An End HaM Ch 45

Ch 45
Time passed on and Hansel and Marion were appointed to frontline service, their final test had begun. It was late February and by now the allied advance was moving as fast as the Sherman tank could advance, the opposition floundered. Hansel and Marion pitied the German defenders and were horrified by how much younger they started looking the further in they traveled. They began hearing terrifying reports from other areas about the desperation Germany was in and the two prayed that it was just miscommunication and not at all true. They refused to believe the reports; Hansel swore that they had too much honor and dignity to do such things. Every town and city they conquered began looking darker and darker and darker, the population was in ruin and the homes were unrecognizable. They saw German women whoring themselves out for food and water, that’s all they asked for was food and water. It mentally fucked with Hansel, Meats, Whacker and Banker, Marion understood that it was all they could do but still felt it wrong. Constantly Meats, Whacker, Banker and Hansel would split one of their rations between them and give the three others to the women and children.

The combat was hard on the Germans, both sides, but for Hansel and his German allies it hurt to pull the trigger, to give the command, to extinguish the life of their home nation. Nonetheless they knew what atrocities that the Wehrmacht were unknowingly fighting for and knew that those atrocities must be ended no matter the cost. Marion never had to worry about her front being penetrated, not even by her own kind, but the one thing she feared were the PanzerFausts, the ‘Tank Fist’ will rip through her side and melt Meats, Hansel, and Whacker alive until they die. She made it her best interest to befriend the infantry so that they’d look out for her and after a few Panthers were put down under Marion’s gun they did indeed watch her back. The infantry definitely looked out for her because she’s the one that they’d use to remove any hardened positions and the one not afraid to stick out and take a hit. The infantry eventually nicknamed her ‘Heavy Angel’ for saving their asses many times.

In early March Hansel, Marion, and their little crew were driving with Cindy moving up, they were more towards the back and there on they could play with Cindy again. They liked playing with her; she always comforted them and got their minds off the war. Something caught Marion’s eye and she glanced up but had to double take. The reports were true. It was outside a village, a village of maybe four houses and a barn and this was happening. Marion furiously shook Hansel and got his attention towards what she was looking at. Cindy was going to turn as well but Marion covered her eyes and held Cindy’s turret toward herself. By now the whole German crew was looking on at it. Not one dared to admit its truth.

“Oh my God!” Those were the words spoken by Marion in horror. There just outside of a village of four houses, dangling from tree limbs, were six people. Four were in badly fitted Wehrmacht uniforms and two were unmistakably women in dresses, they all had wooden boards hung around their necks. The boards said they didn’t want to fight for Hitler, for the Fatherland, that they were cowards and pigs and Jew sympathizers. There was a team of Americans cutting them down from the trees, as Marion drew closer they saw three ropes behind the American team. As Marion got even closer they saw that the Wehrmacht soldier they were cutting down couldn’t have been older than thirteen. The uniform next to him had long girlish hair and a petite face. The two women were maybe in their sixties. One of the Americans picked up a sign and hurriedly ran over to Marion and handed Whacker the board.

“Kill these bastards!” And with that he ran off. Whacker read the board and all the reports he denied could be true suddenly were true.

“I don’t want to live in this world anymore!” He solemnly spoke through quivering lips as tears ran down his face; he retreated to his little cubbie and drank from his flask crying. Marion looked at the board and realized just how much she couldn’t read. She passed it to Hansel who read it aloud in German so Cindy wouldn’t understand half of it.

‘THE SS WILL HANG ALL TRAITORS OF THE FATHERLAND JUST AS WE HAVE DONE WITH THESE PIG-DOGS!’

“What has this world come to?” Hansel tossed down the board; Marion seized it and chucked it as hard as she could into the woods. It hit a tree and broke to pieces. Marion radioed to Zwei to cover Geoff’s eyes for at least a mile. She did so to Marion’s tone of voice. That was their first taste of the horror. More followed the deeper they went into Germany, soon their reactions went from terror and horror and disgust to anger and rage and hatred. They absolutely hated the SS, their anger and rage would build and fester until they at last had a vent; an SS division was holding on to a town with fanatical spirit. They liked it when they were fanatical, there would be no retreat. Marion and her crew insisted that they spearhead into the town and their angry tones easily persuaded the American major to allow this. They sat back and turned on their megaphone they’d use to dissuade any conflict only this time they spoke freely.

“DEAR S S, WE HAVE SEEN YOUR WORK WITH ‘TRAITORS’ AND WE ARE NOT HAPPY. YOU HIDE BEHIND CHILDREN, YOU HIDE BEHIND WOMEN, AND YOU ARE ALL WORTHLESS WASTES OF GERMAN FLESH! MY GERMAN TANK AND MY GERMAN CREW WILL LOVE TEARING YOU TO BITS. WE WILL FLATTEN ALL RESISTANCE! WE WILL RUIN YOUR PRECIOUS REICH MADE OF MAD DOGS AND SEE TO THE EXTINCTION OF ALL YOU STAND FOR! WE WILL KILL YOU IN THE NAME OF THE FATHERLAND, NOT FOR HITLER, WE KILL YOU FOR GERMANY! NOW PREPARE TO DIE!”

With that Hansel ordered Marion to push on and instantly she was away. In her path was a line of sandbags and dug in MGs and a Pak 38 that stretched across the main road. Her gaze was in a fierce stance that was affixed on that Pak gun, the gun crew hastily loaded and aimed but she knew they couldn’t do anything. They were only wasting precious time to run. The Pak fired into her upper and glanced off; Marion didn’t feel a thing and smiled as she slammed into the barricades. She heard the men screaming as her treads pushed them into the road and she and Whacker ripped any SS infantry they saw to pieces with their 42’s. They pushed through the town streets gunning down every SS soldier they saw. They HE bombed out any nests and sniper towers and trampled over any SS that stood in their way. Their blind push forward at first let the infantry swarm and absolutely overrun the SS soldiers but then it led Marion too far away from the infantry and, as she went through a narrow street, head long into another Tiger II. At first the Tiger II was hesitant to shoot because Hansel and them had rolled up the US star banners and Marion was portraying her German Iron Crosses, but Marion and Whacker spraying down infantry soon gave the Tiger II a rude awakening and a fight for its life. Hansel was the first to come to grips that they had no infantry support and he unbuttoned his hatch and grabbed his 42 so he could help watch her sides. As he was standing up out of the hatch he heard a blood curdling scream.

“TRAITOR PIG!” Hansel snapped his head to the right as a SS camouflaged soldier leapt from a window onto Marion’s roof. He slid into Hansel’s cupola swinging into him with his fists, Hansel narrowly dodged a few but one caught him in the head, knocking his headset off. Hansel punched the soldier in the nose blooding it. “YOU PIG! I’LL KILL YA!” He stood up and drew his P38 handgun and chambered a round, “AND THEN I’M GONNA HANG YA!” He pointed the gun at Hansel, Hansel dropped the 42 inside and lunged at the gun and grabbed it with his left.

“Get off my TANK!” He pulled as hard as he could and punched a right hook into the soldier’s jaw. The soldier lunged himself into Hansel and grabbed him, taking Hansel down with him. Hansel’s back bent and ground against the MG rail as he fell out of Marion and slid to the ground. Hansel felt immense pain as he most likely cut his back severely and possibly broke a rib landing. He and the SS soldier stumbled to their feet and the soldier, unable to have held onto his pistol, draws his bayonet and stands in a wide stance. Once Hansel regains his balance he strains to dodge and parry his attacker’s mad swings. Marion’s side and a brick wall constrain Hansel to fight head on and while Hansel was much taller with a longer reach than his attacker he also needed a bigger space to evade. He was running out of stamina, his adrenaline was pumping as much as possible but he was malnourished and tired. He looked to Marion for help but she was super focused on fighting the other tank. He screamed for her and smacked her side when he could but she didn’t seem to notice. He saw an opening and lunged at his attacker. He in turn took the knife and swiped from left to right at Hansel, missing and getting the long blade wedged deep in between the brick and mortar. At this time one of Marion’s arms shot out towards the soldier, who evaded, and struck the knife hilt and thus breaking the blade. The soldier recovered and spat out a wad of blood before lunging at Hansel again. Hansel had no balance and only had time to grab the arm.

It was too late.

The broken knife blade pierced through Hansel in his gut. Hansel’s grip prevented the soldier from moving the knife any more than it was but damage had been done. The soldier smiled and looked into Hansel’s scared eyes with a wicked grin; his teeth were covered in blood and his nose was broken. Hansel’s right arm and hand were free and with one swift movement he drew his father’s knife from its hip sheathe and jammed the blade into the soldier’s temple. The blade easily broke the temple, just under the stalnhelm and hit the brain, the blow broke the soldier’s bearing and his dying body released and crumpled to the floor. Hansel, too, collapsed forward but caught himself before he fell to his left side, the side the knife was on. Marion screamed out and grabbed Hansel, her eye searched over him a thousand times a second, her mind was going a million miles an hour but she had no idea what to do. She kept calling him again and again but he would only moan. She panicked and shook him crying out medic, medic, medic, her other eye caught the white circle with a superimposed red cross and her arms lashed at it. She slapped the rifle from his hands and pulled the medic over to Hansel’s body and with a sobbing voice she pleaded him to do something, to save him. The medic was very fresh and had only been ‘bloodied’ the day before; he laid Hansel flat on his back and undid his Panzer black tunic. He had no idea that he was working on an American conscripted tanker, all he knew was that the tank was crying and this German tanker needed help. Being a little bit thrown off by a living tank he carefully removed the knife and ignored Marion’s wails while he opened up the tunic. He stuffed his hand into the gash to apply pressure as his other hand gathered clean rags and bandages. He then replaced his hand with the rags and put on as much pressure as he could.

Hansel couldn’t move, his whole body was hurting. He felt blood oozing from gashes on his back, he felt all numb and hurt in his lower left gut where he’d been stabbed, and he felt Marion’s hands grabbing at him. He felt that one warm hand on his cheek, that one hand on his right cheek, the creases and folds where it bends, the textured grips, the blunt corners of each finger, all three fingers and the thumb, the palm, and the wrist. He felt their warm, passionate kiss, her lips enveloping his lips and the metallic and fleshy taste of her mouth on his tongue and the warmth that those kisses brought to him. He felt their embraces when it was cold, her tight and rimmed arms surrounding his torso keeping him warm on a cold night. He felt her relaxing hull, her platform that he’d sleep on like a mattress that was always warm when it’s cold and cool when it’s hot. He felt all of it, and he loved it. Her hand, it calmed him, his memories, it made him feel giddy, their love, it made him feel like everything was alright. Like nothing would separate them. He knew he was dying, and images of his friends flashed by him but he never took his gaze off of Marion. He thought to himself about death, he knew that their love was dangerous, that their lives were filled with death, and he constantly thought about this. He was once again thinking of death, about when he’s gone, he thought that when he dies today that he’ll be with her forever. He didn’t worry about not being with her, he would be her guardian angel, her consoling spirit, nor if there was no god and no spirits than she’s have his memories, memories of him and their love. He was alright if she moved on and loved another, he didn’t fear or dislike that. After all, he is dead, and he knows that she wouldn’t ever forget him. And he would never forget her. That brought a smile to his face. He wished he could get up and walk to her but he hurt too much, he wished he could tell her it was okay but his voice was weak. So instead he continued to smile and look at her.

The medic had been toiling away at his task with Marion carefully watching while the infantry caught up, fighting their way through the fanatical resistance. They saw that their beloved friends were still and they rushed up to help. They swarmed around and secured the area, holding the medic at gunpoint. Marion vouched for him, pleaded them to leave him. They brought up an American medic to take over and escorted the disgruntled SS medic to the other captured SS soldiers. Marion grabbed the dead SS soldier that assaulted her lover and threw him across the street into the burning Tiger II hulk. His body smacked against the metal making a loud cracking noise as many bones inside his corpse shattered. His rag body slumps to the ground leaving a large blood splat on the Tiger II’s armor. Marion had noticed their commotion on her roof but all her focus was making sure that the Tiger II was dead. She first put a shot right into the hull machine gun and second the coaxial, after countless shots wasted on the armor she noticed that the SS would back in and out of an intersection and shoot into her armor, she grew tired of it and so she pulled up just enough to HE rip their right track off. She backed up and just in time because they pulled out-or at least tried to. The left track drug their left flank into view and Marion put one into the driver’s seat killing him. The tank could only sit there and take her punishment and punishment is what she gave. Round after round she pumped into the side until a fire was set and the survivors tried to bail. Whacker and Marion gunned them down before they could get anywhere. Now that it was all done and over Marion noticed that the SS crew painted a pair of eyes on the turret, one on each side just as she had it only their eyes had a yellow eyeball and red irises. She didn’t care if it was alive or not, if it was she’d still kill it. She knows that her people are few in numbers but she knows that if it was in the gene pool, the same gene pool she was in, she would forcibly remove it for machine kind. Marion and her crew were relieved after that, they had shown that they were strong, showed that they were dutiful and trustworthy. General Patton received word of their results and arranged plans for them based on their performance. They didn’t know it then but that battle would be their last for the Second Great War. The U.S. forces took eighty-six prisoners of war from that town and the efforts of Marion saved many children and women forced to serve Hitler by the SS. Whenever they met a group of forced warriors she disarmed them and ordered to stand down. That helped Marion sleep at night, helped ease her burdens. She kept Hansel by her side while he recovered from his ailments, the stab wound severed his appendix from his intestines, at least now he didn’t need to worry about it exploding-something frequent in his bloodline.

Fin Ch 45

Well this is not the ending to their story but this pretty much ends their military combat for the U.S. Hansel’s injury puts him in a sickbed for the rest of the war, which ends for Europe on May 8th. I’m sorry that this was posted later than normal, it was a mix of missing the usual date and making this extra dramatic. I know, I’m a bastard.

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Tiger Day at the Tank Museum

So, last Saturday I had the privilege of going to the Tank Museum in Bovington for “Tiger Day” where they showcase the last operational Panzerkampfwagen VI “Tiger” Ausf E. It was a near religious experience. Watching that massive, sexy, fortress of a tank do its thing was incredible but, then again I’ve had a major crush on the Tiger I for a long time.

In addition to the Tiger, the Tank Museum is chock-full of… well… tanks. While there, I made a few new discoveries. For starters, turns out scout cars are freaking adorable, angular armor and rugged girthy tires, who couldn’t love that. My favorite they had was the Coventry Mark. I Armored Car. Somehow this (relatively) small armored vehicle really checked all the right boxes for me, making it one of many vehicles there I’d have loved to get some private time with. Look at that butt!

Next revelation came in the form of the my newest MBT crush, the Challenger II. I can’t believe I never came across this beauty before. The sloped turret face and angular bow armor and there’s something oddly attractive about the supplemental fuel canisters on the back.  It was an all around good looking tank. Maybe a Challenger II will be my next story, she’s certainly deserving of one.

Even surrounded by an abundance of attractive armor, nothing came anywhere near the highlight of the event, Tiger 131. I got to watch them start up 131 and drive her out of the building, roaring, screeching and clanking as she moved. They don’t make tanks like that anymore. After that, 131 made her way around the Kuwait field outside the museum along with a few other WWII counterparts and the Tiger’s successor, Leopard I.

Apart from the above, there were no shortage these steel warriors. From wall to wall of the massive museum there were tanks of all ages, The Great War to Afghanistan. This is a place I would definitely recommend to anyone interested in the heavier end of military vehicles.

Here, have some more. Especially that incredible Panther ass, Grrr!

 

HaM Chapters 1-36

Here’s insert 36! I’ve compiled them all into one post and… … … … 161 pages later it ends. Heh, I never ever thought I would do this. This really amazed me and I’m posting this so that the separate chapter will be on top. Thank you all for reading my stories and thank you so much for your feedback, it means the world to me.
Enjoy!

Chapter 1
“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.”
“-Love, Hansel”
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-“
“DAMN RADIATOR!”
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

Chapter 2
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.
“Hello, Hansel”
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?”
“Marion.”
“Okay, nice to meet you; Marion.”
“Oh, Hansel, one thing?”
“Yes Marion?”
“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

Chapter 3
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

Chapter 4
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

Chapter 5
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

Chapter 6
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

Chapter 7
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?”
“Yes… why?”
“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

Chapter 8
“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

Chapter 9
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

Chapter 10
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 snaps.
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

Chapter 11
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
Chapter 12
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

Chapter 13
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.
“So, Fritz…”
“Yes dear?”
“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?”
“Yes dear?”
“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

Chapter 14
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.”
“Go on.”
“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

Chapter 15
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.
“What-”
“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

Chapter 16
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

Chapter 17
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
Chapter 18
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

