie while she set aside the empty bowl.
“Oh, c’mon, you asked me things that I didn’t think were important, so you could at least return the favor, lady.”
Michie took a deep breath. “Used to live in small village. See mommy and daddy every day. Then bad men came.”
“Oh, I don’t like where this is goin’.”
“Bad men take everything. House. Family. Nothing left.” Michie was on the verge of crying. “Had to go to city. Take many jobs. Very hard. Then one day, big plane find me.”
“Plane like you; very nice, very smart. Take me to this island.”
“Yeah, I think I remember that guy. He was here for a special exhibition on hybrids and other bigass aircraft.” The realization hit Sorin a second later. “Ah, and that’s why you so interested in me is it?”
“No, I don’t like you because you are plane.” She rubbed the side of Sorin’s wing with her index finger. “I like you because you are good plane.”
“Well, I ain’t THAT good…”
“Why? Why are you not good?”
“Uh, listen…” Sorin thought long and hard about what he should say–would she understand? Would she think less of him for what he was about to say? “I’ve come this far,” Sorin thought to himself, “so the hell with it.” He turned to Michie with a face as serious as it could be. “I’m a goddamn bomber. That means I kill people. All my life I’ve been told to kill people. And I do that. Killing people. You think killing people is a good thing?”
“Killing is bad.”
“That’s right, killing is bad. But there are bad people who kill other people, so we have to kill those bad people, so that they don’t kill other people. Get it?”
“I get it.”
“Yeah, I’ve killed a lot of people. But all of them were bad people. At least, I think they were bad people. I might have killed some good people. I don’t know, it’s hard to remember.”
“Why do you not know?”
“Well, killing people is so bad, even goddamn death machines like me know it. That’s why they put these filters into our minds, so that we don’t think about it. I might have said before, all those things about my life, and how they were AWESOME? Well, in my mind, they were. In my mind, war is like a goddamn video game; you move somewhere, click the target, ‘n BAM! Bad guy blows up, YOU WIN!”
Michie started to giggle.
“That’s what the filter does for us. Without it, war is hell. Also boring as SHIT! There’s no bigass cavalry of us coming along to save the day by bombing the shit outta the bad guys; there’s only a target that we have to wait for someone on the ground to confirm BEFORE we can start blasting the shit outta it, even though everyone can CLEARLY SEE ON THE SCREEN THAT THE BAD GUYS ARE THERE, THEY’RE ABOUT TO BLOW YOU UP, JUST MAKE THE GODDAMN CALL YOU STUPID FGGN RRGGFF-”
Sorin stopped himself. Michie reentered the hangar.
“Yeah, you see why we needed those filters. ‘Cause apparently, someone decided that freakin’ huge machines that deliver gift-wrapped packages of DEATH should have the same brains as humans, ignoring the fact that human brains are FLAWED AS SHIT! Iss like that one guy I know: old-as-shit super jet, older than me, baddest ass there is! CAUGHT A ROCKET TO THE FACE!”
Michie couldn’t help but laugh; not at Sorin’s tale itself, but at his over-the-top delivery.
“They brought him back, fixed his face, but apparently they couldn’t fix his GODDAMN MIND ’cause he started sayin’… a-a bunch of BULLSHIT, something about a ‘World Tree’ like he’s been readin’ Greek mythology or I dunno, then he went rogue, and then he came back and RAPED SOME WOMAN IN FRONT OF ALL OF US!”
Something triggered inside the young woman, as she began to listen more intently.
“So we said ‘Okay, this guy’s crazy, let’s kick his ass!’ But then that woman, that was JUST RAPED, apparently his crazy musta gone over to her, ’cause she was saying shit like ‘please don’t kick his ass!’ and then we were all ‘MOVE, BITCH, GET OUT THE WAY!’ and then we went after that guy… for like TWO GODDAMN MONTHS!” Sorin took a deep breath. “Anyway, after that, he just kinda vanished. That’s the end of that.”
“Yeah, vanished. As in disappeared. Or flew off. Or ceased to exist. Last contact anyone had with him was over Sakha in Russia, I dunno, no one cares anymore.”
There was an uncomfortable pause as both Sorin and Michie looked at each other.
“Well, I guess you better get some sleep then,” Sorin said. “Another day of work tomorrow!”
“Sorin,” Michie spoke quietly. “Why do you do this for me?”
“Ah, eh, um, well…” Sorin had trouble coming up with an excuse. “W-when you’re the star of the museum, ya gotta be nice to everyone, y’know?”
A coy grin formed on Michie’s face. “Maybe you fall in love?”
“Love? Like, seriously? We’re- we’re goin’ in that direction?”
Michie giggled. “Just teasing. Don’t worry.”
She kissed Sorin squarely on the tip of his nose. If stealth bombers could blush, he would be as red as a raspberry.
“Goodnight,” she said as she stepped back though the door to her quarters.
As the door closed and the last light turned itself off, Sorin returned to his proper place in the hangar. Left alone with his thoughts, Sorin mused on what had transpired in the last hour.
“Love… izzat what that is?”