Chapter 19
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

Chapter 20
E looked over to her left and saw the small group of the male machines stationed there so far; Fritz and Mini-Rommel, along with the usual group of guys that hung out with them; Whacker, Inbred, Banker and one of Fritz’s crewmen. E was interested in them and asked Irish who they were.
“Who are those guys?”
“Oh those guy men are people you don’t want to associate with, but the tanks are Alter Fritz and Mini-Rommel.” Irish told her in his usual cheery mood; Edwards had bolstered him back to his usual self.
“How did their names come up?” She chuckled at the somewhat inappropriate names, Alter meaning old and the Panther named after one of the most feared generals to walk the Earth. Edwards piped in:
“Alter Fritz came up because he reminded me a hell of a lot of my great uncle, he served in The First Great War and would talk softly, smooth, and wisely about things. Much like he does; or did at least. Mini-Rommel came about because of his sly and cunning character. Little shit.” While he explains this, Fritz moves over and kisses Jäger to perk her up while Kramia, sporting her new armored skirt panels, runs over to Mini and lovingly rams his side, pushing him in the soft mud. E sinks her suspension a bit and sighs.
“Ah don’t worry E, I’ll be here for you. I’ll find a nice guy for you sometime.” Edwards looks to Irish and points to him. Irish shakes his head no yet at the same time shrugs in a ‘maybe’ fashion. “Where’s that new Tiger guy? What’s his name?” Irish asks.
“I don’t know either one. He’s got a thing for his radio op I thought… She’s pretty hot I’ll give him that, but I heard the loader boasting about being a stealth unit. Stealth my ass! You operate a damn house for stealth.” Edwards chats.
“Well they’re good at disappearing I’ll give ‘em that.” Irish concludes.
Hansel was taking great strides towards Marion’s tank house. He knew how he was getting laid this night, even after disappearing for the whole day. He knew they’d roll out soon, and wanted her to look spick and span when they did, and knew how she told him before she loved a good cleaning, so that’s what he’ll do. He passed by the tool shed grabbing a bucket, hose, soap, rags, sponge, handled brush, etc. and almost galloped to Marion he was so excited. A little too excited. He thought to himself. He tried to cover it as much as possible, even his boner, as he walks through the man door.
“Oh thank God it’s you, Hansel, you had me worried sick! Where the hell you run off to!?” She exclaimed, raising her forward hull up in excitement. She herself was a little… horny. She noticed the bucket of cleaning supplies and bounced a little more. She adored getting washed, the warm water, the cleansing soap, the massaging brush, rags, sponge, hands, she loved it all. Not to mention she loved the way she looked afterwards.
She helped Hansel unbolt the armored skirts for the lower hull and place them down for a hosing, then closing her eyes smiled and swayed side to side giddy with anticipation as Hansel stared at her new figure. He especially liked the shape of the hull more without her skirts, she was most definitely sexier. He finished hosing off the skirts then moved on to her body, he first started by hosing her off top to bottom all the way around, then he grabbed the soap and mixed a chunk of it into the bucket with hot water. As he did this Marion moved up an shut her door outside, then slithered back into her spot, overjoyed that Hansel could finally see what pleasure a bath gives her. He grabbed the sponge, soaked it, removed some mud off the track links to climb up to her turret roof, where he got to his hands and knees and scrubbed all the dirt they track onto her roof away. He noticed since she revealed herself she’s been a lot different from her days of hiding; she was generally warmer to the touch, and other than the dirt, smoother and softer seeming to Hansel. Maybe because I actually beat in her softest parts, that may work. He focused mainly on the optics, i.e. the commander’s cupola and loader’s view periscope, and then he lowered himself to the hull roof and proceeded to rub the dirt out of the niches of her anti-magnetic paint. The paint was in smooth stripes and crosses, like fabric, and enjoyed rubbing his hands all over her turret back, sides, and front, noticing she veiled her eyes for the washing, but left her mouth open and drooling a bit. Displaying her sharp tiger mimic teeth for the first time, making Hansel woozy knowing what appendages he holds dear being shoved in there regularly He noticed she was purring like a cat, and was amused by this.
He ran his hands over her wet turret for the feel, so smooth and softer than expected, and her massaging paint job sparked a little bit more oomph from her deep relaxing moans with purring and low engine rums. Hansel couldn’t be harder as he massaged her sides, and put great effort into her ass portion, as this gave the most pleasure noise for him to lust over, especially the exhaust mounts and shafts. As he moved back up to clean her gun, she licked her lips as she eyefucked the large bulge in the crotch of his pants. He simply smirked as he looked away and essentially gave the gun a giant hand-job while cleaning it; then grabbed the bucket and slid down her frontal glacis plate, noticing the shit load of dirt in her cable eye mounts. He grabbed the left side one and jerked on it to shake off as much as he could, or at least in thought he would, in actuality the ring came up, and out hinged the entire mount, revealing a nozzle underneath.
“Uh Marion, what the hell is this?” He asks childishly.
“That’s my sensitive fuel transfer nozzle,” Sensitive huh? He starts grabbing at it with wet soapy hands, inversely fondling it, “Mmm yes, they’re sensitive and that feels so good, but it doesn’t make me any more sexually active. It’s used for my offspring when they just come out. They’re sensitive yet still need fuel, so I would have them suck on this with their mouths to get their fuel instead of possibly harming their small sensitive fuel intake that I would use. Mine is fully developed, theirs isn’t. Typically its cover is locked down but I let it go, I was just so mesmerized. Mmm.”
“You could have just said it’s for breast feeding you didn’t need to make it so complicated.” He says as he finally pulls it out of the cavity showing a connection hose he’s seem before, she has two of them, one on each side I’ve seen them, always wondered what they were for, they’re not in the illustrations.
He gets back to cleaning her front, the last section. He uses the handled brush to reach the top, then presses down to his reach where the sponge takes over again. Marion continues purring and her engine rumbling, Hansel leans on her slope as he scrubs, feeling gentle reverberations around his thighs as that’s closest to the transmission housing. He works the newer shot bounces shiny gray and wonders why Marion wants to keep them gunmetal gray. He feels them, rubbing the edges before swiping into the crevice of the projectile’s change in course. She’s not softer, stupid Hansel, it’s comforting-no-welcoming. Her hide is welcoming! Hansel moves onto the lower glacis plate, buffs that out and is about to start drying her off with the rag when she proposes something to Hansel’s liking…
“Why don’t you grab that flashlight and clean my belly?” She motions this so smoothly and sexually Hansel can’t stop himself from doing so, like he was hypnotized. When really he was going to rub the shit out of her clit to make her very horny.
He climbs under head first from her ass end, crawls to the front, switches on the light and realizes he’s probably been fucking the dirt and shit instead of her actual pussy it’s that dirty. Nonetheless he gets to scrubbing, and in the first time in about two months he sees her factory yellowish-tan paint job, his cock demands some relief, and with the pain building he’s forced to unzip and pop his dick out. As he works down he admires how clean he’s made her, and thinks how dirty he’s about to make her, once he gets down to her special area and starts cleaning the armored cover panels, he spots bright silver-ish liquid, like smelted silver, dripping from the corners of where the panels probably separate… No fondling required! He decides to finish up cleaning and sits still under her, feeling a line of intense heat coming down the center of his face, and once he throws the brush out from underneath, the slab of hull above him drops down startling Hansel, then as they separate he’s met with one of the most elegant machine pieces he’s seen.
It’s always been dark whenever he has the opportunity to observe her elegant genitals, this time he has a light. The area the plates cover is spotless in dirt but covered in her cum, as Hansel has decided to call it, and the cum is a lot lighter in color than her actual gorgeous vagina of gunmetal like her shot marks. It drops into his face in hot spools, significantly warmer than before-she’s VERY horny-and looks smaller than a human’s-she’s going tight-and was lowering it onto his face when he stops her.
“What, you want to stare at it a bit longer babe?” She jests to him.
“That too, but I want to pay you back first… the cleaning was only half.” Marion was interested; she let him guide her up until she was almost at the end of her suspension lift then sat in wait as he set himself up. “Alright Marion, come down s-l-o-w” She did as he asked, and felt four thick ridges press against her lips, winding her engine up a gear more. Then as it grew more and more, deepening inside her, she felt a cavity towards the rear and-
“OH MY GOD!” Marion shrieks as Hansel thrusts his arm deeper inside, to the cervix about half his forearm’s length deep. Her forward half crashes to the floor, her gun drops like a dead weight, her eyes shoot wide and her ‘jaw’ is set as open as she can open it while her engine roars louder than ever before. The fact that she’s at almost her tightest setting and not expecting a literal limb of her lover to be thrown inside her is definitely a shocker. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT HANSEL!” She grasps for breath, feeling Hansel’s every vein and knuckle and joint and muscle better than her manipulators could, while Hansel’s arm is vibrated numb by her compression and her engine in overdrive, probably more than overdrive, her moans are more like screams as he pulls it in and out of her like he did loading the 7.5cm guns at boot camp. Her engine sends its vibrations all throughout Hansel’s body so ferociously the mud on his boots from cleaning was shook off.
“So do you like this, Marion?” Hansel asks her rhetorically. She replies with a loud moan and slamming her cervix down on him.
“OH-H-H-H-H! YOU’RE OPENING IT NOW!” She awaits no protest from Hansel but pushes the cervix down as hard as she could. With seemingly no stopping it, Hansel decides to give in and lifts his middle and ring fingers pointing then up for a spearhead. It worked. Marion is hit with one of the most intense feelings she’s ever had. She felt like she could feel the individual hairs on his arm it was so tight. Hansel felt an immense feeling as well, once it opened the shaft above him seemed to open into a tunnel and the sides squeezed his fist and wrist, he could also feel a gentle vacuum up and deeper inside her. Her entire frame was shivering, Hansel’s arm felt like spaghetti, and after a few more agonizing punches in-and-out, Hansel felt like his bones would shatter under the pressure she has on him. She was close.
“FUCK! FINISH ME HANSEL!” She screams to him. Hansel thrusts his arm deep inside her, up to mid-bicep, and this is enough to send Marion’s body up in a response of shock then fall back down to the previous height releasing a massive amount of cum on him, drenching his shirt and face. He slowly pulls his arm out while Marion’s engine slowly winds down. Once he’s free he leans up and licks her slot from bottom to top, collecting a good amount into his mouth. He spins himself around while circling her slot with his finger, then aligns his cock with her oozing hole. She surprises him by dropping down on him to his body, shoving his dick flat against his abdomen.
“Kramia taught me something fun today!” She chats to him. “Have you ever heard of grinding?” She begins rolling back, up on his shaft, pressing hard and slow as she slides on him. He releases a nice, deep pleasure sigh of acceptance, and lets her do whatever she wants with him. “You seem to like it too!” Yes he did. She continued grinding, every now and then she’d venture too far north and his head would insert itself nicking just inside giving Marion a buzz. She smoothly wrapped some manipulators under his ass, and lengthened her pussy for his dick’s length then pushed his midsection with his dick against her parting lips letting it rocket skyward into her before tightening up again.
“Now babe, remember not to cum inside, otherwise our service term may be delayed due to a child.” She said like a mother. Hansel replied “Yes, sugar.” She lifted enough for him to fuck as he wished, and just in preparation locked her suspension, for good reason. She let the feelings bombard her, with the cervix penetrated she was prone to impregnation, but it felt EXTREMELY good, better than anything before. She felt his veins, his entire shape, his slack at the base, his compressed folds as he thrusts inwards, his taught shaft as he pulls outwards, and his massive force he’s fucking her with tonight. Her engine was in high gear again in no time, and the enhanced constraint on his package made Hansel feel every piston strike that combined with the slight vacuum pull on him meant he was in fucking heaven. He almost forgot he had to pull out until Marion reminded him do the opposite, to his shock.
“OH I DON’T CARE FUCK ME ALL THE WAY! AH CUM INSIDE ME I DON’T CARE JUST FUCK ME HANSEL! OOO SEED ME!” She too was in heaven, as much as she loved the fisting, it seemed a little too much, but this… this was golden. Hansel panicked, he was on the verge but couldn’t get out. He thrust up as hard as he could, pushing Marion up to follow, then pulled down as fast as he could. It wouldn’t be enough to get completely out but enough to leave her cervix, when she fell back down on him his bomber slipped into a well in between the vagina wall and the cervix lip entrance where his bomber couldn’t hold out any longer and he released his payload. Hansel laid there shaking in terror, as much as he wanted a child he didn’t want to knock Marion out of her only calling, and didn’t feel ready to become a father. He took a breath of relief as he felt his seaman slowly sliding down his dick, meaning it hit a roof and didn’t enter the cervix… yet. He reached down with his hands, one to pleasure Marion to her climax and the other to scoop out all the cum it can out of Marion, it was awkward but proved successful, almost all the jizz was plucked out while the rest stuck to his stick. He wiped his cock off then pounded Marion into her finale, which drenched his pants and lower portion of his body in a great tidal wave of smelted silver.
He went down on her again, bringing his face up to her quivering lips and embracing the hot plush steel-like lips in a nice French kiss began to pluck and pinch at them, sparking Marion’s engine to turn over with every toying at it while her vagina’s production of her own jizz skyrocketed to help cool her sensitive area off. All this flooding made Hansel feel he was under an outside water faucet on a hot summer day sucking the hot liquid out and letting it slather on his face, it felt magnificent. Once she came she pulled Hansel out, and as he complained and asked why she let herself drop to the floor, her wheels shaking exhausted from his onslaught. She was breathing very heavy, and Hansel noticed as she exhaled she vented steam, same as what her exhaust pipes and direct engine vents where doing. She was steaming, soaked, sexier without her skirts, and Hansel wanted even more of her glorious ass. And that’s what I’ll shove it in next! She turned her turret to the left to see Hansel admiring her ass, and eyeing her pipes.
“Go. (She gasps for air) Ahead.” Hansel smiles with glee as he walked to her rear, stepped onto the heavy mounted jack, leans to her left exhaust port, using his right arm reaches for the right port, and proceeds to give it a rim-job and finger circles the other. Marion feels exhausted but lets her lover use what he can to please himself; she was not expecting, however, this form of pleasure. She did know she could open it for him. As he circles the two pipe ends with his tongue and fingers for the other, he watches as the vertical metal bar in the pipes, used to prevent a grenade form entering the engine, retract and the pipes beginning to collect more condensation of at first water, then noticeable amounts of her smelted silver.
“Fuck it already.” She gets out rushed in a single breath. He stops circling, and climbs onto the left armored cover around the pipe’s base, he gets a good foothold with his boots as Marion removes the soaked shirt off his shoulders to see his admirable muscles, she bends it downward to his crotch for his ease and so he could go deep, he bends over, after aligning, to get a good hold for his upper body. What the fuck am I about to do? He thinks, he thrusts in anyway. To awesomely fuck my love that’s what! He is met with a hot, wet, vibrating pipe tightening its grip on him as her eyes close to enjoy this and her body jolt upward in pleasure then rest again. Each pounding he exerts on her ass makes her body retaliate by rolling forward slightly then rolling back as he withdraws. Hansel is quickly exhausted from all the day’s dealings and when he cums inside Marion’s left tail pipe he lets himself slump onto her chassis and continue his orgasm inside her.
“Looks to me you’re done, sweetie.” She says to him very tiredly.
“Yes, I’m finished, I wanted to fuck the other one though.” He says swimmingly to brighten up Marion.
“Hm-hm-hm, you can do that one next time, alright?”
“Yeah. Damn I don’t want to move but I need a change of clothes and it’s supposed to get really cold tonight!” He wails like a child. He backs off Marion and zips up his pants and puts his wet shirt back on to head to the barracks to get his sleeping gear. As he creeps out into the black night, Irish turns the corner and a face of pure awe overcomes him before he utters his word.
“Damn.” Hansel blushes as Irish approaches him. “I mean you made her scream but did she eat you then piss you out or something!? My God!” Hansel murmurs his intentions of going to get his things before Irish responds again. “Jesus Hansel, you’ve definitely got some package down there and you sure know how to use it! I’ll get your shit you’ll freeze out here, get back in there!” With that Hansel steps back into the tank house while Irish fetches his kit and returns it to him. Once he’s all sorted he resumes the spot he was in before he left, reinserted himself, decided to fuck her pipe one last time before spooning for the night. As the two fall asleep Hansel wonders what the right pipe will feel like.
*Note to self: stop writing porn in skinny jeans*


Chapter 21

Chuck was strolling through the French hedge grove fields, admiring the beauty of the scenery. It was D-Day+6 and so far the Germans were on the run. His crew was back at camp on R-n-R and he snuck out to explore, and he soon found something interesting. He turns a bend passing through a crushed hedge as tall as his entire chassis is long and spots a crippled JägdPanther with Rosa written on the left side of the hull. Rosa had a large chunk of the forward drive wheel missing and the track ripped apart, presumably by a shot going through it. Chuck saw Rosa had eyes on the tall gun mantle plate above the long 88mm anti-tank gun and a large sulking frown below the gun mount on the mantle. As he neared closer Rosa noticed him and sighed as she lifted the rear end of her hull, the look in her eyes was miserable, broken, and painful to Chuck. He understood that she had been pridefully broken and accepting that he’d rape her as a war prize like so many other Shermans had before Chuck. Chuck shook his turret no and showed her with his manipulators he would not penetrate her, he didn’t know much German, but knew his commander Joshua did. Rosa lowered her hull back down into the mud and went back to staring at the ground in self-pity.

Chuck couldn’t stand seeing such a thing be left to live like this, even if it was the enemy it still didn’t want this, and definitely didn’t enjoy this one bit. Chuck went back for Joshua, and returned an hour later with him, and he too picked up how Chuck felt about her sitting here to be a sperm dumpster for any American tank horny enough. Joshua himself was of German ancestry and had family in France and Germany, and knew his German mother was EXTREMELY prideful and realized this was a huge disgrace to the tank hunter; Chuck had ties already to a Firefly and knew she’d be very tough to crack for sex from a German, and wanted to help this German ‘enemy’ out of this hell. Joshua started a conversation with an introduction:

“Hello there, my name is Joshua, and this is my Sherman E2 Chuck, what’s your name?” She looked to him, and slowly replied in compliance with a voice full of depression.

“I was named Rosa.” There was a tension filled silence before she spoke again, “You speak German very well, where did you learn, American?”

“I have a German mother and an English father. They moved to America shortly after mother was pregnant with me. We speak German and English at my house but I also speak French quite fluently because of my great aunt.” Rosa nodded once in acknowledgment and asked in bitterness: “So are you here to put me down and scrap me?”

“That’s what’ll happen when the division moves up to about here,” she looks away, sighs out and appears to let water diluted silver tears roll down her armor. “But I don’t think we’ll let that happen.” She darts her eyes back to him, hope and bargaining filling them.

“Please Americans! Don’t let them do this, please!” She begs them, Chuck lost and confused to all hell and Joshua turning to tell Chuck the gist so far.

“So, Joshua, what’s her story?” He asks Joshua to translate, as another living machine is somewhat rare for the Americans to put in the same divisions, and usually German vehicles are the only ones that are met, to finally be able to know what interaction’s like for another tank is a rare treat, especially from the enemy point of view. Joshua turns from Chuck and asks the pleading beast just that after reassuring her.

“Well my beginning is uneventful; I was assigned a crew earlier this year, and we never talked. They knew I was here; they just ignored me or sparked a small conversation. We seemed invulnerable, powerful, silent killers! But then after you Americans came, and we spurred here, we shot at only one tank, and two trucks and a building before my cowering crew began pulling through the hedges over there. I got to about here before a captured German anti-tank gun ripped through my sprocket, crippling me and making my poor excuse of a crew run! They bailed as soon as I stopped and never looked back those bastards!” Joshua saw how angry she was at this, she was thrashing her hull around on her clogged, sloshy suspension; he did understand why they ran. When he was in Italy his infantry support helped fend off a large number of German heavies with two of the German’s own ’88 Pak guns. “The gun ran off leaving me here… alone. I had great hatred toward my crew, but then three American tanks tried forcing themselves on me! They made me cry and beg for my crew again. The three broke me with much time, ramming me, rolling me, threatening me, and shoving their parts in terrible places until I gave in. They never got but my first passage, not my precious cervix! They raped me the whole night, not once did they experience the pleasure of me cuming on them! Never! There were five more after them within two days of each other. Two were gracious enough to pull out as not to hurt me more and persuaded me to let them me finish how I wanted, they were the ones that respected me more than a cum bucket! The others flat out raped me until they were satisfied, and left with snickering remarks!” Joshua watched as a massive force of pure hatred overtook her and fear engulfing himself and Chuck, who needed no translation to tell how pissed she was.

“Calm down, Rosa! It’ll take time for us to fix you up again with what we have, so anything you have will help but first you need to relax.” She took rapid deep breaths, slowly her respirations become calmer and soon she’s back to a steady pace. “The majority of trouble will be that drive wheel. We also need to make a deal between us.”

“I was with a Panther crew that was knocked out somewhere in the groves.” She gestures off into the brush, Chuck recognized ‘Panther’ and told Joshua he found one stuck ass-down in a bomb crater with a shot hole in the belly. The three make their deal, soon Chuck and Joshua run over to the burnt out terror and note that the drive wheels are shared between the two models of Panther. After some trial and error in getting the correct bolt measurements the two busts off the identical drive wheel and decide to drag the whole intact track like a sled behind them back to Rosa. Rosa was tossing her ’88 ammo outside as part of the deal, along with the hull MG and roof mount. She knew she’d be completely defenseless but understood the worry the Americans had in making her operational again with unsuppressed hatred toward the American tanks, especially the ones who raped her. They arrive back to her at sundown. To avoid attention they plan to meet back in the morning then leave for base.

“She liked you, Josh.”

“Shut up, Chuck. It’s only because I was the only one to actually talk to her.”

“No, no, there was more behind her voice…”

“No Chuck that’s just the dialect the language has.”

“Believe what you want, but we tanks don’t talk like that. Oh could you teach me some more German?”

“Yeah you’re a fast learner, probably because you’re a machine that seemingly knows everything American within a day. Wait… what made you suddenly want to learn German, Chuck? Got the hots for a German?”

“No! Just… it was-it’s… it’s complicated… I couldn’t really talk to her when she thought I would rape her, and it was just really awkward in the moment. I don’t want that problem again. It seems too… I think it feels worse for her and I couldn’t even talk to her… to help her mentally.” Chuck made a point, Joshua mostly taught the other men in his tank German but Chuck wouldn’t usually tune in, but when he did he was fantastic at learning and executing the German he learned.

“You’ve got a deal.” Joshua said as Chuck nodded to him. “Panther lover.”

“Shove-it! Before I throw you into the hedges!” The two joked the whole way to base. But Joshua couldn’t get Rosa out of the back of his head. Chuck did have a point where in her latter speech she had a tinge in her voice, that wasn’t part of the dialect. He could pick up a line anywhere in English but German speech and tone was still somewhat mysterious to him. She didn’t look too bad, aside from being covered in mud and grass due to the raping Shermans, and seemed at her heart harmless and troubled. He sat down with his crew at meal time and was oddly quiet, usually rambunctious like the rest of the crew, thinking about her meanings, all the way to bed.

Joshua looked around; he was naked and strapped to a round table on its side. Oh great another one of those moments, he thought. He looks around some more, and is met with Rosa staring at him seductively with a long broad smile bearing her panther mimic teeth.

“I think it’s time to get something straight, Joshua…” She was still eyeing him intensely, “I’ve had pent up lust and no satisfaction by my rapers, now I can finally fuck who I want and how I want it. And I want you.” Joshua kept his blank poker face as she slowly rolled towards him eyeing him top-to-bottom and licking her lips with a wet tongue. Once she got to him the restraints were gone and he was rock hard and craving it. A small panel opened at the base of the lower glacis and a silver pair of vertical lips that bend to the belly drooling silver goop caught his eyes. Just like where Chuck said his ‘Trojan spear’ is. She moves closer and closer, raising her forward torsion bars as high as they reach and sinking her rear bars as low as they can, getting her port as high as can be, about his belly button height, then she reaches toward him and forces him to drop to his knees, then sit down with his legs folded. She pulls even closer and pulls his head back then places her slit onto his mouth. This is new, and not my style.

“Lick it; lick it like ice cream, American!” She demands him. He closes his eyes and complies by lapping at the split and entering every so often, causing Rosa to purr and the engine to hum while once in a while her body would shudder then seem to ooze onto his face more, making him want her more and more ferociously.

“Enough of that, Joshua, let’s move on to… the main course.” She pulled him out and stood him up then bent his legs to where his long hard aching spear was at just the right height. She starts compressing her wrapped arms around him to pull him closer and closer until his point was at the gates of her cavern. She reaches down and grabs his shaft to guide it in on the mark.

“Venture deep, American.” The two let out a quite moan as her soft lips gently break and give allowing him to enter her where so many others have forced theirs. “AAAHHH! Now this is sex!” She pushes him deeper, and deeper, and deeper ever so slowly until he can go no further; this is when Joshua lets go of control and melts to her every whim. She pulls him up, then down, and repeats over and over drawing her pleasure toy up and down rubbing around to reach every spot she can make his shaft go. Suddenly she lets her wrap slip loose around him and she makes a moderate demand of her ‘victim’.

“Fuck me.” Joshua tenses up, unsure if she was moaning to herself or ordering him to do this. “You heard me, Joshua? I said fuck me.” He stands grasping this thought, he slowly realizes what’s happening, that he wants to fuck her. “I said FUCK ME!”

Joshua obeyed instantly after her last uttering. He felt a wave of alien feeling hit him; his cock was mingling with hot creamy love juice oils and hot dough-like putty he thinks is her port. Chuck might actually be on to something, he thought, this feels amazing! Her hull he was pressed against became warmer and warmer as her engine whines louder and louder, her purring and moaning growing louder and louder. Slowly her dough pussy began to stiffen like ice hardening; only instead of getting colder she was becoming very hot down under. Her engine started sputtering and her breaths more gritting and forceful. Holy shit she’s cuming! Her walls of hard dough went limp again and her engine cut down to a gentle hum again as she moaned very loudly and squirted streaks of slick hot silver cum in between his legs but not sparing his groin or areas of his abdomen.

“AHH! AGAIN! Stop for NOTHING! More Joshua MORE!” He merrily thrusted and thrusted, growing closer and closer to his own. He was approaching his first finally of the night, plowing through with no intention of ceasing, he had caught on, and was on the brink.

“GRRAAHHHH I’M ABOUT TO-”

Joshua hits the floor a wet sopping mess, his crew mate pushed his cot over.

“WHY THE HELL’D YOU DO THAT YOU ASSHOLE!?” He’d been in another one of those dreams.

“Well, you were thrashin ’round like youwa havin a fucking exorcism, so I panicked and poured sum water ov’r ya but that didn’t do shit… so I flipped ya!”

“Yea, well fuck you. What time is it?”

“Fo thirdy fie.”