One of the popular additions to the museum was a kids’ playpen, located in one of the corners of the main hangar. In keeping with the kid-friendly environment, the playpen contained various model planes and cartoon posters that attempted to teach children facts about aerodynamics and aircraft design. There was even a wide-screen television mounted on the wall, which was used to play whatever kids’ movie was featured this week. (It was the third Planes movie.)
This night, however, the playpen was being used for not-very-kid-friendly purposes.
One Vietnamese woman was watching the television from atop a Northrop Grumman B-2 Spirit, which was also facing the television.
“DAS IST DER SCHLIMMSTE VERRAT VON ALLEN!” boomed the surround sound system as the constipated form of an Austrian man flailed his fist around on the screen, while the wrong subtitles flashed on the bottom. “Verrat! Bringen sie mir Fegelein! FEGELEIN!! Fegelein, FEGELEIN!!”
The bomber aircraft nodded his head the only way he knew how. “Masterpiece,” he said with a grinning face.
Using a remote, the woman turned off the television and gently rode the bomber’s curves down to the ground. The name ‘Michie’ was visible on the name tag affixed to her janitorial clothes.
“Hey, what was that for?” the bomber asked.
A catlike smile appeared on Michie’s face. “Sorin,” she began, “do you love me?”
“Eeeeeeehhhhhhhh, well,” Sorin said as he tried to stall for time, “I do like you, but more like a friend, y’know? It’s just- well, I’ve thought about whether or not this ‘like’ translates to ‘love’, and I’m definitely sure I WHOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?!”
Michie had somehow removed her entire outfit in the brief moment that Sorin looked away, revealing nothing but bare skin underneath. Sorin tried to avert his eyes, but Michie kept appearing in front of him, like a cat that won’t go away no matter how many times you throw it out of your house and dump ice-cold water over it. Fortunately, the museum was closed and no one else was around to watch this spectacle.
“A-ah, ah, but, but, the cameras!” yelled Sorin in a panicked tone.
“Cameras are off,” Michie said confidently as she displayed her breasts to Sorin. “Nothing to worry.”
“Why… are you doing this to me?” Sorin whined as he shut his eyes.
“You say plane make love to woman. I want to see how you do it.”
“Hmm, yeah I did say that before… awww, shiet.”
Michie began to rub her nipples on the underside of Sorin’s body. As she worked her way further down to his tail, Sorin started to feel more and more uncomfortable, until it reached a head when she found a barely-visible hatch in the middle of his lower fuselage just after his bomb bay. Michie attempted to open the hatch with her bare hands while Sorin tried to grasp at her with his claw-like manipulators, but he began to feel weak and soon gave up on that course of action.
“Ahhh… lady, please, don’t do this…” Sorin pleaded with Michie as he tried to keep himself closed up, but the sensation was too much for him and his hatch automatically opened, revealing a large, phallic extension which sprung out of the opening like a Jack-in-the-Box. A towering, snake-like mass of metal, it was deliberately designed to imitate a human penis, with an almost-invisible layer of touch receptors that sends pleasure signals to its owner when activated. To this day, few people know exactly why all male-designated drones are equipped with these devices. Those people are the designers themselves.
“Wow,” Michie said as she admired her handiwork. “So this is yours…”
Sorin felt embarrassed at the sight of his fully-erect manhood. Michie had already begun experimenting with it, touching and rubbing various points on its surface, making Sorin moan and spasm in response to the unwanted pleasure. She was in control of him, and he knew it, and it was driving him crazy.
After she was satisfied with her examination, she grasped his member firmly with both arms and bent it sharply to the side, causing Sorin to cry out in pain and forcing him to quickly tip over in the opposite direction. She then pulled harder, which made Sorin hastily push himself over with his manipulators until he was upside-down, giving Michie a perfect view of his underside.
“A-AAAGHH! Tha… aah… that’s enough!” gasped Sorin, his voice becoming more feminine in response to him being dominated. The end of his phallus was beginning to leak a clear fluid.
Michie wasn’t done with him yet. She sat down beside his massive length and put it between both her breasts and her thighs, while her right hand capped the tip to stop most of his fluid from spilling out. Then she started bouncing up and down, rubbing her body against his sensitive [insert euphemism for penis here].
“LADY!!” yelled Sorin, his eyes diverted upwards. “Y-you’re too rough! It- it’s gonna make me…!”
“Yes, very nice!” replied Michie in her native Vietnamese, fully aware of what she was doing to Sorin.
It wasn’t long until Sorin started to convulse uncontrollably. His fluids desperately tried to escape his body through the only way out, but Michie made sure that it was plugged, causing the pressure to build up inside of him.
“GHHHAAAAGGGGHHH!!” cried Sorin through clenched teeth, his eyes practically gushing with tears of despair. “Michie, stop it! HHHAAAAAHHHH!! I’M GONNA EXPLODE!!”
“Ah ah ah,” Michie scolded Sorin in a playful manner, her hand still firmly covering the end of Sorin’s girth.
Sorin couldn’t take it anymore, his mouth agape as the pain started to impair his thoughts. “MICHIE… PLEEEAAAAASE!!!”