“Why the hell are you up at four fucking thirty-five?”

“I was doin stuff.” Joshua just let this go, and knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep that night decided to wander and contemplate the dream, hopefully wanting to pull the last bit of the dream he was having to enjoy the last bit of it; cuming in that sexy tank destroyer. Until sunrise he beat on himself to bring up that dream’s ending, until Chuck reminded him they promised to meet Rosa shortly after sunrise. Joshua ate, cleaned, dressed, and just for good measure; put a condom in his pocket.

Joshua was mildly encouraging Chuck to go a tad bit faster, Chuck and the crew go way back, and they pretty much know each other like counting one to ten, only Chuck could count to fifteen on Joshua.

“You had another dream, didn’t you?”

“I might of.”

“About Rosa.”

“She’s female.”

“It was Rosa.”

“Not telling.” Chuck repeated ‘it was Rosa’ and Joshua continued on with ‘not telling’ until about forty yards from the break in the hedges that Rosa’s on the other side of.

“Okay YES! It was Rosa!”

“Knew it.”

“You will speak NOTHING of it! ESPECIALLY to her! Ka-peish?” Chuck chuckled.

“Ka-peish.” They rounded the bend and met an excited Rosa tossing an ’88 shell back and forth between her arms. Joshua struggled to contain his own excitement. As the two Americans began beating the literal shit out of the muddy wheel their replacing, Rosa brings up how their nights went.

“Pretty average.” Joshua said in a grunt, one of the bolts seemed to have rusted to the mount.
“I had a great night last night.” Chuck said in German, surprising Rosa a little, for he spoke nothing yesterday.

“What was so great?” She asks him in German, Chuck thought only understanding ‘was so great’ then inferred the ‘what’ part.

“I got a…. a….” He was searching for ‘letter from my girlfriend’ but turned up empty so he asked Joshua to translate.

“Oh who is she?” Rosa asks intrigued by this, her own mind was racing of this subject of being in a relationship.

“I have a picture her…” Chuck said a little slowly, knowing he sounded stupid, and pulled a picture from behind his gun mantle and let’s Rosa see it, the picture is Chuck and Katelyn, a firefly Sherman, sitting next to each other with Katelyn proudly displaying the sideways heart-shaped armor fracture Chuck accidentally did to her, leading them into a long relationship they’re still in.

“That’s adorable, nice couple.” Chuck sat there blank face, he has no idea what she just said.

“She said you’re a jackass, not enough!” Joshua was fucking with Chuck, who looked at him with an expression of ‘fuck you too, dick’ before trying to explain the heart-shaped dent in Katelyn’s mantle. Trying. “God you know so little! Here I’ll fucking translate.” Joshua was explaining the story to an intrigued ‘enemy’ who was staring intensively at his shirtless body, sparking a small flame in Joshua. Once he finished the story he gestured to Chuck to help him pluck the battered drive wheel off. As the two pulled and wrenched the sprocket off Rosa was screaming her chassis off in pain, and once the wheel did pop off silver fluids followed from various wells and mounts. Joshua stroked her side to help ease her tears and comfort her. She continued sniffling while they ripped off the useless tracks and put the new one on with quite the trouble even with her full ability to ease the burden. “Alright Rosa, all we have to do is get the sprocket on and we’re finished.” She was thanking and thanking them as Joshua went to pick up the wheel, and couldn’t move it. He looked at it with ‘holy fucking shit that’s heavier than it looks’ because they yanked this off and drug it, not at all carrying it, and Rosa’s was only half its original weight. Chuck helped him push it to her side, Rosa offered to help lift and guide it and stretched two of her arms and wrapped his arms and covered Joshua’s hands like a mitt, and this sent waves of feeling throughout both of their bodies, exciting them equally as well. They all three grabbed the sprocket and heaved it up to the clean mount washed clean by Rosa’s ‘bleeding’ and made it very much easier applying the new sprocket as it also acted as a lube.
“How’s it feel, Rosa?” Joshua asked her as she rocked back and forth in the mud.
“I can’t feel it.” She answered plainly then smiled in excitement doing a three-sixty spin in place.
“What’d you ask her?” Chuck asked Joshua.
“How it felt.”
“Well she won’t feel anything; it doesn’t have the life giving alloy in it. It’s basically a fake foot for her.” Joshua looked mind-blown. They can have fake limbs? What the hell? Rosa was in… the mood.
“So… How could I ever repay you two?” Rosa asked sensually eyeing Joshua and Chuck, but most definitely Joshua was being eyed the most. Chuck had no idea what she completely asked but her tone and gaze made him uncomfortable. While Joshua knew every of what she said and finally picked up on the tone and gaze and he was, well… interested, in her offer and reached in his pocket and found the square wrapping package. “I do have one way. Technically rape doesn’t take virginity… So I’m still virgin.” Chuck began to roll away, aroused by her tone, but knew it wasn’t right for him. “Well, not for long at least.” Her gaze fell on a shirtless smiling human with his left hand buried in his pocket and something large festering in his crotch.
“Hey-um, I’m gunna go, Josh, umm, see ya later.” With that he turned and left the two to their business.
“Aww, looks like I won’t have my three-way.” Rosa said sullenly as she crept towards Joshua where both of them had a large grin on their dirty faces.
“Nope, looks like I’ll be it for tonight, Rosa.” He said slowly creeping towards her.
“That’s all I need.” With that she lashed her arms to him and wisped him to her lips in a flash and the two instantly began in bursts of kisses, bodily fluids mixing and clinging to one another. She was pulling at his green dungaree-like trousers with much effort while he unlatched his belt and let her strip his pants and boots in one motion, the latter kind of burning his skin in rug-burn fashion, before throwing them off to the side.
“You don’t need that damned condom!” She said quite fast, knowing he had a condom in his pocket the whole time. “I don’t fucking care!” She placed him down on his feet and opened her port cover panel at the near tail-end of her belly plate. Joshua heard the panel open, it was more shot open, but staring at the spot that Chuck said that his ‘Trojan spear’ and Katelyn’s vagina would be showed him nothing, he was baffled; where the HELL is it!? Rosa herself was looking at him like asking ‘are you stupid’ but remembered that the Americans place their packages on the very lower portion of the front of the hull, and he was probably aware of theirs and not hers. She plucked him up, and smooched him one more time then hauled him to her awaiting and drooling tender nether lips.
Joshua was thankful she didn’t put his mouth to there, although kissing her was a nice mix of things he wasn’t all that into oral. She grabbed the base of his shaft where he grabbed as well, and together they guided his spear into her depths that made her engine roar like in his dream. She started quivering in her hull and her port was awash with her fluids. She’s wetter than I dreamed, and holy God does she feel even better! Joshua figured all the poundings from her previous assaulters made her very, very tender and plush with the firmness of cotton candy yet her insides where very hot, not unbearable but reminding of his old Floridian home’s summers.
“Are you enjoying this as much as I am, Rosa?” He asked her, she chuckled and answered.
“Not yet, that’s simply the beginning, prepare to go where no cock has gone before!” She pushed something very firm and hot down on his spear point, and that was unable to puncture so it instead bent and pained Joshua until Rosa assisted by inserting her hand originally at the base to hold his length up. “Venture deep, love.” OH MY GOD! SHE SAID ALMOST THE SAME LINE AS IN –AAAAHHHHH!
Rosa was able to slam her tight cervix down around his cock just the, making their receptors and dopamine to explode in excitement thus leaving the both of them drooling and savoring each other’s sexuality for who knows how long. Then Rosa reeled her tongue in and lifted and dropped herself periodically, giving Joshua a feeling he literally couldn’t even dream in his wild dream. So soft! So hot! So wet! So… SO DAMN GOOD! Joshua was hypnotized into a limp trance. MMMMMMM he’s so thick! OHHH he’s so warm! UUHHH he’s so long! AAHHH he’s so hard! OOOOO he’s, he’s, SO DAMN GOOD! Rosa was bouncing on him so fast she thought she was pounding as fast as her steaming and smoking engine’s pistons were. Joshua snapped out of the trance just as Rosa slowed to a stop to ease her tired suspension’s pain.
“Fuck me.” Joshua tenses up, unsure if she was moaning to herself or asking him to do this. “Did you hear me, Joshua? Please fuck me.” He stands grasping this thought, almost like the dream, he wanted to fuck her. Fuck her all night. “Please baby, pleASE FUCK ME!” Joshua instantly kicked into high gear halfway through her final request, turning the subject of question to a statement. Now it was Rosa’s turn to be succumbed in the trance of pleasure. In less than twenty seconds Rosa, unprepared for his barrage, came all over his body. ”AAHHHWWW YESSSS JOSHUA! fuck me! fuck ME! fUCK ME! AWWW FUCK ME MY MAN! Never heard of that one before. Joshua was being zapped of fluids by the immense amount of heat from her split opening and her radiating body, and was willingly lapping at the puddles of her ‘ha ice cream’ forming at his peck’s gap for nutrients. Her engine sounded like a roaring racecar’s in idle, but vibrating the shit out of Rosa and Joshua shaking the mud off their muddy bodies and making his endurance plummet, and all of a sudden before he could warn her he came shooting his cream right up her sucking cervix. Rosa felt this, and contrary to what Joshua thought she might do, she moaned in pleasure and thanked him for this sex, her first real sex. Joshua was quite scared for her and was trembling at what he just did.

“Why are you so scared, sugar? You did excellent, really, showed those Shermans how to REALLY fuck a girl.” She was hugging him and holding him close to her body, hoping her engine’s gentle vibrations would lull him to sleep with her.

“I-I-I-I c-c-c-came… Rosa I came inside you! I’m sorry I’m really sorry! It just happened so quic-”

“I know, I know. And I’ll happily raise this child, knowing that someone I’ve come to love has brought it to me. So, daddy, what should we name it? We’ll need a boy and a girl. Do you think they’ll scrap me now? I think not.” Joshua realized what they’d do to her, and he broke to tears uncontrollably.

“They’ll kill you now!” Rosa went wide-eyed, just like the Russians threatened, that’s the whole reason why she chose the western front. Her lips trembled.

“NO! I’M NOT GOING TO LEAVE YOU JOSHUA! I WON’T DO IT!” She too started to cry.

“Will the German’s let me in? I’ll go for you, but what then? What if they lose? Why? Why? WHY? WHY? WHY!?!” Rosa knew they’d never let him in, they would need to be separated to live on, for this new child to live on.

“No, no, no no no no no no NO! We can’t. We need to go our separate ways.” The two of them sobbed, held each other, and enjoyed their moments with each other as much as painfully possible, Joshua told her everything about the last day or two, and she did the same. Finally they slept the night together, then at dawn, painfully, tediously, and heartbroken, they left each other after agreeing that Chuck will never veil himself that way Rosa can spot him, and to paint a gray heart shaped dent into his rears of the turret and hull.

“Hey Rosa! Wake up we’re getting shipped out and we’re getting a new battalion of just us living machines!” cried an excited female Puma, Rosa woke to a bright morning of September 14th, three months after she had to leave her love. She wiped the tears away and made sure her hatches were locked, she had no crew, then she looked at a note from that time ago; Zachery / Jasmine the names of that child, if she really was pregnant. “Why do you keep that note around? The hell is it?”

“Just a link to my past, that’s all.”

“Ah the infamous past no one knows!” As she blabbers on, Rosa folds the note, tucks it behind her mantle, and wipes away the tears of the past.
Fin Chapter 21

Chapter 22
Hansel woke up early, stood up and remembered where he fell asleep as the blankets fell off and his ass following. The blankets cushioned and muffled his fall, not waking up Marion, sound asleep with her turret still turned and relaxing on her hull belly and her gun completely depressed down. Hansel smiles coldly, thinking of the best miss they had last night then gets on his feet shivering and putting his morning wood away to die down.
“Holy shit its cold! It’s early this year for sure.” He talks to himself as he decides to keep his night clothes on under his uniform getting dressed. As he’s ducking under Marion’s gun mantle she embraces him and holds him to her warm hull.
“I’m sorry I lost it last night,” she began, kissing him on his forehead. “I don’t know what came over me, I’m lost there.”
“it’s fine,” he responds kissing her back. “It’s probably just natural when your cervix’s opened. No big deal we’ll just have to be careful.”
She brings him into another kiss on the lips, a long one before releasing him. “Your hair’s growing longer, I like it longer; wow it’s cold today, even in here. I wonder how cold it is outside. Do you think they heard me out there?” She asks teasingly.
“Oh I know they heard you. I know that for certain. And I know you like my hair.” Hansel said blatantly kissing her again before she stood back up on her suspension’s usual height. “Well we’re moving out finally. I’m going to see what all the others are doing before we leave; I want to talk to my family before we leave, still.”
“Alright but don’t get into trouble and be back before noon. I’ll probably be here getting my shit together.” They gave their farewells and Hansel trekked to mess hall for a bearing on his crew. As he walks through the doors he hears Inbred call to him.
“MY God Hansel! Could you make her scream any LOUDER!?” He yells sarcastically, Hansel smirks and walks over to his crew, where Whacker and Banker weren’t arguing for once, mostly because Whacker was out cold in his mashed potatoes. “Please don’t Hansel, I couldn’t sleep at all, Whacker slept perfectly fine I’m not sure as to why he’s out cold now.” Hansel looks over to Whacker, he was drooling into his mashed potato pillow. Then Inbred makes a shuddering noise, “how-how do you do it? It’s… uhuhuhgg… boiling hot motor oil burning and-and-and hot steel it-it-it’s… aahh howww? Yeah sure Marion’s attractive-but-but, eeugh!” Inbred was showing a little confusion and distaste.
“It’s not hot motor oil or steel.”
“Cold motor oil? Cold steel? I-I-I-?”
“No, Inbred, no, it’s none of that!”
“Then wha-what is it?! Hot steamy exhaust pipe?”
“No it’s no-well… mmehh kinda we can-”
“Doesn’t-does-da-doesn’t that burn? I-I still don’t get it!” Inbred was beginning to stutter that’s how confused he was.
“Alright Inbred shut up! Let me finish!” Hansel snapped, Inbred stopped fidgeting and sat slumped with his hands in his lap. Hansel sighed and rubbed his forehead with his thumb and pointer finger; he couldn’t believe he had to explain Marion’s most sacred parts. “Gah, it’s not motor oil, it’s a coolant mixed with a silver color, like Mercury but it IS WARM… not hot like burning but it gets… hot, when she’s… (oh God damnit) hot… Get it? Good; and it’s not steel it’s…” Hansel fumbled, he’s never had to compare it, he doesn’t know what it is. He could infer on taste but then Inbred would know what else he’s done to the tank he calls home. “Ah shit, it isn’t steel I guarantee that. It’s… soft, but metallic, it tastes metall-fuck!” Inbred went wide eyed, shocked at that point. “Fuck it! She’s all metal, she tasted metal but she’s soft like flesh and she can get pretty hot in there, alright!” Hansel looked at Inbred with his face saying ‘ya happy now Inbred!?’
“You didn’t need to be a bitch about it. If you blew her, you blew her, great; good for you two but Jesus don’t act like it’s a bad thing. Bunch of pussies.” Whacker commented slowly and out of it.
“How could you have heard that and be alright with it!” Inbred asked shocked Whacker was awake.
“Well she knows I’ve jerked inside her so, and she’s obviously got something Hansel can use to make her scream, so, and the only way I’ve made my girl scream like that was going down deep on her. Not that big of a deal. Love’s love, Inbred, get over yourself.” He said opening his eyes and rising, wiping the mashed potato bits from his face and beard.
“You were awake the whole time?” Hansel asked blandly.
“Yes I was awake, mashed potatoes are better used as pillows here. Where’d Banker and Meats go?” Just as he asked Meats walks over with a tray full of assorted meats, greens, and bread.
“Banker went to the shitter when Hansel sat down.”
“Meats why aren’t you cooking?” Hansel joked.
“Ah they’re just jealous of me, that’s why.” He sneered back. Banker walked back over and sat down.
“So now that we’re all here, what are we doing on our last day at Munich?” Banker was optimistic, and was looking around eagerly at his crew mates.
“Let’s go to a pub.” Whacker blurts instinctively. The crew looked like that was a bad idea except Hansel.
“Actually that’s not a bad idea.” They all looked at him in surprise; Hansel never let them into pubs. “I know of one, it’s a good place. I’ll get some chow there and not here, this stuff’s shit.” He got up and told them to meet him at the gate in thirty, they didn’t need to sign out with command, Marion’s crew was all on leave. Hansel goes back to Marion to tell her they’ll be at the bar.
“That’s fine; although I’m curious… could you bring back a keg?” Hansel furrowed his face.
“Why?”
“What do you think I can’t take it? I’ll be fine I just want to try it. Besides… it could make me… “She winked at him. He just huffed a single ‘hah’ and promised he’d bring her something. Hansel walks outside and spots his old Tiger and his crew packing up nearby with Faust and Anton with their crew. He decides to walk over and invite the crews to the pub.
“Hello Hansel,” The Tiger said, noticing him approach. “I don’t recall telling you my name they gave me.”
“No I don’t think you did.” Hansel responds nodding the group as a greeting.
“I named him Griffin.” His radio operator Emilie Volkstung said proudly and smiled at Griffin, who smiled back.
“I like Griffin,” Anton said as he chucked a rucksack onto Faust’s engine roof before climbing up to tie it to the armored skirt Faust has on her turret. “But like Faust better!” He grinned widely at Faust; she nodded her gun and pats him on the head before trying to tidy up his scruffy look.
“I know you do, Antie, that’s why you picked it.” She smiled at him and looked into his green eyes while he looked into her warm hazel eyes.
“So todays the last day in Munich and we planned on going in to a pub or bar, care to join?”
The women instantly declined for good reason, other drunken soldiers would take advantage of them, then one by one Faust’s crew respectfully declined except for Anton, who asked Faust if he could go. She thought for a moment before something struck her and she agreed to it.
“Hooray! Going to a pub! Finally a pub!” He’s never been inside one before and he’s spurting out all the things he’ll do such as drink, game, pub activities.
“Alright then come on. I’ll make sure he comes back intact and he doesn’t drink too much, Faust.” Hansel called to her, she lifted he metal brow-like eye protectors.
“Oh no let him drink all he wants…” Her tone was suspicious then she smiled wide and said under her breath, “all he wants.”
Hansel walked with Anton back towards some other crews, contemplating her message. He walked around and learned that sadly no others will be joining them, Irish wants to befriend E as much as possible before some combat can prove fatal, Edwards and his crew adopted their old ways of Jäger and Fritz’s crews being one large group, and all the other Tiger crews were busy on their own accords. So when the time came to head in the bunch of six looked at each other awkwardly, expecting more to accompany them, before driving off in a Kubelwagon to the city. Munich had cleaned up fast but the scars still bled, ruble was shoveled into collapsed basements, distraught people wandered the streets, and children sat distressed and too sad to play games, then on other undamaged streets life looked as if there was no war, stores, games, happy faces and playful children tugging at the group for something from the front like a helmet or a canteen. Anton was playing tag with some grade schoolers when Hansel pointed out the bar his father had taken him too. It was rudimentary and plain, but inside were much festivities, games, joking, women and food.
“Hey Antie, we’re here! Come on inside brother.” Whacker yelled to a taunting Anton who climbed up onto a store stand roof to avoid being tagged by a nine year old girl.
“You go inside, I haven’t played tag in a long time!-Ha!-Almost got me!” He continued to taunt her until she played the gender card and got him to climb down. As he continued the five others waltzed on into the bar and without even hesitating Whacker plops down next to a revealing fräulein at the bar; his two favorite things, while the other four mingle and drink. Things are going well, Whacker’s on his sixth beer in under ninety minutes, Inbred and Meats are enjoying the company and stories of some old Great War veterans, while Banker and Hansel are at the bar chilling out and bonding, Hansel couldn’t remember the group this actively engaging and merry, while Banker was talking about finances work and Hansel listening closely so he could work some money magic at the end of the war to free Marion of military control Banker took a swig of the cheapest beer and made it clear why it was the cheapest when he gagged and spit it out instantly.
“Wow that’s shit!” He exclaims after Inbred comes over laughing at him. He takes a sip and looks at him strangely.
“Another problem with you, Banks, this is pretty good.” Hansel motions for the bottle and takes a bit of it and is pleasant of it until the after taste hits and he spits out trying to free the wretched taste from his mouth.
“No no! Banks is right! Shit, that’s this beer, shit!” Hansel figured he’d get this for Marion; he didn’t want her to become an addict like Whacaholic and figured he’d save on money. After ordering the keg a group of rowdy Wehrmacht soldiers paraded in and asserted themselves around Hansel’s crew. Hansel thought nothing of it until he spotted the unit patch on the sergeant’s coat next to him… it brought back memories of that old panzergrenadiers that rode with his panzer unit…
“Greetings, Captain, what brings you here?” He spoke with a more northern dialect and sounded exhausted. “We’re in from the front and are looking for a good time, which this dumb bastard will miss out on!” He grabbed one of his squad mates by the shoulders right next to him and shook him.
“I’ve told you I’m against drinking. I don’t know why you even care bringing me.” He said very self-consciously, almost setting a disinterested tone.
“Ah well, fuck him! How’ve you been Captain?” The two talked for a good bit, every now and then Hansel caught Inbred looking intensely and suspiciously at the panzergrenadiers. Hansel talked about moving their tank column up northward tomorrow morning, their numbers and speed, all of it to a brother in arms. But the sergeant reeled when Hansel talked about the panzergrenadier unit that saved him and his tank many times in Russia. Hansel thought nothing of the unit in the west; he was in the west now, why not them?
“So hows about some beer?” The sergeant asked then asked his companions for their tastes. “Are you sure you want nothing? Seriously? Alright then, four beers bartender!” Hansel looked at his hand, he held up four fingers with his thumb tucked…
“YOU ENGLISH BASTARDS!” Inbred yelled as he lunged for the nearest intruder, who was pulling a pistol from his belt. Hansel goes wide eyed as a fist from the sergeant flies toward his face. He wipes the strike aside as Whacker reached behind the bar and grabs a bottle before swinging madly at the sergeant. A blow of the heavy bottle sends him sprawling onto the non-drinker behind him. Two others tried to gang up on Meats, Banker had been hit from behind with a club, Meats grabbed them by their throats and lifted them off the ground with his massive strength before body slamming them on the ground. The two forces clash as citizens scream and run out as guns fly out, no bullets hitting their marks. Hansel takes on the sergeant while Whacker takes on his sober friend, Inbred was pig-wrestling his foe and rolling him to hit anything heavy while at the same time being hit himself, Banker went out cold leaving Meats to take the force of two angry men who thought they could deal real damage to him. Anton runs inside and slams against the sergeant, he elbows Anton in the nose, blooding it, before Anton bear hugs him tight and head bangs him hard in the back. Hansel unleashes the fury that someone hurt Anton and punches the sergeant in key areas like the side of the head, gut, neck, and kicking out his knees. The group holds out long enough for officials to arrive and through questioning, discover Hansel’s group as German soldiers and the other as spies, the sober man had recording gear under his tunic, but thankfully, no transmission equipment.
The group recollected themselves and for the most part literally licked their wounds. Hansel had taken some time to take what he rightfully bought; a keg of shit beer, and Anton picked up a full bottle he’d found lying on the floor, he’d have his first back with Faust. The ride was tiresome, and Hansel knew he’d be in no mood if Marion was in heat still from last night, but he tended to Anton’s wounds who tried to fend him off, trying to prove to Hansel he could fend for himself. When they pulled back to the base they were met with hearty appreciations from the others, and while they waddled about trying to regain their footings, Anton stumbled worse than Whacaholic, prompting Irish to ask if he drank more than Whacker.
“No he didn’t drink at all, he’s just… worn down.” Hansel says as he pulls the keg from the back seat. Marion heard about the fight and was trying to get to them as soon as possible, but when she saw them all battered up in a mess she took a sigh of relief and grabbed Hansel and drug him to her lips and kissed him. He was so tired he let himself rag doll over her hull and told her with his enthusiasm in his kiss that he was not in a sexual mood. She pulled him away smiling and looked at him and the others all rag-tag and worn.
“Alright, from now on, no more pubs for any of you.” She lifted her eye shade brows and looked at them all squarely in the eyes until they nodded in agreement. After that she asked if Hansel brought her anything and was presented the keg, she tried some in the corner of her mouth holding the keg to her faceplate and drinking away. While she argued with Inbred’s side against Hansel and Banker on how it’s good Anton slips away still staggering like a drunk, searching for Faust. He was thinking about her as always, he was very much attached to her as a friend and comrade. She’s so pretty, so very pretty, no she’s beautiful. I wish I was as nice looking as her. I wish I could make her feel as good as I do around her, she always makes me feel good, she always makes me smile and picks me up just by being there… I wonder if I do the same for her… I want to make her feel as special like that, but, how? How could I? As he turns into her tank house he spots her angling her hull corner shot like with her looking at him with a very wide smile bearing her amazing razor teeth and looking at him through seductive eyes. Then she speaks to him in a low tone.
“Hello, Anton!”
Fin chapter 22