Michie smiled as he said those words. “Okay,” she responded as she nonchalantly released him.
“UAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!” Sorin’s eyes went wide as the first wave launched itself out of him like a rocket, gaining around 3 seconds of airtime and performing a vertical 1080 before it landed directly onto his face. His body continued to tremble as he rode out the rest of his orgasm while he continued to cover the rest of his upper body with his own liquids.
As Sorin finished, Michie looked back at her right hand, which was previously drenched with his fluid, but was now conspicuously dry again, save for a few drops. Michie looked closer and found that the drops began to evaporate quickly, leaving her with a surprisingly clean hand. She looked back at Sorin and found that every last bit of his fluid that he squirted onto himself had also disappeared. His hose had gone limp, but Michie knew there was still more left in him.
“Very interesting,” she mused.
“Are… are we done?” asked Sorin as he gasped for breath.
“Nnnnnot yet,” said Michie as she stood up, picking up Sorin’s member with her. She then pressed its tip against the entrance to her vagina. “Now you do to me what I did to you.”
Sorin’s mind went blank for a moment as his robodong [yes you can see I’ve resorted to the crudest of euphemisms now] stiffened up again, threatening to punch itself through Michie’s opening all by itself. Many things were bouncing around in Sorin’s mind: this woman, she’s done all these horrible things to him; now it was his chance to get revenge. She wants him, no, she’s BEGGING him to do it. Everything she did was a buildup to this very moment. Everything he’s ever done was a buildup to this very moment. It was ALL OR NOTHI-
“Whoa, whoa, hold on. You sure? There ain’t no turning back.” Sorin couldn’t just mate with her just like that; there were a bunch of ramifications revolving around this one act, this unnatural union that could change both their lives forever. There was no way he would just up and jump her, right here, RIGHT N-
“Please, Sorin,” pleaded Michie, “I am yours now.”
IT WAS HIS TURN.
With newfound vigor in his eyes, Sorin reached out and securely grabbed Michie with his manipulators, turned her away from him, and started lowering her onto his metallic cock. The first few inches slipped through easily as Michie guided the tip through her moistened entrance with her own hands, but the rest of his shaft found some resistance trying to force itself inside her. He began to pump her slowly, easing her into the feeling without causing her too much pain.
“Ahn, aah…” Michie moaned as she accepted Sorin inside of her.
Sorin continued to explore Michie’s insides, trying to find ways to stimulate her to the greatest degree. His mind was also being filled with pleasure, but it was different than when Michie was handling him earlier. Now HE was in control, and no SHIT he was going to abuse that power however he could.
“AH-AAIIIEEEEE!” Michie squealed suddenly as both of them realized that Sorin had found her most sensitive spot.
His target confirmed, Sorin started to thrust faster, applying more pressure onto Michie’s g-spot. She was being filled to the point where the tip of his cock was mashing against her cervix; she couldn’t take in his entire length, but Sorin was satisfied with the amount she could receive right now. With his massive appendage growing wider and refusing to bend, Michie found the sensations becoming more intense as she encountered the feeling of being ‘wrapped’ and stretched around a solid metal pole. To her, it was both frightening and enticing at the same time.
“UNGH!” Sorin growled as his lover squeezed tighter around his metallic organ. Now the sensations were becoming too much for him as well; he knew he wouldn’t last much longer, but he wanted to give her a satisfying finish, so he gained speed and tried to brace himself.
“AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AHHHGGHHH!” cried Michie in response to the bomber’s movements becoming faster and more frequent. “YOU TOO ROUGH, SORIN!”
“YOU SAID YOU WANTED IT,” Sorin yelled back as he felt himself reaching his limit. “YA WANNA QUIT NOW?”
“DO IT! POUR ALL YOUR LOVE INSIDE MEEEEEEEEE!!”
The sound of her at his complete mercy pushed him over the edge. “HHHHHYAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHHH!!!” he cried out as he rammed himself inside her with one last thrust, forcing even more of his length inside of her than before.
“GYAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Michie screamed as the two of them reached orgasm simultaneously, their cries echoing throughout the hangar. Sorin’s fluids started to leak out of Michie like a waterfall as he filled her up, emptying all of his reserves into her uterus. The force of his ejaculation almost propelled her off his cock, but he held onto her with his manipulators without crushing her. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss, Sorin let go and allowed her to rest on his belly, his manhood still lodged inside of her but no longer as rigid as a steel pillar. The torrent of synthetic cum that had drenched both Sorin and Michie had quickly disappeared.
“Is it over now?” asked Sorin. “Are you satisfied?”
“Hmm… maaaaaaayyyyyyybe,” teased Michie as she traced a line up his dick with her fingers. “Should try again some other time.”
“Oh geez,” thought Sorin, with a sense of worry looming over him.
Michie giggled and kissed Sorin on his underside where she lay, reassuring him that everything will be alright. Both of them were spent and exhausted, and neither of them felt like getting up at that moment, so Michie decided to fall asleep on top of him with his member still inside her while Sorin whimsically stared at the windows close to the ceiling, counting the stars outside. Neither of them bothered to notice a tiny, growing feeling deep within Michie…