Chapter 23
Faust watched as Hansel and Anton walked off with a big maniacal grin on her face and a set gaze on Anton. “All he wants.” Hansel gave her a suspicious look over his shoulder before she rubbed her lips together side to side. She was thinking to herself. It’s time I get this, and this’ll be perfect! He won’t remember anything, hammering himself away at the bar he’ll come back drunk, he’ll come to me and I’ll get him then! He won’t say no, no he won’t resist, looking for tail there but when he gets nothing he won’t think twice about me… He’ll wake up tomorrow on my engine with last night a blur and lost to him, he won’t know what we did… He will later but not now, he’s… he’s too fragile now. Poor thing, but he’s just, just, just there, always there and happy, he’s just so adorable. If he only knew how handsome he was I wouldn’t have a chance, but I’ll get him. I’ve been at him and at him but it seemingly just… goes over him but I feel like he does get it, deep down I think he knows what I mean… Oh he’s perfect, always interested in something, always lively, always glad. I hope he loves me deep down, more than a friend. Please oh please let this be true! He’s too much for me not to love him! And I’m getting him tonight, it’s been too long now and I’ll get him tonight or else. But we’ll need time… time. She thought for a while how to get time, they’re shipping out northward in the morning but it’ll be before sunrise for the cover of dark then morning fog to get out and away from the city, night time is a no-go because of militia and night bombers. Faust thought as her crew finished packing, she needed someone to have a engine problem, but the mechanics could whip out anything wrong with their engines in a flash, she needed someone whose engine is unknown…
“Kramia!” She darts off to find her Russian friend right as she was packed up. She looked around for Kramia or Mini, she asked Fritz and Jäger with no help, she found Irish and E playing with the gun breach and when she asked E said she didn’t even know anyone here, and Irish had no clue but introduced E and Faust to each other. She meandered around until she found Mini and Kramia cuddling by a tank house.
“Morning Faust. You look busy.” Mini said merrily, Kramia smiles. The two are always so happy together. She thought then she asked to talk to Kramia privately.
“Sure, Faust. So what do you need?”
“So, I have a personal request of you…” She asked slowly for a way to word it well, Kramia was still listening, “so would you mind throwing out your engine… possibly?” Kramia looked confused. “Not like replace, I mean to fake a problem. Preferably tomorrow morning.” Kramia looked more understanding but she wanted to know why. “Well you’re the only tank here none of the monkey wrenches around here know inside and out, and I need time in the morning.” She looked around a little paranoid like.
“Why you need time? You look ready now.”
“Well… Anton went to the bar, for the first time and, I want him to get… hammered.” Kramia smiled, she was catching on now.
“So he might hammer you?”
“No he will hammer me.” The two joke around some more, all of feminine humor that went over a confused Mini’s head who sat poker face waiting; he tried to interrupt and tell Kramia something but couldn’t be heard over their chatter. Eventually Faust left them and raced back to her tank house to prep herself, she had no idea how long they’d be so she was trying some positions to greet Anton in that would hopefully arouse him when Kramia roll to the door looking depressed and scared.
“FFFFaust-” she began trembling.
“Yes Kram?” She asked worried, hoping nobody learned of her plans she told her.
“I don’t need to fake it…” She started, Faust moved closer to her deeply worried now, “They’re taking away my gun…”
“Why?” Faust was aghast, she had never thought of changing a tank’s gun mid-service. Mini rolls to Kramia’s side and holds her as best he can leaning in to her and letting her lean and rest against him.
“They don’t make her ammunition, and to put a line for one tank is a waste so, so they’re replacing her eighty-five with a custom built and fitted eighty-eight.” He answered her. Kramia kept sobbing and turned to try burying her face parts into Mini’s side. Griffin rolls by with his radio op and gunner and takes a heartily notice to Kramia.
“What’s the matter? Homesick? It’s alright, all normal.” He asks her, Mini answers him the same he did Faust. “It’s not that bad, I’m sure they’ll let you hold on to your gun.”
“But I love this gun! It’s mine and I’m good with it! I-I can hit my mark on the move! I don’t want to restart, please!” Kramia wailed.
“Hey come on, it’s not that much different, only three more millimeters, that’s all!” Griffin’s gunner spurted, “you’ll love the double-eight. Trust me, it’s better.”
“Yes, reach out far more with even more accuracy! It hits a lot harder, too, only need one shot to stop what’s over here. You’ll be glad you got it.” Kramia seemed to perk up, Griffin smiled and moved on back to his path. Mini tugged on Kramia, she held onto him as he towed her by his side off to their usual spot leaving Faust at her tank house. She thought about it for a while, Kramia didn’t have anything complicated on her mantle like Griffin’s eyes, and looked like it could easily be separated so she didn’t drag on the subject. Instead she moved over to Anton again, she thought about how he’d look nude, enticing her to drip in her sensitive region and play with it through her covering panel to tempt her but not fill her, Anton would do that. She spent the majority of her time deciding on her welcoming stance, seductive tone, greeting, sex adventures, naughty stuff, then waited and lusted, almost losing it and destroying her clit herself in heat but held off just long enough.
She heard some hard placed footsteps approaching and hoped it was a lone Anton. As Anton turns the corner sluggishly she notices his uniforms jacked up and there’s blood on his chest and collar from his bloody nose and cares not then notices his drunken stagger and usual smile with an unopened beer bottle in his hand. “Hello, Anton!” She says seductively as he staggers toward her while she then closes the door. He falls on her jutting hull hood in a wide arm embrace and says hello back in his tone with a hint of exhaustion and excitement. She pulls the bottle out of his hand and places it on the floor next to her, then she starts unbuttoning his shirt except for the few he’s pressing against her body before moving onto the belt latch. Anton wanted to hold her for as long as he could, he wasn’t sure why she was undoing his belt; he didn’t think he got blood on that or his pants but let her take out the belt before taking off his shirt for her to do something with. He noticed she was looking at him weird, but even then she was still beautiful to Anton, her gleaming brown eyes and her shining smile, he felt warm inside, all gooey around her it was astounding. She talked to him, asking questions, he left out not drinking a drop, or only setting foot in the bar for about ten minutes, or the fight as not to worry her, he didn’t like making her worry like that. She lulled him very forcefully and precisely, and stripped him in a logical manner as to check for wounds; his undershirt, shoes and socks, and pants which was new to Anton as she always left that to him to deal with. Then when Anton noticed she never went for his rucksack for some spare shorts like she usually would he was curious, and then she started to play with his manhood; Anton knew in the back of his mind what she wanted, and he hoped he could make her feel wonderful; the best she ever has, the way he always feels around her.
He grinned dirty, and Faust went in for the taking. She instantly opened her cover and pulled a tarp under it for him to lay on and quickly led him down under her front and edged him to the spot before tearing off the final piece of clothing on his body sending Anton a message that maybe she does like him back, she likes him a lot. His member instantly sprung erect being suddenly freed and Anton felt very warm streaks of shiny fluid drop in a vertical path up and down his crotch with his cock in the middle. Her engine was whining in anticipation, she wraps two manipulator arms under Anton’s arms and up his back on his shoulder blades and two more around his waist ready to pull him in when out of nowhere he jumped up and slid himself inside shocking and pleasing Faust into a happy wail. Anton felt her grasp his cock, snuggle him with her arms there, and nudge downward on his shaft head with a plush roof that raised her pitch in her continuous stream of mmm, so he sat there and lavished in her pleasantry, soft, plush, warm, slick, and reverberating all around his boner. Once he decided to hump her again he used his knees as leverage to push downward on her arm belt holding him to her warm belly, she took notice and let go of him and placed her hands on the ground beside his hips before bracing for another go. Anton slowly pulled out, drawing a long low complaining moan, he couldn’t help but moan himself, her slick soft walls trying to hold onto him as he slid out with a pinch on his dick head that rubbed him right. Then he thrusts back producing another wail, and repeats the slow pull and then a quick deep thrust again and again, on and on, each time he thrusts her hands on his back tighten and pinch him a bit, and her hands on the ground tighten as well. Soon he picks up pace until it’s quick repetition of in deep out far nonstop.
Faust was whimpering and elevated pitch every thrust in until she let her speech go. “FUCK ME ANTIE! FUCK THIS WHORE!” Anton ceased immediately to a disapproving Faust trying to stick him back in. Then he spoke.
“Don’t call yourself that.”
“Why!?”
“You’re no whore, you’re way above that.”
“What!?” She asked, he sounded sincere, and bargaining.
“Because when you said that it hurt me, it hurt me to think you feel you’re that low…”
“Wh-Wh-Wha-?”
“I think you’re amazing, absolutely amazing. You’re smart, caring, fun, and beautiful.” She started to tear up. “I’m not drunk, Faust, I really mean that, really I do.” She went wide eyed and her lips trembled. What have I done!?! She began shaking and apologizing but was to scared and listing to move him or herself, then she had to ask why.
“If you knew this… wh-wh-why?”
“Because I want you to feel as special and good as I do with you.” She smiled, he did love her. “So do you feel good with me like this now?”
“Ooh Antie! Yes I do, too! You just made me feel better than ever!” She hugged and pressed him against her belly, uncaring that he didn’t penetrate her vagina that time.
“Soo, Faust… do you want to… keep going?” He asked her feeling her continue to leak into his crotch.
She sniffled somehow from something that’s probably in action of a nose and asked him to please do. “Love me like I’m yours, and I’ll love you like your mine.” He backs down, aligns, and thrusts in back to her grasping walls and welcoming arms holding him to her belly again.
“We don’t have to pretend, we already do.” They sat in quiet for a while, enjoying one another’s sweat, hug, heartbeat, vibrations, skin, metal, pre cums, shaft and well. Then she loosens on his midsection and he goes back to his quick pace from before. He scoots up and down caressing her clit against his stomach, searching for her softest spot. When he does find she exclaims “right there sweetie” leaving him at a weird position, he pounds away with her plush ceiling tickling his sensitive head.
He was about to ask what it was when Faust randomly blurts a question: “You want babies, Antie?” She doesn’t have a legitimate reason on her mind other than it felt right to have them. He presses on thinking about it.
“No, Faust, we aren’t ready.” With that the ceiling stops creeping downwards to have him enter, and pulls back. “But it doesn’t mean we can’t explore!” With that she rockets it back on him. It landed right at the peak of his maximum penetration and slid so gently and smoothly around him with no trouble. Faust lets out a long gasp of ‘aaaaahhhhh’ and instantly is taken away by his surprising size, she couldn’t think sight and touch could even come close to the detail her cervix was giving her mind: every vein pumping blood, the shape and texture of the head, the slick cover on his skin, everything. He was deeply emerged in pleasure and pressure; she compressed around him like no hug could do, and her heat was so immense and welcoming, her excited engine pace rattled their genitals together creating such a good sensation they locked each other deep with her cervix from its base point to the vaginal entrance feeling everything. Anton thought about kids again, he didn’t see anything wrong with trying, so he said he didn’t mind kids, and began swiping up and down her slit that released a well deserving sounding moan. She started to get even tighter around him, he was breath taken but on the slide down he slipped and the air pressure slipped out and as she came he was sucked in by her vacuum from opening cervix walls. It was enough to pin him inside her, releasing none of her vast amount of cum trying to exit and it built up, suspending Anton’s member in a pool of her hot liquid goodness. He felt it swish about his cock, sort of massaging and moving it around, he asked her to keep him here, not to move. She sat there and took in the feeling the fluid pressure had on her walls, gently rocking back and forth, her engine still running and shaking the small pool and her lover’s part still inside her. He could feel his climax approaching, first very slow and small as a feeling then rapid and powerful enough where when he came he moaned loud enough for Faust to here over her engine and moans. Their fluids mixed and welcomed each other, combining and melting in one another, Faust’s pool building still from lust and Anton kept pouring out seamen for an impressive time. Then they say in silence again, until they finally pulled apart with the tidal wash that built up forcing him down.
With all the erotic movements his nose opened up again at some point and was bleeding, Anton saw in the reflecting light Faust’s protruding pussy lips were still pursed together tightly and basic ways to stop bleeding start with pressure, so he spun around, crawled down, and firmly planted his oozing nose in her oozing warmth and enjoyed her chassis shudder in delight. She felt what he was doing and the kisses he occasionally put on or next to her opening and reached down with a manipulator and softly stroked his semi-erected penis. She wondered if she could get her smaller arm-like vagina module down there and tried alternative ways while she stiffened him up with her hand. He smiled very large, not only did he make her feel special, he learned he makes her feel great just being around him, and that she loves him, too, and he closed his eyes when he felt her secondary lips break against his dick head and heard her long sigh of appeasement. He turned his nose left and right slowly, while Faust matched his pace in her own thrusts on his cock, until she sort of bled into his nose and past his face and down at his cock. She felt overwhelmed, her primary slot being pushed and pulled and stimulated by his nose and her secondary probed and prodded and rubbed by his dick, she was oozing on him when she felt his cock stiffen some more and throb before cuming into her, she felt his hot stuffing shoot all around her tunnel and it tingled her insides where it touched but it proceeded no further than where it landed. She came to the conclusion that her cum pool inside her caught all his seamen and drained it out with itself.
Anton removed his head from her passage and wiped her fluid from his mouth and realized he was thirsty. “Let’s have some beer, Faust! It’ll be both our firsts!” He announced cheerfully, she giggled thinking what other firsts they had and pulled the bottle around to his hands. He struggled in opening it, and looking at her still tight lips, got an idea. He grasped it firmly, and shoved his hand and bottle head up into her depths, with some shock she naturally tightened up around it and gritted her teeth at the texture of the bottle cap, she knew it wouldn’t damage her one bit with her lining there meant for some way worse punishment but was elated when he twisted and popped the cap off inside her and removed it all from her insides. He could see some of her fluid mixed into the beer but drank anyway: pouring some into his mouth.
“It’s not bad, I like it.” He put the bottle in Faust’s hand before they heard the man-door open. She reacted as fast as she could but forgetting to lock the man-door took its course and Irish walked in looking for Anton right as she slammed and locked the door millimeters from him.
“O…K… What was that abou-” Irish said looking back at the hastily shut door then at Faust and picked up what was happening. “Well I found Anton… I’ll go now-”
“No! You can’t leave yet!” Faust roars, he stops instantly having turning around to leave when he winced and asked why. “Because you can’t tell anyone!”
“Especially Hansel!” Anton yelled out still chilling under Faust.
“Deal, fine, but this is awkward so can I leave?”
“No, someone’ll barge in when that door opens, not until we’re done and cleaned. Beer?” Faust ordered him; Irish stood there obediently and raised his hand up for the beer she offered. She took a swig then placed it in his hand before he shuffled to a corner to place him away from their sacred meaningful interaction then gulped some down.
“Ah, not bad, but you got some-uh-stuff in it too.” He was referring to that outstanding taste barely recognizable but remembered well from ‘machine love cream’ that Faust shared with the beer and his initial source of the taste. Faust and Anton grinned; Faust grabbed the bottle and gave it back to Anton to finish it off. Anton finishes it off still stuck with his dick in Faust’s secondary that was holding and massaging it gently then kisses her slit again, and pulls out of her and kisses that one too before climbing out still a little wet and got dressed to Faust’s dismay. Once that’s done they send Irish out, he took a sigh of relief and left, then Anton crawled in between her hull and side skirt to kiss her on the lips for a good time. They tasted just like her other lips, and it was very satisfying, then he locked the doors again, sat in his loader’s seat, and asked to fondle her snake vagina. She happily obliged and was played with until she drifted to sleep; Anton kissed her secondary slit then unlocked the doors, laid on her engine, and joined her in sleep.
Fin Chapter 23

Chapter 24
Anton woke up before Faust for once, he had his stretch fest then stood up on the engine roof and looked down at the top of Faust’s turret listening to her soft breaths. He scooted over to her turret skirt and bent down kissing her commander’s cupola before jumping down with new clothes and rushed through a change out then hugged Faust’s hood again then left for food and toiletry. He ate alone so he could think about his Faust and what they’d do after the war. As he left the mess area he heard Kramia crying nearby and searched around to find her, she was sobbing next to a crate marked with German army markings and the symbol for panzer division and a huge warning label on it.
“What’s wrong, Kramia? Are you ok?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” She sniffled then smiled that upset him a tad bit. “How was last night?” He was startled, how’d she know? Why’d she know? Did she know? He looked at her smile and he figured she knew about it. He sighed and told her he wasn’t drunk at all. She backed off but he reassured her he’s fine, and the Irish incident.
“So what’s in the box?”
“M-mm-my new gun.” She said upset about it.
“Oh, well, what’s the warning say?” He asked her, she was in the way of half of it.
“Warning! Do not touch insulated contents with electric spark until placed in position.” She kept sobbing a bit; Mini came up behind her and brought her close to his side, disregarding their extra skirt armor, to hold her tight against him to protect her from despair.
“It’s alright, baby, it’s alright. I’ll make you feel better once it’s over, ok? Or we could go shooting or race, we haven’t raced in a long time, baby.” He saw that his proposals helped, and felt that her hull became statically charged, like when she was horny, she’d want him sexually and even though they’d fucked but once he wasn’t looking forward to sad sex. Faust came up behind Anton and hugged him at his waist.
“Good morning, precious.” She brought him close to her. He twisted around to embrace her hood again and returned the greeting.
“Good morning Faust. How’d you sleep?”
“I slept well, Antie, how did you?”
“I slept good. What did Irish want with me, though?”
“I’m not sure, there he is, why don’t you ask him?” She let him go to run over to Irish moving towards Mini.
“Hey Anton, do you ever calm down?”
“No. Why?”
“No reason-so what’s up?”
“Why’d you come in last night?”
“Mini-Rommel wanted your help.”
“With what?”
“We’ll show you, come on.” The two made themselves apparent to Mini, he whispered to Kramia he’d be back and took them off toward a rotted shack by the woods.
“What’s this?” Anton asked.
“A magical hut with a teleporter inside.” Irish said.
“Sssure.” Mini responded. “No it’s just an old shack with a gift for Kramia.”
“What is it? The gift what is it? I wanna see!” Mini drives around to the back and rips off the wall and gently lays it onto the ground off to the side then moves more inside the shack where a long tarp was covering something equally as long. Anton jumps down and approaches the casement cautiously, Irish slides down the glacis and yanks the tarp off revealing a gray-brown metal beam with empty circle mounts attached. “What is it?”
“It’s a gun rack.”
“For Kramia’s eighty-five. She’ll love it; I need your help painting it that’s why I sent Irish to find you.” As Mini said that Irish discretely shuddered.
“That’s nice, really nice Mini. Is the paint nearby?” Mini gestured to a shelf off to the side. Irish pulled one down and handed it to Anton before grabbing one himself then they started painting the gift. Once that was done they plumped it onto Mini’s engine roof to carry then veiled it under the tarp before heading back to Kramia. By that time the engineers had the metal plate above the gun mantle slide removed and the gun and mantle out on a pallet. Anton looked inside, the light fixture mounted facing in revealed the usual all-white interior but there was brownish color splotches around the seats on the walls and things.
“Kramia, what’s the brown stuff on your walls?” Anton was looking at it intensely.
“That’s the blood of my devil enslavers!” The way she called her crew was ferocious and hated, Anton was going to ask again but she continued. “When I was still in the Russian army I had a crew that cared little I was there, which is how I’d get out to meet and be with Mir. My last day as a Russian weapon was decided by me after a terrible cause. My tank crew took me to a liberated Russian village to woo some girls, when they declined anything sexual my crew took it by force. They raped her, a fellow Russian girl, raped her in front of me! They not only raped her but punished her! They bit her, cut her, pulled her, pushed her… all because she said no. They couldn’t try another girl-oh no-they had to have her. I was horrified, and I hated them. I couldn’t let myself be slaved by them. They raped and pillaged their own women for sex and yet wouldn’t even speak to me! So when they were driving back… I locked them in… then I killed them-but not quickly-no, I first crushed their limbs… then I tore their skin and bled them slowly, one by one I forced my tendrils through their bodies, not deadly at first, then through their hearts and lungs, one by one. I tossed their bodies on the ground and smothered their corpses into the Earth under my treads. I ran away then, I ran and waited for Mir at our little spot. I told him what I did and that I wasn’t going back. Ever.” Anton and Faust looked horrified at this; Mini had already lived down the feeling and Irish… Irish smiled. “May your God have mercy on what they’d do to a German girl.” Marion rolled up to the group interested in how Kramia’s gun was being replaced.
“How’s it going so far?” Hansel came from the direction of the mess tent greeting a good morning before ascending Marion and sitting in her cupola
“Well, it’s going well.” Hansel watched, intrigued as well, as they mechanics opened the box and used a small crane to manually lift, turn, and lower the eighty-eight caliber fifty-six into the level of entry. Irish was staring at Marion’s gun barrel, specifically at her pattern of black and white stripes. His right forearm was bent across his belly and his left elbow rested in his fist, supporting his chin in the joint of his L-shaped hand thumb tucked under and pointer along his nose.
“Hansel those tank kills?”
“Yes, why?”
“Nothing, nothing. Just wait…” He began counting lowering his audibility every count until at seven he was no longer heard. Hansel went back to watching the fitting, they had it just outside the slide depression and everything was slow and steady. The lead mechanic suddenly burst out, shoving the gun in place with a ram of his body while then the two men inside locked the gears together. They all climbed out and stood back from her.
“Alright Kramia, turn your engine.” She whirred up her diesel, loud heavy pistons crunked against their surroundings then as they fired to life she jumped. She watched amazed as the gun began moving up and down with her nervous system’s commands.
“Wow, feels very similar, only a little heavier and longer.” She played a little more, a smile forming underneath it. “I think I’ll like this in time.”
“Oh it gets better, baby.” Mini said as he carried the present above his turret and laid it down ahead if her.
“What’s this?” She said lovingly eyeing its length and thickness under the tarp. “A set of trainer sights?”
“Noooo, why don’t you take a peek?” Mini was smiling in anticipation of her joy, he wanted to throw off the surprise so bad and tell her. She studied a bit longer then snapped the cover away and looked a little confused.
“I… I don’t get it? What is it?”
“It’s a mount for your eighty-five. It goes on your side.” Her face lit up and she rammed Mini lovingly kissing his hull and holding his tracks and suspension to keep him close.
“I LOVE it!” She buried her gun under his and her face against his side as she leaned the two of them together.
“I knew you’d love it. You don’t have to leave your gun you love so much.” She pulled him up to where she was at the side of his turret and whispered to him.
“I’ve got a little thank you present in mind for later.” She said softly and with a dirty smile.
“No, no it’s fine, really nothing.” He said back savoring his time embracing her.
“I need to unwind, Mir, could you do that at least?” Mini sighed and whispered ‘alright’ then held her tight, after checking behind them he gently rubbed the panel covering her port entrance.
“NO THAT’S BULLSHIT!” They all heard Inbred shout from his barrack house as he stormed out red faced with anger. The LTC followed also angered and gave off an aurora of pissed-off feeling that mostly all around felt. “FUCKING HORSE SHIT!”
“He’s cussing in English.” Faust said worried.
“Yep, he only does that when he’s really pissed.” Marion couldn’t see them but could feel the anger and tension behind her.
“Corporal Smith! You come back and cool off!” The LTC stormed after him but couldn’t keep up. In a frustrated and snarling grunt he spun around and headed off towards his office. By that time the Colonel was strolling along toward them smoking his pipe unmoved. He stopped and told the LTC something but the LTC shook him off and marched on in rage. The Colonel shrugged and moved along. He moved up next to Marion and signaled Hansel down. He slid off and moved close next to the Colonel.
“What was that about, sir?”
“I was informed that Corporal R. Smith was too be withdrawn from your crew and moved to a ‘rehabilitation and proving facility’ away from the front.”
“What? Why? He’s not mental, sir, why?”
“It’s basically bullshit cover for he’s going to the experimental testing grounds as an evaluator, I went through the same shit. I told Gunther to tell you to tell him but, I guess he screwed you over and went straight to him.”
“So he’s upset about that.”
“Guess so, Gunther may learn to do as I say after that, anyway talk to him. Smith won’t be leaving until we meet up at the merge point. He’ll be flown out, Irish and the E tank’ll go north by train to something redacted from my note but whatever. Just, just calm him down.”
“Yes sir.” Colonel turned back and moved off towards the barracks while Hansel climbed back onto Marion and told her to help find Inbred with him.
“Okay Hansel. What was that about?” Hansel sighed.
“Inbred’s a ranter, he’ll be complaining about it.” They roamed around until they found him hurriedly pacing around alongside Griffin’s tank house ranting on.
“Inbred, you alright?”
“Bullshit. BullShit! BULLSHIT!”
“He’s fine.”
“Just about to move to the front and they say ‘no you’re going to a testing grounds’ have fun! Fucking assholes!” Marion was confused.
“Why are they taking you?”
“That’s what I’ll ask! I’ll find the fucker who pulled me and ask’em! Better be a god damn great answer if they love their life!” He looked really mad.
“Look, they probably have good reason to do this.” Hansel tried to use some logic, something he’s good at, but it didn’t faze him.
“I think he needs a hug.” Marion said. Hansel slid off and grabbed him in a hug. Inbred struggled against him. Marion rolled up and hugged the two of them.
“It’s not working.” He said sternly.
“Yes it is, you know it.” She said tightening a little bit. It was working, Inbred ended up hugging back and releasing his stress.
“I don’t want to leave, we’re just starting out and I’m leaving before we really fight. You don’t take a fighter away from a fight.” They let go of the hug, he had calmed down enough to be rational.
“Well, I’m sorry Ralph. I am. I know how you feel, too, but who knows? This could turn out good for you, it did for me.” Hansel said reassuringly leaning against Marion’s glacis. He couldn’t help but feel pity for Inbred, and something else for him…
“That was rehabilitation and training, I’ve not been shot nor promoted. Not sure how it’ll play out in my favor.” Hansel frowned, Inbred’s stubborn and not good at hindsight at times. “Why wasn’t anyone else taken? Why me alone?”
“To even the load maybe. Well anyway it’s time to pack up and form up. Come on let’s go you two.” Marion plucked them up and sat them on her roof and went to the barracks to drop them off.
Fin Chapter 24

Chapter 25
The group moved swiftly and fell into a very small battalion formation. The orders went out and soon they were off as the sun broke over the hills. The caravan of tanks, trucks, and cars moved at a slower pace due to Jäger, she hated her poor mobility and wishes she could move swiftly. About an hour in she demanded that Fritz push her along, it helped but not enough for Jäger to not feel like a burden. The tank line up was E, Jäger, Fritz, Marion, Griffen, the dead-metal Tigers, Faust, Mini-Rommel and Kramia side-by-side, with various light-skinned vehicles in the middle of the tanks. Mini was faithfully caressing Kramia’s slit the way she seemed to like it most while not sounding suspicious but silently whimpering and sputtering along at the tail end. The crews were at ease, Fritz’s and Jäger’s crew huddled at the meeting of Jäger and Fritz’s hulls like around a bonfire just talking away while Irish sat against E’s rear turret escape hatch with a notepad and pen scribbling away as nearly as he could and trying to talk to E in a more friendly manner and not about how horny she’d gotten on the way down. Marion’s gang were at their usual spots outside the cabin, Hansel half in his cupola and half on a periscope, Meats sitting in the loader’s hatch, Inbred on the sloping forward roof, Whacker leaning against the gun mantle with Banker in his cabin ‘driving’ like he always did. Griffen’s crew was hanging around his turret on the hull while Faust’s crew was lounging in the turret skirts with the rucksacks as mattresses.
“How long do you think it’ll take before he realizes he’s not doing anything?” Marion whispered about Banker.
“You should fuck with him.” Inbred mentioned, he leaned back and grabbed ahold of a periscope and a hatch, Whacker braced himself. Marion smiled and veered off to the side then corrected herself.
“Hey watch it, stupid!” Whacker shouted amused. Banker was startled a little. Marion slammed on the brakes then started up again trying not to laugh at Banker flipping shit in the operator’s seat.
“What the hell are you doing!?” Inbred cried. Marion wanted to say something but knew she’d be laughing so she kept quiet.
“It’s not me I swear!”
“Whatever, Banker.” Hansel jeered.
“Marion! What the hell’s going on!” Banker sounded legitimately scared, and Marion couldn’t help herself anymore. She burst out laughing, Banker wised up then and was quiet unhappy, sinking his face into a deep frown.
“You’re all assholes.”
The rest laughed away, Banker played with her gearsticks with no effect to her movement. He thought back to his training, it went all against his trai-
“Hey isn’t this supposed to be wheel-steering?” He poked at the sticks. “Yeah this is supposed to a steering wheel and a gear shifter, why the hell is this different?” Marion had no idea what he was going on about. Whacker twisted around and peeked into the hatch and saw that.
“He’s right, that’s supposed to be a steering wheel.”
“I wouldn’t know.” Marion said plainly. “What about the Americans? How do they drive?” Whacker slipped into the radio operator seat below him and switched on the radio and was met by the American radio operator singing Mary had a little lamb.
“No her lamb was raped by Phil.” Whacker called. Their driver instantly sounded.
“Eh I’m a farm boy but I ain’t no critter fucker!” His voice echoed inside Chuck’s hull.
“Whatever, how you drive Chuck?”
“Wit gear sticks, how yall drive?”
“Uhhh, we don’t know.”
“How in God’s name don’t yall know!? Jus lean o’er and take yerself a looksee.”
“Well that’s just it, it’s not like any others as we know.”
“Well hows Marion’s done?”
“Gearsticks.”
“There then bimbo! Zat so hard neah?”
“Nein.” The two crews talked about what had gone on in the last week, the Americans said they got a new M5 Stuart gal named Skip and that Chuck saw Katelyn again for a day. Not much else happened for them other than a skirmish. They found out they need not worry about running into each other, the Germans were assisting with Northern defense while the Americans were pushing in the Southern part of France. They were cut off by a MG42 raining hell on Chuck’s convoy and that’s all they cared to talk about on the week long trek north to the crossroads. There they met an interesting bunch they’d call comrades. At around noon the convoy met up with a village guard that conveyed where the rest of the battalion is.
“I won’t lie sir,” the young man said, “they all give me the creeps.” Marion poked him and he jumped back weirded out, Hansel moved them forward.
“Leave the poor guy alone, alright?”
“I just wanted to fuck with him, it’s pretty funny to see you all react like that.” Once in a expansive lot with no tank houses or any commodities they met the rest of the battalion. There was a JagdPanther, a StuG III G, a Panzer III M, two Hummels, a Grille, a Nashorn, three Panzer IVs, a Panther A, a Puma, an SdkFz. 251, a Hetzer, a Tiger, a Marder II, two JagdPanzer IVs, a Porsche turreted King Tiger, and two more by a street that wasn’t seen too clearly. Hansel met with the acting XO when the two unknown tanks moved out of the clearing.
“Holy-Hansel, Hansel! Hey Hansel!” Whacker cried out to him.
“WHA-” Hansel looked over a little mad then saw the tanks. “Ho-ly shit it’s a Ferdinand!” Sitting in the opening gap between two tanks talking was a war-weathered Ferdinand tank destroyer with a plethora of kill stripes, beside him was a tank that none of the group knew. It had the same chassis as the Ferdinand but it had a Tiger turret with a Pz III storage bin on the back of it mounted right on top of the driver and radio operator almost, it’s rear portion angled in and sloped downward. “The hell’s next to him?” They moved in towards him before they noticed that the two Porsche tanks were rubbing up against each other with manipulators locked together.
“Hello there, Captain. You look amazed.” The tank destroyer sounded old and wise with a ruffled voice. Hansel did look amazed, and so did Whacker. No one else got the hype.
“You still exist?” Whacker said shocked.
“Yes I do, not very males do after a few months.”
“What’s so special about him?” Inbred asked.
“Ferdinands couldn’t move for shit but, they have a ten-to-one kill ratio, they’re fucking awesome as a bunker.” Hansel said.
“He’s got two hundred millimeters of armor, just like me.” The strange tank added. “An eighty-eight, too.”
“Yes, yes I do.” He said.
“That’s a lot of kills.” Marion spoke humbled by his forty-one kill count to her eleven.
“Yes all of its true. Sadly so is the fact that so many machine warriors are female.”
“Why?”
“Well I’ve wised up and saw why. In the Eastern front we got shipments of new guys like nothing, but, they’re all the same. They go out reckless like they’ve something to prove, they overestimate themselves and become careless and stupid. They get themselves wasted in usually two months. Few are exceptions like Canine the Panzer III and I, we go way back and he goes further back than I do. He’s definitely one of the oldest serving machines here. His wife’s Frau, the StuG III, they’ve been upgraded a bit. This here’s Porsha, and I’m Ferdi, we weren’t named very creatively.”
“What are you? I’ve never seen your model before.” Meats asked Porsha.
“I’m the Porsche Tiger design, I was secretly brought into life along with Ferdi and anyone else Porsche made. Porsche doesn’t like us with our lives determined for war only, he calls it breeding, but life is life and I’m enjoying mine.” She leaned into her man Ferdi’s side. Inbred looked satisfied with that. He was called down by the XO and he left quietly. Marion noticed the Porsche turreted Tiger II and couldn’t help but continuously glance back again and again.
“That other King Tiger…”
“What about it?” Hansel asked.
“Something’s attracting me to it, like, like… like it’s part of me. Like… family.” She couldn’t help herself; she departed with Hansel towards it. It noticed her and smiled friendly and welcoming.
“I haven’t seen you in months!” She rushed to embrace a puzzled Marion.
“I-I don’t think we’ve met…”
“Oh you were so clean and new! Little sis is a warrior now.”
“Wait, what? Sisters? Who are you?” Hansel was a little concerned.
“Here I’ll explain this, you haven’t met the Hummels yet so you have no clue about this. We’re considered sisters because we were made from the same mixture and batch and her turret is supposed to be fitted to my hull. But my turret was the last Porsche turret before all Hensel was produced, I watched them assembling you before I was sent off. They told me we were sisters, and that’s why I’m Tiger number five-thirty and you’re Tiger five-thirty-one. I’m sure you don’t remember me, but I remember you.”
“Well, alright, well Hansel here named me Marion and that’s what we liked. Do you have a name for yourself yet?”
“They call me Dora. They’re a good bunch, so’s the rest of the tanks, some of us have been together on the Eastern front.”
“Who all’s from the East?”
“The Porsche pair, the Panzer III and StuG, uuuhhh-the Hetzer, Hummels, the Nashorn, the Panzer IVs, that Panther A, Grille, and I. Oh there’s a motorcycle running around somewhere.” The others were all from the West, the JagdPanther, JagdPanzers, Marder, Tiger, SdkFz 251, Puma; they were all from the Western front. Later Inbred came back sulking and miserable, departure. They all gave their good-byes and good-lucks before he left them in a truck to the airbase. E and Irish had already left for the train depot and by then were loaded and the final checks were being run through.
They tried perking up by talking to some new guys. The Hummels were twins with matching serial numbers and one male named Bumble and the other female named Bee, the JagdPanzers were lovers named Rapture and Vinney, the Panzer IVs were all boys and were called the Three Stooges Moe Curley and Joe, the Grille was a shy girl named Clover, the Puma, SdkFz, and JagdPanther were close together named Kitty, Tiffany, and Rosa, the Hetzer named Squirt never left her lover Bruno who called her Armadillo, the Tiger was named Gertrude and the Panther A was named Anna, the Marder was named Susan, the group was predominantly female, supporting the fact that most males are complacent fighters. They were expected a full infantry support force by morning the next day and were to run drills that morning to noon before shipping out to the front. It was fast freezing in temperature, said by most to be the coldest winter in a hundred years, this is the most vulnerable point of a living machine as their bodies and metal is adjusting and coping with the sudden shift. “God help us through the freeze.”
The next two days for Inbred were stressful, leaving and flying really got him thinking about how he was wronged in his view. He landed a three hour train ride from the test base, and on that train ride he came up with the questions he’ll ask the one who pulled him whether it be a grease monkey or the Fuhrur he didn’t care. He marched to his meeting point, heavy rucksack swinging strongly in his hand and an anger not to be confronted in his piercing gaze that’d tear through a bunker. He swung around the corner into a bunker built into a hill and dropped the bag, all anger and hatred fleeing from his mind as he looks on at beauty. He was whisked away by a calming and gentle womanly voice that pulled him into trust.
“Are you Corporal Ralph Smith?”
Fin Chapter 25

Chapter 26
Hansel and Marion rested under the shade of a steep dried riverbank after battle drills finishing eating some luncheon during the down time. The past three days had been filled with introductions, formalities, and drills. Constant. Drills. But the perks to the drilling was the acceptance of an infantry MG team into the group of Hansel, Marion, Whacker, Meats, and a distant Inbred named Eugene and Karl, they liked to lay on Marion’s rear slanting roof with the MG bipod on the loader’s hatch where they’d be mostly covered, mobile, and free to fuck whoever’s day in in their path. But this constant work prompted Hansel and Marion to drop a load off so-to-say.
“Here looks to be a nice place, Hansel. Quiet and distant.” She eyed him sexually.
“Yes it is, it’ll do just fine, Marion.” He ducked under her gun mantle facing her flank to kiss her intensely. Right as they were about to strip Hansel thunder sounded and the two remembered the predicted forecast. He hurriedly rushed into his seat inside Marion to cover from the rain. “Damnit!”
“Uuuhhhhggg! Well, I’ll start heading back to camp.”
“No, Marion.”
“How? How would we fuck?”
“Remember that one I found in the transmission?” He referred to her internal/forward vaginal tendril.
“That’s there but you know I don’t like it bec-”
“No you’re scared, come on Marion, I’ll be gentle with it.” Marion cautiously moved it up to his chest. Just as slow he gently grabbed it and tugged it against his chest and brought the end to his closed lips. He pushed his mouth against the lips and slowly opened and closed his lips caressing her heating port and softly and gently stroking her tendril from top to bottom of his reach, holding it against his chest. He enjoyed her hull quivering around him, massaging and relaxing his tense body, where he almost didn’t want to stop it. He felt her heat on his face, it was pouring over his head and was circling around the fighting cabin in the turret raising the temperature to where he removed his jacket carefully as not to disturb Marion.
Marion felt relaxed and carefree. Hansel’s soothing lips encouraged her to lie on her belly in the soft sand and close her eyes with her gun lowered all the way so that she was relaxed. She released some of her manipulators to toy with Hansel’s growing cock stuffed in his trousers. Two of them massaged his triangle crotch area on its sides, stroking and caressing its thick full stature inside his pants. After a few minutes of whimpering and dealing with the thought she was being internally fucked she broke and yanked down his pants and removed her tendril from his loving grasp and, to get a good angle, went up and around his neck then down to his waist where she lined his dick up and sat her tendril right down on his dick. The two moaned deep and long, this was new to the both of them and this one was very much tighter on his cock.
“Oh god, Marion! This is awesome!” She began hopping on his dick; something was driving her mad over his sperm. Her internal manipulators strove to feel his body, feel every inch of his beady sweat covered skin just as the rain came to its fullest. Out of nowhere Marion felt her inner cervix and slammed his cock straight through its strangle hold grip against impregnation. It became clear to her what she wanted, ever since that night after the washing she felt this need deep in her.
“Hansel I want children!” His feeling in his cock ceased its stream of feel.
“Wha-what? N-n-no, not as we”re so close to the front. I won’t let you do that to your-”
“Hansel I NEED this!” Her manipulators gripped him there, held him down while her tendril rode his cock like there was no tomorrow. She brought him to about his halfway point when he turned from collective strategizing to panic.
“Marion as much as I’d love to pump your pussy full of my cream it CAN’T HAPPEN!”
“IT! WILL! HAPPEN!” She sounded sadistic almost, like she was bent on impregnating herself with her figurative husband but not full husband yet. He panicked, struggling against her immovable grip on him he lost it.
“MARION! STOP IT! STOP IT NOW!” No matter what he screamed she didn’t listen. He threatened to leave her, even, but sadly he knew that she knew he’d NEVER do that to her. It came to the point of no return, he was about to spill his sperm into her to fill her womb, and Hansel was terrified. Marion felt his readiness and her jumps up became more sporadic; and careless. He was literally on the brink when she slipped off; he pulled his hips back as fast and strongly as he could just as she launched her pussy down for the final thrust. Hansel knew it wasn’t enough; he’d failed his brothers in arms and Marion, no combat for them. Before Hansel could move for another action Marion screamed in pain and her tendril reeled in response;
Hansel’s dick head was jabbed into her clit bulb with a tremendous force enough to cause Marion a shock of pain. The pain forced her release her grasp on Hansel and he moved with a purpose collecting his clothes and bolting out of the hatch just as Marion started weeping again.
“I’m so so so sorry, Hansel! Please don’t go! Please! Please! Please! PLEASE! Please don’t go I didn’t mean anything please! I couldn’t stop at all! No don’t leave me! Please! No! Please!” Hansel looked at her eye frightened, she was looking back into his eyes with silver streams of tears and a desperate and apologizing look in her eye. He knelt down and embraced her side still missing pants, but cared little if at all.
“Don’t let it happen again.” She sniffled.
“Alright, handjobs, blowjobs, and pipe from now on?” She sounded little more cheery.
“Heh heh, yeah, sure baby.” He kissed her Sudetenland looked back to her, wiping her tears away with his hands. “You know, I don’t think you finished in there.” He smiled devilishly. He hopped back in grabbing her pussy in his seat and hoisting it to his mouth where he ate her out good enjoying her tight grasp on his tongue.
He ate her and ate while the rain passed, at least until she passed out in exhaustion. His lips were sore and his cock ached to the point of painfully demanding satisfaction. As she was slipping into her sleep stages his lust built a dirty plan in his mind, he’d wait for her to fall into her deep sleep then he’d fuck the shit out of her tendril unless she starts waking up or locking onto him, then he pull out and scramble back from it. He waited for her suspension to creak softly, signaling her body fully resting in that position she laid in, and once he heard it over her tired breaths, he smiled mischievously. He found it lying on the floor under her gun breech. He crawled under and pinned it down with his body, inching his way up until he felt the pulses of heat from her exit on the tip of his dick. He cautiously pressed his cock against her folds and finally enjoying her tight pussy without fear of her seeding herself with him. He shoved it into her tight, soaked, hot, throbbing pussy moaning all the way, Marion grunted and shifted a bit, startling Hansel who stayed put despite his better judgment, before she sighed and Hansel going back to his sleep sex. He could feel her faint tugging at his dick, cervix was still open so he had to pull out before he finished, but moved on and slowly pushed in, then pulled out, enjoying and savoring her insides, every inch of it, before the fact he was about to cum hit him fast. He pulled out with a rush and clasped on his cock unsure where to cum. He looked around until he used a spent shell casing that made his sperm disappear in the black interior of scorched brass. Then he dressed as the rain ended and Marion woke.
“Auuuhg! Ah, well. Call me a dirty girl all you want but I dreamt you were fucking me all nice and slow, graceful almost.” Hansel choked partly.
“Oh-um MMHHUURM, well that’s called a wet dream.”
“I enjoyed it thoroughly.” Hansel was glad he dodged the bullet there. Then they decided they were away from camp long enough and trekked back to the town square to a surprise.
When they got there they instantly noticed that Jäger was alone at the gate, she’s always with Fritz so this alarmed the pair.
“Jäger where’s Fritz?”
“He was called to support defend an ammo depot down the road a little ways… it’s been a while.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.” They moved in and got to their little spot just in time for Jäger to storm by with Fritz’s crew clamped against the back wall of her superstructure. “Jäger are you alri-”
“She’s just upset.” Fritz interrupted, he was towing something vaguely familiar behind him but the many additions to the collection of shot marks on his front meant there was heavy combat.
“Fritz… who is that?” Hansel noticed that he was towing a Sherman but something about it was off.
“I don’t know who she is, but I know she’s just a child with no parents around.” He pulled up where they could see her turret face and forward hull, Fritz was towing her backwards.
“Awww, she’s adorable!” Marion smiled friendly towards the orphan. Then she pouted when she saw that the girl was holding what looked to be a small Sherman gun barrel to her curved glacis plate and that a large caliber shot separated it from the rest of the gun ahead of the mantle.
“How do you know that it’s a girl, Fritz?” Hansel asked, the little child didn’t talk, and there weren’t any markings of female on the hull.
“One of the Americans was screaming ‘leave her alone’ before the infantry shot him dead. The Pak crew wanted to kick her in the ass and use her for target practice. We intervened before they could get to her.” She was little for a Sherman, barely bigger than Canine the Panzer III, she was a M4A1 model with a nice clean look to her overall. Marion found her round hull and turret cute and her bulges for the two hull crewmen like baby fat boobs. She wanted a child so badly and to nurse and care and raise one so desperately that she felt she had a motherly obligation to watch over this child.
“What’s your name sweetie?” She asked in English in a friendly tone. The child glanced into her eyes sporadically, then back down ashamed, then she’d quiver and nudge away from Marion. “You do have a name, right?”
“S-S-S-SSS-Cindy.” She stuttered out terrified. Marion got close to her and used some manipulators to hold her tight in a hug and to pet the top of Cindy’s turret.
“There, there, don’t be afraid. We won’t hurt you here; we’ll take care of you.” Cindy started to calm down and lean into Marion’s comfort. “Do you have parents, Cindy?” She glanced to Fritz coldly as if he might have killed them.
“I did…” She began, she sounded like she was about to cry. “B-bbut one day, (sniffles) thththey went to fight…” She started breaking down, then as she was about to begin again she started wailing and crying and sobbing into Marion’s side. Marion inferred the rest.
“How old are you?” Marion asked to move her away from losing her parents.
“I’m three years old… How old are you?”
“I’m not a year old yet.” It hit Hansel that he was technically a pedophile to the extreme.
“How are you so big?”
“I wasn’t born like you were, I was built in a factory, I’m all grown up. I wasn’t ever a child like you are.” Hansel sighed reassured. “Did you have a home?” Rosa rolled up seeing a Sherman in distress and pain and wanted to watch.
“That’s where we were going. They were taking me to another army where two other Shermans would take care of me.”
“What army is that? Do you know where it is you were supposed to go?”
“Yes, outside of Metz. We were meeting the third army.” Rosa’s faceplate mantle lit up at the mentioning of the third army.
“We should get you there! I could escort you there!” She blurted out dreaming of Joshua.
“No no, it’s too far we’d need fuel trucks and that’s more of a one way trip. Why are you so eager to go see more Shermans? You hate them more than any of us here.” She was silent afterwards. It involved her past and that was something she told no one.
“Well we’ll take care of you Cindy, until we can take you back to where you belong safely.” Marion told Cindy, she looked around at all the German tanks, she hunkered back into Marion’s hold like Marion was her mother her whole life as Marion told the others that she was going to care for her and not to touch her at all. “Cindy don’t be afraid, if any of them hurt you you come tell me. Okay sweetie?” Cindy nodded her mantle. The StuG came over and figured what was going on and then noticed Cindy’s gun problem.
“Awww come here precious! Did the mean guy hurt your gun?” She spoke English surprisingly well. Cindy looked at her gun in her hands and nodded again. “Well I’ll fix you, darling. Come with me and you’ll be better before you can say butterscotch!” Cindy perked up and giggled.
“Butterscotch!”
“Go on Cindy, that’s Frau. She’s our tank doctor she’ll help you repair.” Marion told her, she gently pushed her towards Frau’s open arms and with some encouragement Cindy went off with Frau that was cheering her up with years of wisdom under her bolts.
“You’re helping, Hansel.” She said.
“Only a little, I’ll help out but you’re raising her for when we have her. I’ve already raised an orphan.”
“Do you think Anton would like her?”
“What like dating? Who knows? I think she’s too young, mentally.”
“Maybe, but as a friend?”
“Oh yes, definitely. He’ll befriend anyone nice like her.” There was a pause while everyone else went about their business then Marion spoke.
“It’s not there anymore. That want, it’s gone.”
Fin Chapter 26

Chapter 27
Irish ducked under the camouflage net draped over E for the train ride to the harbor. He watched the rising moon dawn over the tree line whizzing by at full train speed with a sense of home and comfort awakening deep inside, oh how long he hasn’t felt that. He moved through the net at E’s side silent under the track’s and train car’s rattle and clatter then made himself known to E once he was by her driver compartment’s side.
“Oh, hey Irish. Why are you here?”
“Why not? No one else to talk to around here.” There was a pause. “Relax E, come on lower yourself onto the bed.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Yes you can, you had a long journey and now it’s your time to relax. Now lower,” she lowered herself a tad bit, “lower,” she complied, “all the way down, till your belly’s on the floor.”
“I can’t lower any more than this.”
“I call bullshit.”
“What do you not know how my suspension works?” She remembered he’s used to torsion bar, she’s torsion bar with hydraulic cross bars that limit her depression. She didn’t feel like explaining it, though. “Just look, you’ll see.” He shook his head and glanced at her.
“Better have something otherwise you’re a guy.” Then he ducked down and peered through and saw her hull resting on horizontal bars. “So you’re not a guy. That’s good.”
“Why would you say I’m a guy?”
“Well they don’t like to lay on their bellies because of their thing.”
“Mmm that thing sure sounds good right now.” She closed her eyes and smiled wide. Irish sat down and leaned into the net then rushed forward onto his knees and glanced into his lap.
“Ah that’s great.” She moaned again, Irish figured she might have been fingering herself. “Why do you share this sex shit with me?”
She didn’t answer him.
There was only the noise of the train on its tireless journey to their destination. Irish looked at E’s hull with the glistening moon light, admiring her clean, new look that he admired on Jäger back when she was new. He studied over her edges and angles, the curves and turns, the bends and breaks, the shapes and forms. He admired it all passionately. He scanned her over again and again and again taking mental notes of different key features like her sixty degree sloping bow, then her huge glacis plate at least twenty centimeters thick without the angle boost, then her mantle with its six fume extractors that went around her bell mantle that reminded him of a loaded revolver with the bullet heads sticking out, and her cheese grater gun muzzle break, her rangefinder bulges on her turret sides, her thick faceplate that’s thicker than her glacis, her drive sprockets put at the front and rear of the tracks with no idler wheel, her eight huge road wheels per side, her engine exhaust system peeking over her hull stern. He had a keen eye for detail and loved looking at machines, especially the one in front of him then.
“How do you know so much about guy tanks?” She blurted out after a while of Irish scoping her out.
“Me and Fritz are closer friends than it looks.” She closed her eyes again. Irish sighed and murmured “A lot closer.” She went back to her moans and fantasies. Irish listened and couldn’t stop the grin from forming on his face. His mind was on its strange journey of thought; no one really got his thinking process right or could make sense of it unless they thought long and deep, trying to venture into his mind, to understand him more. He was always quiet and when he is quiet he’s thinking, just thinking. “You’re pretty bent on a tank. Why?”
“They’re big, strong, lasting, tough, and filling. Planes are too frail, trucks are too needy and tiny and frail, ships are too big and cumbersome and can’t last like a tank.”
“Have you thought about men? They’re easier to come by.”
“They fail at it all. They’re small, weak, needy, flimsy, quick, and couldn’t come close to my size.”
“You know it changes size, right?”
“Hard or soft it doesn’t matter, still not big enough.”
“That’s not it.” He dropped his head into his lap again then rested for a while, listening to the train’s noise. He picked his head up and rested it in his usual L hand shape. “Edwards is into trains.” She opened her eyes and looked at him.
“He is? That must be kinda boring.”
“Yeah he’s into American trains more. What’s boring?”
“The sex.”
“What’s with you and sex? It’s like every other topic involves sex.”
“What’s so bad about that? And you said he was into them right after talking about sex partners.”
“Can you change subjects easy?”
“Not sex subjects. Now I’m thinking, a night with a train could be filling.” He remembered how Marion filled the sky with her pleasured cries the night E came.
“Hansel fills Marion pretty good.”
“How do you know that?”
“Remember the night you arrived? All that screaming and moaning?”
“Oh that was a good fingering for me. You get off at all?”
“Hhhhuuuuh why do you ask?”
“Because I put myself in her place! I thought she was being hammered by a tank! Now how did you feel!?”
“God damn it woman! I was turned on, yes, but no I didn’t do anything! Are you happy now?”
“No I want some tank dick in my mouth and cunt right now!”
“Ah so you like three ways?” He switched to a taunting mood. She stopped and thought.
“…Maybe… what of it?” She asked a little surprised of herself. He chuckled softly.
“No reason. We’ve all got our ticks.” He looked in her large brown eyes and watched them close shut again. I’ve got mine. He whispered under his sigh. He looked up over her and saw the bright moon over E’s turret so beautiful and brilliant. He finally felt it again, that home feeling, and it was mixed with another; and even though E was boisterous, proud, outspoken, free minded and strong willed, he found love for her and hoped that she could hopefully see this and maybe rethink her desires to be a little more realistic. He sat and watched silently as she fell asleep where he crawled out of the net and went to his bunk for some rest. He slept straight through the morning and woke up for lunch before rejoining E to keep some company between them. Their conversations were predictable and constant; one time however it was on why Irish was selected to guide E and his short naval career on a heavy battlecruiser.
“I know the one awaiting us at port.” She said curiously. “Which one did you serve on?”
“Her name was Prinz Eugen.” He said confidently.
“Well isn’t that good for you!”
“Why’s that?”
“She’s at port for us.”
“Awesome. Why do they tell you everything and not me?”
“They trust me.”
“Why not me? I’m ain’t told jack diddly shit!”
“You don’t need it.”
“Ehh I don’t. I just do what I’m told.”
“Hmmppff.” She thought to herself blow me and was curious to his response. “Anything?”
“Probably.”
“Blow me.” He looked up dazed and confused.
“Why? How? You went from never with a human to asking a blowjob from me, how?” She was laughing. “I will-sure-but…why?” She laughed harder. He wasn’t too sure what to do.
“No, never!” She blurted in between laughing spells. “Just a joke!”
“I was thinking you were getting desperate.” He smiled and thought how close he came to going down on her. It was the last night on the train, the last of five nights. He’d gotten to know her cues as to when she was pleasing herself; she narrows her gaze and tenses up around her eyes, raises up her stern a little and rocks forward and back probably on her makeshift cock, and pulls her lips tight and wide, sometimes if she gets real into it she’ll close her eyes that usually leads her into a thin smile and her eyelids to flutter. Irish has seen this a lot on the train ride and knew she’d been doing something when she’d moan and sigh randomly when he’d be talking or eating food with her so after a few times he caught on. At night he saw that her head light would flicker as if it had a faulty wire or the bulb wasn’t screwed in all the way. When she was holding it in for a greater feel she coiled her one-twenty-eight back, clenched her teeth and spread her lips menacingly and clenched her eye shaders down in the front, her stern would shake softly then vigorously as her orgasm’s climax progressed. Then her stern would jump up and down discretely like she was humping his rod for the final chance at sending him deep into herself. He’d only seen that once shortly after they talked about various sex topics for hours on end. He guessed that she would be even more aggressive with herself if he wasn’t there. He watched her start slowly tonight, she must have been in the slow and steady mood tonight, and smiled as he predicted her clues perfectly in countless times to study in only a few weeks of knowing her.
This night was just slow and steady, relaxed, for E, and Irish was going to tell her when she finished all about her signs and routine but when she finished she threw off Irish; she lowered herself as low as she could and went right to sleep. No mumbling or checking what’s around her, she just went to sleep in front of Irish. He waited to see if she’d wake up, after about ten minutes he got up. He approached her hull and simply admired her huge body, pulled his right cheek into a grin and rubbed her cheek and whispered to her before he patted her again and went to his bunk.
“Goodnight and sweet dreams, my sweetheart. See you in the morning.”
Fin Chapter 27

Chapter 28
Frau had gotten Cindy’s gun back into place after a few tries. It still had the huge shot gap, courteous of Alter Fritz, but Frau had taught her how to use her tendrils to form a shell to heal it back together again before mounting it in a cast system for her. Faust was strolling around and flirting with Anton when she saw Frau, Canine, Marion and Hansel with a little Sherman.
“Hello guys, who’s this?” She smiled at Cindy friendly and Cindy’s face lit up opposed to what the others thought.
“You look like my old friend!” She exclaimed in English. Frau translated for Faust. Frau was interested in this.
“Who’s your old friend sugar muffin?”
“He looked a lot like she did! He had that face and body but he had a thicker gun and he didn’t have that other stuff on him. Why does she have it?”
“It helps her, she has more armor. Where was your friend last?”
“Africa! We played in the sand all the time! Momma taught him English sometimes. His momma tried to teach me some but it didn’t work too well.”
“Do you remember their names, sugar muffin?”
“Yea! He was Geoff and his momma was just called Zwie (Zwei). That means two.” Frau asked if she knew any more German and she started counting and saying generic phrases.
“Inbred’s missing out.” Hansel said.
“Yeah he is. You think he’s found one yet?” She asked as she wrapped around his waist.
“I think he’s having a time.”
———–
Meanwhile…
“Are you Corporal Ralph Smith?”
He was dumbfounded; this girl tank in front of him was the most beautiful tank he’d ever seen. He wasn’t into them like Hansel, but this girl, this girl could be an exception.
“Y-Yes, I’m the guy.” He stared over her, she was really wide with a curved bow without a hull gun, her armored skirts were also curved that way too, then her turret, he admired that turret with his heart in his throat. Her hazel eyes looked at him with a turret face that sloped on the sides like the Henschel Tiger II turret but her front looked Krupp designed. She had a rangefinder on her roof integrated halfway into her turret with a battleship box style housing and a periscope for her huge… gaping gun mantle mount hole.
“Good. Terribly sorry I pulled you from the front. I know your name so you might want mine, I’m Eryka. A new StandardPanzerKampfWagon E-100.” She smiled bearing her teeth under her turret gun mantle mount.
“Uhh… sorry for asking but-where is your gun?” Her face lit up like she just remembered.
“That’s what you’re deciding tonight.” He was confused. “Here, look,” she rolled up to him, he was frozen with butterflies running amuck in his chest. She picked him up and sat him down on her hull hatch to look him in the eye, “I don’t have a gun yet because there are two options for me and I couldn’t decide. So tonight you’re going to help me.” He nodded and she smiled. “Thanks, it’s between a one-twenty-eight and a fifteen centimeter. They have a seventy-five as a secondary for both but that’s final there.” He didn’t care at that time, he just loved looking at her, her beautiful smile and eyes on a Dunkleglab base coat. Hansel was right, I did find somebody. They elaborated on what would be going on during their cooperation. He eventually climbed in through the gaping hole and saw the thickest slab of metal ever protecting his face from whatever would be shot at it, then he sat in the roomiest tank he could imagine. Eryka had ample space for Inbred to fully live inside her cabin with a twin sized bed, the seats as chairs for reading and the turret overlap next to his seat as a desk or counter, a small stove at the engine firewall, probably a bathroom somewhere, he saw her more as a sexy mobile home than a fierce warrior. He sat inside her gazing around at the range finder view port, the periscope view, a Machine pistol port on the right and left sides of the turret, an escape hatch in the back, and then his erected cock throbbing in his pants. So this is how Hansel feels… lucky bastard. He explored her until a heavy truck backed into the hanger with modified bomb trollies hauling guns fit for destroyers.
“Jesus do they get any bigger!?” Inbred was absolutely startled by their size. The driver snickered something about a rat then mentioned the guns alone weigh more than the truck. Inbred looked at the guns then at Eryka who was sporting a lovely smile. “Is everything around here God sized!?” He thought about the term everything and hoped her pleasure spot wasn’t huge.
“No a few things are small.” He looked back overwhelmed by the two guns ready to mount and then around at the crew assembled to fit the selected gun to Eryka. The 128 gun was longer than the 15cm but was thinner and less imposing. The 15cm was larger and he felt that the space it’d take up would make her feel more like Marion. He looked at them and pictures them on Eryka and after much time he selected the 15cm with the reason in his mind as it made Eryka look sexier. The crew began working while Eryka picked up the huge gun effortlessly with what looked like flimsy arms, the hanger became hot with the amount of body heat excreted by the men working to the point Inbred removed his jacket.
“Damn! String bean!” She looked at his thin arms dangling from his broad shoulders.
“What about ’em?” He glanced at them and hoped they weren’t a turn off for her.
“We need to put some meat on them bones, Ralph!” He prayed she could fall for him still. He mentally prayed the whole time the crew fit the gun to her and as they left, he prayed until she shut the hanger door with a slam. He jumped from his mental state and felt his loins kick on as he focused on her new look.
She noticed him eyeing her and took the first step. After all he was a cute little thing. “Like what you see?” Unconsciously he nodded. She giggled softly as he realized he was nodding.
“So-eh-um-uh, uh now what?” She thought about it, not really much productive things to do that late at night.
“Hmmmm.., get some damn weight on you! How do you do anything with those?” She poked his thin arms. “You’ve got real nice broad shoulders, good for building muscles. You won’t walk awkward like Heinz does.” Inbred went onto the defense of himself.
“Hey I’m stronger than I look,” she raised an ‘eyebrow’ at him, “I’ve worked all my life like this, I can throw and heave hay bales all day. I can and I will prove it.”
“Then it’d be more in your chest muscles, but you still don’t look big there, neither.” She watched as he lifted up his shirt and it hit her that she got his shirt off like that, she felt a little hot under the armor.
“I swear I am strong. I’m stronger than I look.” She looked him over.
“Neh, doesn’t look like it, still a string bean.” He frowned; he was thinking how to prove it. “How heavy were the bales?”
“Easily a hundred, some, but they vary per time of year. Some are heavier than me.” It hit him there; Eryka also came up with a test.
“Do a pull up.” She turned her gun over and held it out for him. He studied how he’d hold on to that, unlike hay bales this didn’t have binding string to grip. He jumped up and got a good hold, but inched up more to the top, and then he did some pull ups. Eryka initially watched his muscles form and appear out of magic but soon was mesmerized by his appealing body. She caught herself just before she would of started drooling to agree he had muscles. He dropped down and put his shirt back on. Eryka winced as he put the shirt on, almost reaching out to make him stop.
“See? I’m plenty strong.” He wiped his reddened face of sweat. Eryka wanted him, she did make the right choice for him as a gunner, and she wasn’t letting him go without her. She needed to get him to stay, she used Marion on him.
“What was your tank’s name?” He answered. “How’d you feel about Marion? Like impression wise, was it interesting or appalling?” He sat down on a crate and looked up to think. Eryka peeked down his shirt at his flexing body.
“Uuhhhh.., at first frightening. I mean I’m very quizzical, I noticed some things that just never made sense. We were talking of a name for her before she came out and she was disgusted by it, showed a crease in the turret. Then her gun would act up at times, I’ll get back to that, and Whacker was running to us from her radio and we got to her already started; Whacker didn’t have time nor knowledge how to start her. But the gun, Hansel ordered me to fire upon a Sherman but the gun was kicking when I hit the cable pull. That was her second biggest give away.”
“What was the biggest, then?”
“You don’t normally hear moaning and loud engine roars from the garage at night.” Eryka panicked, she didn’t want to blush or give clue she wanted him.
“That ought to do it.”
“It did, and I put them all together and was right the next morning; Hansel made her show herself.” Eryka inched closer.
“So how did you feel about them two?”
“As friends I would be fine, but they’re lovers so that offset me greatly. I mess up at all and Hansel could be mad, trust me he’s not at all nice mad and especially not when it comes to protecting her. So I was flustered and cautious, but it was all still weird and conflicting, but..,”
“But what?”
“Some people can make a heart change at a glance.” Eryka forced herself not to smile as big as she would have; she knew she did it to him. He was pissed way off as he stormed in but he did a whole one-eighty turn when he saw her. She changed him. He got up off the crate and she probably came out a little too much for her liking.
“No wait don’t go!” He turned to her. “Not yet, why not stay a little longer?” He looked into her beautiful eyes and couldn’t leave, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay next to her as long as possible. He walked over to her side and climbed onto her skirt.
“Let’s get used to the feel, then.” She nodded and helped him up on the turret, he climbed in and sat at his seat, cramped a lot like Marion but still significantly larger. She fired up her engine so he’d know what it’d feel like and to see how her new gun was responding; the life metal was slowly aligning to her and it felt numb. Not long then, Inbred was asleep, rocked by Eryka’s massive engine, and cradled by her warmth. She killed her engine, got low on her suspension and locked up, then fell asleep in the cold bitter air that has ensued them.
Fin Chapter 28

Chapter 29
Marion woke up shivering, she felt weak, brittle, and open. Hansel was sleeping in a heavy sack on her engine roof; she woke him up with fright in her voice. He woke up and instantly tried calming her and finding out what troubled her. Soon Cindy, too, rolled to them shivering.
“M-M-M-M-Mar-r-rr-rion, I’m c-c-c-cold! Could w-w-we hu-hu-hu-hud-d-d-ddle?” She was shivering worse than Marion, because of her smaller size and thinner skin. Marion welcomed her over and pulled her close to share their body heat that they generated. “R-R-Run y-y-y-yer eng-gg-gine.”
“Why, dear?” Marion asked as Hansel tried to spread his spare sheets and jackets over them. Cindy was puzzled then understood.
“Oh this your first winter,” She was warming up fast and snuggled against her massive overseer, “momma said that when winter comes we get cold and weak. We need time to adjust to it before we’re comfortable. Just wait a few days and we’ll feel better.” Marion stroked the top of her turret.
“You feel better, darling?” Cindy nodded.
“Mommy and daddy would put me between them so I’d feel better.” Marion said she felt better as well and turned her engine on very low to save fuel, Hansel laid back down in his spread out sleeping back and enjoyed her engine lulling him to sleep.
————————–
E looked up at the huge battlecruiser Prinz Eugen and felt small for the first time. She had her mouth agape and her lust skyrocketing over the twenty-eight centimeter guns. She got wet as she enviously stared at those eight guns. She couldn’t help but cower and lower her hull.
“Feel small?” Irish asked from behind her in a playful smile. E didn’t answer right away but with:
“I want those guns..,” she drooled over them; Irish looked over her as he strode past her and hoped that Eugen wouldn’t turn her sexuality.
“I fired them way back, well aligned them to what I was told.”
“What else?”
“Well, I aligned the guns, fired them, used the rangefinders in the turrets, and turned the turret. Well not at one time, I’d switch roles for the duties.” He looked at her and noticed she was genuinely interested by him. “You wanna know how it all works?” She nodded fast without removing her gaze from him. He explained how it all works as they waited for direction. Then a cocky and stuck up enlisted first class seamen walks up and tries to boss them around. Irish smiled down at the loud speaking overstepping kid.
“I said move, tanker.” He snickered. Irish stopped E before she could do anything.
“Kid let me tell you something, I out rank you and you will address me as such.” The seamen narrowed his eyes at him.
“You sit on my base, under our order, you listen to me.., sarge.” Irish pulled some papers from his ID pouch and slid down off E.
“Look here, I outrank you, seamen first class, and you will respect me as such.” He showed him identification that denoted Irish as Chief Gunnery Officer. The enlisted’s face looked horrified and instantly snapped to attention.
“My apologies, sir.”
“At ease.” He asked again where he was to go and was taking E there. “Oh and next time you confront anybody, you show respect, seamen.”
“Sir yes, sir.” He led E to the direction given.
“How? I don’t get it.”
“I’m a higher rank in the Wehrmacht, but first I was an honor grad at camp and highly liked by the officers, and Eugen, and rose fast into chief gunner officer, it’s about Sergeant First Class.”
“How do you have it still?”
“Well due to some recommendation by officers that went up and up I was found by some tank generals and soon I was volun-told to switch. I was moved over and promoted to First Sergeant as compensation. Actually I left her my uniform; I might get that back while we’re here.” They stuck to the path when Irish veered her off.
“Why?”
“Fuck that they want us next to the shit loaded last, I’m taking us up front.” He took her to the bow where Eugen instantly spotted him. They were ordered on by Eugen instantly, and E was taken to the stern for more operating space. Irish was met by her with intensity.
“My little gunny!” Eugen sounded in his head and E’s. “You came back!” She hugged him discretely as he stood near the rear turret, he stroked her arms.
“You miss me?”
“Hell have I missed you! You aren’t leaving again are you?”
“Sorry but we’ll be leaving in a few days. You’re the boat?”
“Ship.” Irish and Eugen said in unison. “Aww, really?” Eugen asked.
“Yup, sorry. I missed you, and the sea, so much.” E watched and listened, she knew how to mentally think to each other, and thought to herself alone. Are they together or something? How can she even think about him? They’re so small and that’s for me, I’m small to her so how would he even be worth full to her? It’s wrong; she should have a ship, a real man for her to ride. At least she’d feel him. She looked at them somewhat disgusted, yet also somewhat intrigued. What draws them together like that? She wasn’t sure. She shook it off and looked out towards the sea.
Fin Chapter 29

Chapter 30
Marion was holding Hansel up to her side as they were refueling her, a little thing about the size of her turret came up to her side.
“Good morning Hetz.” The Hetzer nodded.
“Have any of you seen Aston? I haven’t seen him since sundown yesterday.” Hansel and Marion thought.
“I think I saw him going down to the town. I’m not too sure; it might have been someone else.” Hansel said. Marion squeezed him a little.
“Okay, thanks. What street?”
“Can’t remember.”
“Do you know, Marion?”
“No I don’t.” The little Hetzer looked disappointed. Her green eyes were in the vision slots on her hull face. Her mouth sat about the gun’s level when it was parallel to the ground. She turned her little chassis around and went to go ask other people. “Hansel we weren’t supposed to say anything!”
“I tried! It’s instinctive, Marion.”
“We weren’t supposed to know anything, he trusted us with this.”
“I know but how hard is it to find condoms?”
“What if that’s not her gift to him?”
“It was your gift to me, and you said yourself you didn’t have much to give.”
“I’m not that creative. I could have made something if I had an idea. Maybe she’s creative.” Hansel looked her in the eye.
“He was too excited for it not to be sex.” Marion rolled her eyes. “Cindy’s coming back.” Marion looked where Hansel was, Frau was escorting her to Marion while checking to make sure Cindy’s new barrel splint was holding well.
“Mom look!” Marion froze and thought again. What? Did she.., call me mom? “Marion look! I got a new spint!”
“Splint, Cindy, it’s a splint.” Frau corrected her. Marion looked at it; it was Cindy’s shade of green and looked like a picket fence was wrapped around her little gun. Underneath was the shiny silver metal growing back into place to reattach her gun.
“I can feel my gun again!” She rolled up to Marion’s side.
“You can? So you can feel this?” She used a finger to circle Cindy’s gun muzzle. Cindy giggled then laughed.
“Stop! That tickles!” Hansel smiled at her. Marion found out that her gun muzzle was ticklish when they tried putting bushes all over her as an ambush camouflage. Marion stopped and complimented her new gun splint. Cindy then went over to a pile of snow and toyed with it, she’s been toying with it ever since it started to snow. Hansel and Marion went over to the bunks and fetched Whacker, Banker, and Meats before they went off for training that day. Hetz also went, even without a commander. The Colonel said it’d be good for her to practice being more aware of her surroundings.

Cindy looked at the snow pile; she sculpted the front round and beveled the top of the other sides. She left two rumps on the frond and put a stick below the right rump. She went off towards the hill she would collect her snow from and got a hefty sized ball and placed it in the middle of the set snow pile. She was getting a thick stick from a tree near the road to the city when she spotted a lone figure walking down the road towards her, it was pulling a small sled with things on the back.
“Hey! You!”
“Hey there, Cindy!” The figure jogged over and ducked behind her. “Did they go train?”
“Yes. I kept my promise!”
“You did?”
“Yeah, I did. I didn’t tell anyone!”
“That’s great.”
“What did you get?”
“I got some wrappers, some sweets, a cake, some blankets, beer and a coin.”
“Whadya get for me?” She asked childishly. The man turned to the sled and lifted the cover, rustled through a box and pulled out a chocolate bar.
“I got you this!” He handed it to her. “You’ve never had anything like German chocolate, nothing comes close!”
“Thanks, Aston!”
“You earned it, it cost me six bucks for that.” Aston started to the barracks when Cindy stopped him.
“Were there any big sticks on the road?” Aston turned around and rustled through the stuff again.
“No, but I have these you can use.” He handed her four long poles that went to a winter shelter. “What are they for?”
“You’ll see later.” Aston went back to the barracks and set up for the others to return. When they did they were anxious to see if Aston was back. Hetz was the first back; she was caught off-guard as Aston jumped up onto her stern slope and surprised her. “I’m back.”
“Holy-!” She instinctively threw him off but half-heartedly. She realized who he was and grabbed him before her push could throw him over Faust (who was behind her) and land on Canine. Aston just had a jolt back and was held over the ground. “Aston you scared the shit out of me!”
“I saw.” She pulled him to her roof and hugged him.
“Happy birthday, baby! Did I hurt you?”
“No, my chest hurts like a bitch actually. Otherwise I’m fine.”
“I’m sorry, baby.” She massaged his chest. The hatches opened and the sweaty crew emerged. They looked towards the barracks and beheld the kegs of beer that appeared there. Whacker had Marion’s hatch open and they were downwind.
“Guys.., do you smell it too?” Sniffing noises came from Marion’s mantle.
“Yeah, what is that?”
“That’s German beer, brewed to perfection in a German highland brewery and fermented to perfection!”
“Marion meet Whackaholic, the other form of Whacker.” Meats said as he leaned against the inside of Marion’s turret. Hansel had a damp rag to his forehead, in one of the maneuvers Marion hit the brakes and stopped hard while Hansel was in the cupola. Hansel did not stop.
“Yay, Whackaholic.” Was all Hansel said. Soon a small celebration began. They weren’t just celebrating Aston’s birthday, they were also celebrating the Major’s promotion but above all they were celebrating their orders: move to the front and support an offensive. Meats was still in Marion’s turret with his cover low over his eyes.
“Meats, you going to join us?”
“Nah, I’m not a big party guy. Tell the Major he has my congrats. She closed his hatch to muffle the sound and let him sleep. Everyone was distributed one mug of beer, but Whackaholic would smoothly switch mugs with whoever was nearby. Ten minutes in and he had switched four mugs and was looking for a fifth to switch with. Hansel handed his mug to Marion, who gave hers to Whackaholic.
“Give it a try, babe.” She smiled and took a sip.
“Strong, better than the last one.”
“See? I told you that old beer was shit.” He took a gulp from his mug then kissed Marion.
“You’ve got beer breath, already.”
“Yeah, that happens quickly.” Everybody started to gather around Aston and Hetz, Hetz had something to give Aston. “Let’s see what it is, shall we?” He climbed onto her roof and watched. Hetz opened a tool box on the side of her hull and removed an elegantly crafted wooden chest about six inches long by three inches wide by three inches tall.
“Here, Aston. I made this for you.” She handed him the box. It was all wood construction with lubed wood hinges, it was beach wood with dark oil-soaked edges. It had a flower embroiled pattern with elegant vines on the corners and his name embroiled across the front in beautiful German cursive. It looked like something straight out of Elizabethan society. “Sorry it’s all flowers, it’s all I had to go off of for the time.”
“No, no, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” They kissed in front of the others. The others cheered and laughed, making the pair blush. “You made this?”
“I did.”
“It’s amazing, how’d you make it?” She used one of her fingers on her hand, using the inside corner of her finger she blunted the edge of the wood toolbox on her side.
“Like that, only more gentle.”
“I love it, Hetz, this is the best thing I’ve ever had.” Marion looked to Hansel.
“I told you it wasn’t sex.” Hansel chuckled.
“Just wait; we’ll see how he is in the morning.” Later that night, after the celebration ended and the drunk were thrown in bed, Hetz had Aston alone.
“Hey Aston do you really like the box, now that we’re alone?” He studied the exterior.
“Eh, it could use a bit more color but I’m happy with what it is.”
“Great. There is some more to it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, push on the back edge of the bottom panel.” He did as she told him, he heard a pop from inside and he opened it to check, his scared expression turned to that of amusement.
“You put in a false bottom; damn you’re good at this.”
“That’s not all I put in.” She kept glancing into the box until Aston did too, he moved the false bottom and pulled out a single condom package. “That box is only half of your night.” He looked at her amazed. “So, what do you think birthday boy?”
“How in hell did you get a condom?”
“You let me worry about that!” She pulled him into a huge and dark hedge grove and turned on a dim flashlight. They were kissing then; she undid his belt with novice skill and worked the buttons from his shirt. She reached into his underwear and grabbed her dinner and tenderized it until it was nice and strong, he yanked his clothes off and threw the clothes near the covered entrance, and she pulled him up onto her glacis plate and grabbed his rock hard dick. “Give it to me Aston!” He slid into her lips as she licked them; her mouth structure put his cock straight down in a tight mouth. Her teeth retracted so it was just her lips, tongue, and throat. Aston was never in a better place.
Her mouth was a tad bigger than a human mouth simply because of her tiny size and confined interior, so it was as good a blow job as any prostitute could give. Her throat gripped his head and her mouth held his shaft, his base was circled by her lips and his cock belly was locked into submission by her tongue. Aston was limp on her front, she held him there with his burly chest in her face. She had her eyes closed, letting the flavor and feeling engulf her in exotic memory. She was swallowing her saliva to coax Aston’s senses into spewing his seed, and every time she swallowed he moaned loud and true. He pulled out a little bit and thrusted in repeatedly, humping her fast. His cock felt too good, he quickly felt his cum arising. He moaned and groaned louder and faster, Hetz knew what was coming. He suddenly pulled out and came on her faceplate. She felt his glops of hot cum fall onto her face just below her viewport and noticed that the drops were drawing closer to her mouth. She smiled as a glop fell upon her extended teeth; her tongue licked his semen off her teeth.
Aston groaned, he was suddenly cold again. He looked into Hetz’s eyes as she probed the semen already freezing to her warm body. In her eyes he saw her lust; she wasn’t finished with his gift yet. Hetz felt the cold air dry his sperm onto her hull, she remembered that all he had on was his socks; not snow gear. She knew what to do instantly. She wrapped around his waist and moved him to her side; she then pushed against the ground on that side and propelled herself onto her opposing side. That’s when she held herself perpendicular to the ground and put Aston’s feet on her road wheels, his cock right in front of her heat-bleeding pussy. Without words Aston knew she was ready, he pushed his head against her vulva and broke the seal. A strong feeling of warmth emanated from her and warmed his core fast. He pressed his hips against her belly and let her body heat mingle with his until they were the same, then he braved the journey out of the warm comfort and retreated into the cold before returning to her comfort again and again.
“Harder, Aston, harder!” Suddenly she slammed her cervix against his head and felt all of his skin on the wall of the cervix, too much. “Wait!”
“Why?” She plucked him out and tried to roll the condom onto his wet cock. “Let me help you, baby.” He grabbed her hand and guided her through the motions.
“Alright baby,” she shoved one of her injector tendrils into her vagina to open the cervix, “prepare for the best gift you’ve ever had!” He pushed his way in, both were moaning and groaning and grunting as he penetrated deep into her very tight, hot, and wet cervix. Her engine turned over with every hump he did, rocking her chassis with his motions. Eventually he gained pace as her pussy slackened on grip and adjusted to his presence. Aston put great power behind his thrusts to really rock his girl, and she felt it. Every thrust would make her arms bend a little before they righted themselves straight again. The whole feeling they got out of it was immense, both were mind numb, and they could feel everything about the other. Aston wanted this night to never end, so did Hetz, they slipped away from reality and into heaven where they were the only ones there. They lost themselves so much that Aston forgot that that building of the awesome feeling was his orgasm approaching, he came without knowing it. Hetz felt his convulsions but knew he had a condom, she also knew that her orgasm was building and encouraged Aston to keep going. When Aston heard her say that she was close to cumming he jolted out to make sure the condom didn’t tear, it didn’t but still grossed him out. He pulled off the condom and wiped off his cock before Hetz’s pleads got to him. He slid back in and out, taking in all he could before her tightening pussy suddenly gave and she came. He pulled out and was instantly hit by the cold. “Why does it have to end so early, baby?”
“It doesn’t have too,” he leaned against her and kissed her belly, “I’ve some more in my back pocket.” She snaked into his discarded pants and pulled out three condom packets.
“How in hell did you get these?”
“You let me worry about that!” Before the night was old they had burned through the condoms and Hetz was righting herself. As her treads slammed against the snow again she collected his clothes and helped Aston into her hull. She laid her belly in the snow and used a blanket to tuck in Aston lying on her floor. It was as hot as ever inside her, a tiny and cramped space where four men in heavy clothes worked the day. He loved this tiny space, he loved this ‘tiny’ woman, and he loved this tiny world- unsure of how much longer he or anyone he knows will inhabit it.
Fin Chapter 30

Chapter 31
Hansel and Marion were sitting together waiting for Whacker to get out of bed, he had a hangover, and they noticed that Hetz was coming by. The whole battalion was mobilizing, moving deeper inward of Germany to meet E, Irish, and Inbred at another town before moving with the assault force. Hetz wasn’t with Aston and nobody had seen him all day.
“Good morning Hetz, where’s Aston?” Marion asked. She wanted to see the box Hetz had made.
“He’s sleeping inside.” She rapped on her flank with a hand. “Excuse me; I have to go exchange my ammo for real shots.” She continued on her way.
“I still need to do that. These blanks are only half the weight, I feel empty.”
“When was the last time I slept inside you?” Marion thought.
“It was raining and we wanted to have fun.”
“Why would Aston be sleeping inside her?”
“Because..,” she stopped, “dammit.”
“I told you.”
“She still gave him something that wasn’t sex, Hansel.”
“Alright, we’ll split it fifty-fifty.”
“Sounds good to me.” They started towards the ammo depot, Whacker would be a while. By the time they got there Hetz was handing over her last blank and receiving her real ammo. Aston was dressed sitting on her roof with his legs straddling her gun mantle. “Good morning, Aston.”
“Good morning.” He twisted around, smiled and waved.
“Do you have the chest Hetz made you?” He nodded and pointed into the open hatch. Hetz retrieved it and handed it to Aston.
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Very. I’d like to learn how to do that.” Hetz racked her last real shot and turned around.
“It took a lot of practice before I could make anything close to that. I can teach you.” Hetz talked to her about what area of her tendril finger to use for certain jobs and what good wood looked and felt like while Marion was switching out her ammo. This bored Hansel and Aston to death so they went to find Cindy and her snow fort.
“I don’t think it’s a snow fort.” Aston commented.
“Why else would she pile up that much snow?”
“I mean it was too shaped and specific to her for it to be a fort.”
“Nah she’s probably a control freak.”
“We are talking about Cindy, right?”
“Yeah.”
“No she is not a control freak.”
“You never know, maybe she’s just obsessive with details.”
“No, no. If it is a fort, then why did she want my tent sticks?”
“Use them as pikes. Or tank traps. Half of us here are tanks.”
“Maybe, maybe.” They waddled around in the thickening snow until they came across Cindy and her snow collection.
“Aston! Hansel!” She yelled when she saw them.
“I’ll be damned.”
“Told you it wasn’t a fort.”

Once Marion and Hetz were alone they started talking. “So did Aston have a good birthday?”
“The best. His words.”
“Really? Where did you two go after the fun?”
“Oh, places..,” she looked around, nobody was nearby. She inched closer to Marion, “we fucked.”
“Dammit.” Hetz was startled.
“Wha-?”
“Hansel and I bet that wasn’t your gift.”
“Well it wasn’t, more for fun and the hell of it. It just seemed convenient.”
“Where did you go? How far out? Hansel and I had to go all the way down to the stream last time.”
“Oh not far, not far at all. Only into the hedges out past the HQ.” Marion frowned.
“I can’t fit in there.”
“It was perfect for us! At first I was happy to finally use that condom. I’ve had that since May.”
“Wait, you know you don’t need it, right?”
“No we did. We went all the way through.” Marion was surprised.
“When we last did that I lost it. I had to get pregnant.” Hetz nodded.
“I’ve been there; it’ll pass in a month or two.”
“It’s been a month.” She lied, it’s been longer.
“Then you don’t have much longer before you’re fine.”
“Do you think it depends on my size?” Hetz thought.
“That may be in there. Go ask Gretchen how long hers was.” Gretchen was the female Tiger I. She was among the eldest of the bunch.
“Where does she usually stay?”
“Over here by the ditch. I’ll show you.” She led Marion to Gretchen, Hetz asked bluntly how long her ‘heat stage’ was and Gretchen answered four to five months.
“Marion you’ll probably be finished before Christmas.” She started talking about when she was where Marion is at. “Yeah, my best friend was a Panther and she was in it, too. She was in love with my brother, and they, well.., you know the legend about where Tiger twos are from?” Marion nodded. “It’s true. My brother is the father. When she got pregnant she didn’t tell my brother, not for a little while at least but everyone found out at stage two.”
“Stage two?” Marion asked.
“Oh, there are a few stages for pregnancy in us. First is just making more synthmetal, that builds up in the walls of your vagina, then when the actual construction starts your basket closes. Your entire hull essentially closes, the deck hatches lock and don’t open, the basket closes off the turret from the hull, and anything inside the hull that isn’t a part of you is pushed to the side or front. Well the ammo will stay racked, but it’s inaccessible. You know you’re in stage two when your basket closes.”
“Will I feel it?”
“Yes, it’s a gradual close overnight but you will feel it, especially when you try to turn your turret.”
“So I can’t turn my turret?”
“No you can but not as smooth as before.” Just then Hansel and Aston ran up to them.
“”Hey! You two need to come see this!” The four of them went back to where Cindy was playing in the snow. She sat proudly behind her creation.
“On my god this is amazing!”
“Look!” Cindy yelled out. She had made, out of snow, sticks, bark and rocks, four tanks. Three M4 Shermans and a massive Köingtiger all next to each other. “This is dad,” she pointed to the one on her far right, “this is mom,” she pointed to the one left of the dad, “this is Marion,” she pointed to the Köingtiger to her left, “this is Hansel,” she pointed to the pillar of snow all the way on the left, left of Snow Marion, “and this is me!” In the middle of Marion and the mom was a littler Sherman. The Shermans all had excellently shaped hulls and turrets. A stick jut out for the hull MG and below the chassis where it would be open space was stones to blacken it out. The tracks were made of bark and the wheels out of circular rocks. The hatches were bark, too, and the main gun barrels were the tent sticks. Marion was the same as the Shermans in terms of materials used for what but for her exhaust Cindy had found two tobacco pipes to use. On all the turrets were eyes and smiles. Hansel only had sticks for arms and two pebbles for eyes.
“I’m going to go get Derik.” Hetz announced, Derik had the camera for the battalion. She drove off with Aston to help her look. Frau with Canine and Faust with Anton passed her and were directed towards Cindy’s snow family. They, too, were amazed with it. They were all so used to war, hate, training to kill, and an eagerness to fight in battle, while this innocent child was in a carefree world, filled with once scary monsters that have become her family. It made the whole battalion rethink their lives, and what life meant. Once Derik arrived half the battalion had seen what she had made, and after some pleas and convincing, Derik took a picture of her and her snow family. Later they made a sign in English, French, German, and even Russian asking for nobody to tamper with the display. Kramia made the Russian sign and prayed that it never be interpreted.
After that they rallied together, refueled, and left. Making headway deeper into German territory to meet the crossroads and group with the Fifth Panzer Army under the Forty-Seventh Panzer Division.
They started off on their slow journey; Cindy wasn’t used to going this slow. She whined and complained on how slow they were going. Canine took her along with him and ran around the group, wearing himself and his worked engine out. Cindy was still ready to go, she circled Canine chanting “slow poke” in her playful tone.
“Sorry, Cindy, but ol’ me’s too tired. Go get Mini or Erin. They’re young.” Cindy ran around until she found Erin, the Panther A. She pleaded with Erin to play with her, and finally Erin broke and drove around with her. Erin’s crew jumped tank to Gretchen beforehand, they weren’t in the mood to fight inertia. Marion watched Cindy try to catch the faster Erin, Erin’s top speed was fifty-five kilometers per hour. The fastest Sherman the Germans have ever seen was at forty-six to forty-eight kilometers per hour. While Marion could probably get forty kilometers per hour on flat paved ground giving it everything she had in the field she could never reach that, unless she went downhill, of course. The whole column of tanks, because of an angry Jäger, only went twelve kilometers per hour, so the speedy mediums were making rounds around the column like racecars. But one thing that Cindy had over all the other mediums was endurance, after an hour or two Erin was done and it was Mini’s turn to play with Cindy. When he was tired Cindy was tired and she crawled along with Marion, pleading to slow down and stop. Marion set Cindy into neutral and towed her along while she slept after a morning of play. Meats looked at the situation and smiled but looked a little worried.
“Marion,”
“Yeah Meats?”
“Don’t get too attached to the Shermans.”
“Why?”
“They are still our enemy. If you show them mercy, they won’t do the same.”
Fin Chapter 31

Chapter 32
The convoy finally came across a guard standing night watch on a foggy and cold morning; he checked each ID of the command and sent them along accordingly, sending the convoy’s motorbike ahead to message their arrival. This whole planning and coordination was done by German SS messengers by foot, bike, car, and train to ensure complete and total secrecy. The Allies weren’t to know what was bound to happen, not until it was too late. Marion was towing Cindy again, and in the murky and dark moonlight she saw the outline of a Panther and something else, something huge, something massive, something bigger than Jäger, even, and maybe Jäger and E combined. The Panther came forward into the headlights, in bright white paint there was the death skull and the dual lightning strikes; the icon of the SS. The commander’s hatch opened and the torso of a man that looked to be an old hare came out with major ranks and he, too, had the death skull. Their new major was an SS officer.
“What model are you?” Mini asked, he was glossing over the Panther’s road wheels and noticed they were not like any he’s seen before; more like E’s arrangement.
“Panther II,” she snapped. She was aggressive, “thicker armor, better mobility, better suspension, and,” she looked at Geoff, “an eighty-eight.” She wasn’t lying, her gun was thicker than Mini’s and it was credible; Panther G models had been equipped with eighty-eights. From the way she looked ascetically and the way she held herself, she was a stuck up and all that SS panzer.
“Fall in!” The first words out of the Major’s mouth. Everybody moved into their positions, Meats was muttering ‘hide her, hide her’ to Marion and she tried. Marion picked up Cindy as she pivoted into position. Even though Marion’s size engulfed a full size Sherman, Marion felt that one of them caught a glimpse of Cindy, and for the first time Marion felt daunting fear, more powerful than the P-47 rocket attack and her first day on the battlefield combined into one horrid feeling. What Marion felt then in formation in front of this hate monger. What made matters worse is her Hansel is the company Captain, so his post was at the front of the company; closest to the Major and his death-head Panther. “I am Major Idek, this is Allison, and you will respect her as you would I. I am here to utilize you in the name of the Third Reich and to execute the will of the Führur himself! You fight for the Führur, you conquer for the Führur, you die for the Führur. Our mission for the Führur will be using the division between the British and the Americans against them; we will break through their worthless lines and break out all the way to their fuel depots along the shore! They will lose all of their fuel and we will have it all! From there we will push them off of the continent and we will be victorious!”
He ended his speech with the SS ‘heil Hitler’ and so no one offended him the others sounded off. The gang of the living machines were quite virgin to the propaganda, only the eldest bunch actually understood the cause of the war, who the leaders were, and why they were fighting. Otherwise the vast majority were clueless and only doing what they were told like loyal drone soldiers. Hansel and most of the others didn’t like this and subtly tried to teach their tanks and AFVs the history behind the war and their creation. Marion had mixed views about it, like Hansel and her crew, but if the Major has done the same to his tank, Allison, then there is no doubt she is as hardcore Nazi as he is. This passed through Marion’s mind just as she saw Allison glance away from her and whisper something to the Major. Marion felt very hot between the gears and bearings; Hansel felt her severe discomfort but couldn’t comfort her for he felt very worried as well. Marion wasn’t doing so good, she started shuddering when the Major or Allison glanced at her, soon she felt something along the lines of hot raindrops roll down her body, her breathing became more excited and energetic, her mind raced about what she’d do if they were confronted, her engine started to turn and run without fuel, her hand slid along her ammo rack, picking out shells to use in defense, the corners of her eyes scanned for weak points and where to group shots. She knew they wouldn’t take too kindly if at all to Cindy giving that the Major is giving another speech about how the allies are no more than the Russian dog, commemorating Kramia for being the smart Russian and going against her ‘subhuman oppressors’ and all the sorts. Soon after he ended his speech with his most intense ‘heil Hitler’ ever, like he’s motivated himself to join the SS and kill all the subhuman swine himself. It looked like he brought tears to his own eyes. After this they went through the usual proceedings, report in, and the follow up, change of command from Major to the Colonel, then dismissal. After everyone started moving Marion was trying to sneak away while hiding Cindy, still asleep.
“Captain Hansel!” Allison shouted. Marion froze, if she had a defined heart it would probably have a heart attack. She turned her turret to face her. “Sit at attention! And don’t try to hide that Sherman!” Marion went instinctive, she raced for a shell but Meats knew what was better for her in the end and blocked the breach. Marion slowly inched to align her turret with her hull while facing the Major and Allison.
“Y-Yes sir?” He tried hiding his chattering jaw.
“What. Is. That?” The Major pointed to Cindy.
“A pet, sir.” Banker snapped before a thought even graced Hansel’s mind.
“A pet?”
“Yes, sir. We thought that there’d be a need to show how weak and pathetic the American armor was to the children of the Third Reich.” The Major looked to the others, they were nodding in agreement.
“Alright, but don’t let your bitch shit on my soil.” With that he commanded Allison to meet with the tanks with no crews like Mini, Kramia, and Rosa.
Then something massive moved. Marion had completely forgotten about the massive figure she saw earlier trying to cover Cindy. Out of the early mist the massive object moved, the rising sun broke through the trees and shone against the mobile building.
“You mother fucking son of a bitch!” Banker yelled as he threw his gloves down. As he climbed out of the tank the others saw what he did; Inbred standing against a flat and sloped faceplate with two large hazel eyes peering friendly over them. Hansel glanced from Inbred’s smiling face to his hand, the new tank had a tendril coiling up his leg and a hand snugly placed in his.
“Hey guys, um, well.., this is Eryka.”
Fin Chapter 32

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

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

Ch 34
Inbred walked into Eryka’s bunker. Her new coat of paint looked very nice on her and today they were going to add some more colors like Marion had on when he left them. So far the areas that are going to be brown were finished and now they were going to do a green. While they have learned that they will take part in the winter offensive they won’t be able to paint Eryka fully white, there isn’t enough white dye, so they are blending them together. That and the paint is quite chalky and will wash out as the snow melts in the spring so they figured that they’ll save time. Once the green is finished they’ll add dark yellow speckles all over her and dark green speckles on the dark yellow areas, Inbred and her have really come close, so close they almost had sex. The sheer thought of making love to her warms Inbred against the cold, leftover feelings from her warm and tight caresses keeps him company and their loving kisses spark a fire deep inside him. They don’t do much as far as going out and about, and they rarely get alone time so most of this love is inside her hull, and they only snip kisses whenever no one watches. Being on a maximum security base meant to look like a farm processing station from everywhere has many drawbacks. Every morning the base is inspected for wires, spying equipment, and misplaced radios. This sort of mentality has made Inbred very very cautious when Eryka is being handled by others. Every day after the inspection detail leaves he goes around and checks her and her garage. Twice he’s found sketchy equipment and wires, he fears somebody knows of her. He’s never apprehended the suspected spy but has reported suspicious activity. The only times Eryka is allowed outside of her recess is during overcast, nighttime, and rarely broad daylight. This makes the garage feel like their home, the house that they reside in most, their one chance at privacy.
“This day,” Eryka says, “is going to be great.”
“Why’s that?” Inbred asked as he checks under a table.
“Reasons you’ll learn of.” After that Inbred moved to the piping, he found a transponder, and a cable, the cable traced back to the radio on the bench but it wasn’t set to the right channel. He freaked out, his heart raced and his mind scared him with bombs falling on Eryka.
“So far it’s not!” Eryka didn’t seem to care; she grabbed him and held him against her, caressing his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, nothing’ll hurt me.” They sneaked a kiss in for the morning, she held him longer than normal. Even though Eryka said it was nothing, Inbred still took the radio instance to heart and saw it as a threat to his interest. “Nobody comes in here, I’m telling you, nothing is wrong.”
“Why is the radio like that!?”
“You know what, ask the officer if you can set up your own monitor, just to make sure.” Inbred smiled.
“Babe you’re the best.”
“I know Ralph.” He did exactly that. He went to the officer of security and presented his case. The officer said that using that radio is dangerous, it could be hard-wired. He had no extra recording devices so he told Inbred that he could stand watch in the garage until someone was caught. Knowing that he’ll get pretty sleepless nights, the officer didn’t see any incentive for Inbred to do it other than protecting the fatherland.
That day Inbred and Eryka met another new tank to the base, she was a Panther II. She looked a lot like Mini, but she had a bigger gun and her wheel arrangement was different, a little weird, from what the previous German designs had was very even layout of the suspension, on the Panther II she had a little tighter grouping on one end than the other end. She didn’t have a name yet, Eryka thought of a good name and they found Allison to be fitting. Inbred thought that it kind of was a good day, met someone nice and sweet, and was, at the moment of the thought, staring at his girlfriend’s ass and rubbing it down with paint. He somewhat envied the brush in his hand, wanting to replace it with something else used to spread select fluids. He leaned against Eryka’s massive exhaust pipe and thought of the things Hansel and Marion had done together, specifically the tailpipe talk. He remembers how sensitive Marion said it was why she squirmed whenever she backed into bushes, and he slid his hand up and down the pipe massaging it.
“What are you doing back there?”
“Do you like it?”
“Well, yes, it’s nice. But why?”
“Repaying you for last time, your massages.” The ‘last time’ Inbred and she were kissing late in the day with no one around and she cupped his sack and massaged it. That was the most sexual thing they’ve done.
“Really? Well could you grope this, too, while you’re at it?” She snaked out her ‘nipple’ tendril; he held it in his hand and rubbed it while he stroked her ass with a paint brush. “Mmm, that’s great. I got an ass and tit massage.” Inbred smirked. He finished painting after sundown and prepared to stay the night with Eryka. It was soon midnight when the clean-up crew left. “Now it’s just you.., and me, babe.”
“Really..,” Inbred smiled and looked around. “Well I’ve a job to do so..,” he shrugged, “we could make out.” Eryka smiled in a naughty fashion.
“We could do more than that, baby.”
“But the spy?” Eryka only stared at him.
“Babe, I’m the ‘spy’ if you haven’t noticed.” Inbred was confused.
“Wh-What?!” He pointed to her.
“I planted the wires, I messed with the radio, and I’m the one doing the suspicious things in here.”
“Why?” Inbred feared for himself now, he wasn’t sure how but she was the spy.
“So I could get you and I alone in here all night.” He backed away scared. Eryka rolled her eyes. “No I’m not a real spy. I want to be alone with you and fuck you! I thought you were smart.”
“Hey I’m smart!” She smirked at him. “I was acting on instinct.” He was approached slowly, and his shirt was unbuttoned. “So what about the guards at the door?”
“I’ve tested them, I’ve screamed as loud as I can. They won’t hear anything.” She brought a bare-chested lover to her lips and kissed him, letting him open his pants. Her tone changed, she sounded desperate in between their smooches. “Oh Ralph! I want you to split me! Split me in half!”
“Yes, ma’am!” Finally they were doing it; so much sexual tension had built up it was driving them mad. Now all that lust, that tension, that desire was released. Inbred had his clothes off quick, he knew where the spot was all because of his questions and he was there faster than Eryka could think was possible. She didn’t look wet enough, dripping wet wasn’t good enough, and so he decided to tease her a little. He felt a taste test of the dish was in order, to salivate the glands and prepare for the main course. Eryka was definitely enjoying this feast already. Her face twisted into the best smile she’s ever had, she felt her turret drift to her left side but she didn’t care. Her eyes darted towards the left like she was trying to see Inbred work her lips so heavenly but obviously couldn’t because of her body. Instead she felt his presence, she saw him in her mind, and she knew exactly how he was posed, exactly everything with what he was doing. It swamped her hormones and before he knew it Inbred was lapping up a sweet and rewarding waterfall. That’s when he quit his teasing; he moved his body and rubbed her lips with his stiff as stone cock.
“Split me Ralph, split me!” Her demands motivated Inbred to the extreme, he broke his way into her, loud moans echoed throughout the garage. An intense feeling overcame them; ecstasy and a feeling of something right flooded their bodies and shook their foundation. Inbred, his cock stuffed inside his lover’s tight and plush pussy, could feel her power, her durability, he felt what she was made of. Is this, too, what Hansel feels? He wondered, but then he remembered his lover wanting some good hard sex and pulled out to his head before rocketing back into her. He furiously plowed her virgin soil, moving her hot, wet, plush and loving vagina around him and needlessly obeying Eryka’s pleas for more. She got into his motions and inversely reacted to his motions; he’d get out while she got off, he drove in while she fell on, and so on. He felt her fluids flow all around his hips, her body heat and fluids mixed to keep him nice and warm against the dropping temperatures. Her pussy bled heat like a furnace, but was very comfortable inside. As he drove for the final time before resting he felt her grip him, it almost hurt how much she gripped him. He had to prop himself up to ease the pain, Eryka felt it but couldn’t seem to stop, not that she really wanted to stop but for her lover’s sake she fought her natural feelings and freed him. She felt him lie on the floor tired from the day and the sex. She lowered down and ground half of his cock, half in and half out, feeling his hard meat stick ooze precum and throb against her Gspot, he felt so wonderful. She felt his cock seemingly change, it convulsed and shivered as she ground, suddenly he rocketed deep inside her as an instinct while he came. His hot and thick cum shot inside her and some tingled her cervix while the rest mixed with her fluids along the sides of her uterus. Her whole vagina felt amazing, regardless she kept going; she wasn’t done. She continued to ride him for a good while, until her pussy had enough and she came. She slowly got off of Inbred so that he could get out. He came out covered in her love; he wondered how Hansel handles this. Eryka helped clean him off with a rag and stowed it, the floor would dry away. He dressed himself as Eryka wound down for the night; she still had her massive gun depressed fully. He climbed into a sleeping bag provided to him and he couldn’t help but look at Eryka’s huge size and feel like she faked it.
“Eryka, did you feel it?”
“Feel what?”
“Me, did you fake it?” She half-heartedly looked at him, she wanted to go to sleep badly.
“No, no babe I didn’t fake a thing.”
“But I’m like a mouse to you, the size difference is like, it’s like,” he searched through his mind for a comparison, “like a sausage and a hallway.” Eryka sheepishly chuckled.
“Baby, you are more than big enough to fill my needs.” She drug him over and kissed him lovingly. They kissed for a while before he retreated back to his cot and slept. Eryka woke up before the wake up alarm and woke Inbred. “I’ll show you why.”
“Why what?”
“You fill my needs.” She pulled him under and let him watch her expand and contract her vagina, he watched with interest, mystified on how such things happened. He had a morning wood and she decided to show him. She put his cock in while fully opened. “Here I barely feel you; you’re like a little tingle against me.” She started closing on him, until she was fully moaning and aroused; Inbred was simply in heaven. That morning, after they pulled a quickie, they met with Allison again. She was very inquisitive, concerned about why she was here. Inbred did his best to give account on the war, how it’s going, and who’s in charge but being very young during Hitler’s rise to power left many blanks in his history report. They exchanged a lot about each other, the three, and they shared their weaknesses. Eryka was prone to being overwhelmed by faster attackers and couldn’t stand cowards. Inbred was physically ‘weak’ and could not cope with laziness. Allison wasn’t too armored, a well-placed shot could render her immobile and start a fire, she also couldn’t hurt children, and she loved children too much. Whether friend or foe she couldn’t think of hurting any. She seemed to have a sixth sense about children, she was passing by a school on the way to the base and never knew it was a school but felt like there were children inside. She was right but it was an unmarked building, an average building actually, the original school was bombed by the allies. Later she was moved to the painting store and painted, she came out excited and happy, so was Eryka, but Inbred beheld a death-head in the making.
“How do I look?”
“Like you’d kill a Tommy just by glancing at him.”
“How about you Ralph? How do I look?” He wanted to warn her, tell her about what is on the way, but he couldn’t for it was too late. An SS car in the background halted and out stepped the SS officer.
“Just like Eryka said.” He looked her in the eyes and it scared her. I’m sorry, you have no idea. Inbred’s school was overrun by SS Brown shirts who stormed the building looking for Jews. They screamed at the children, threatened the teacher, beat down another teacher and nearly shot up a class of kids. All of this terror, danger, all of this hate for one nine year old boy. Inbred snapped to attention and so did the tanks, Allison and the Major were introduced, and after that she was taken by the Major, taken, brainwashed, and turned into a death-head. Eryka and Inbred didn’t agree with the transformation, but every now and then when they talked she acted like her old self. It resurrected their confidence in her humility. Time passed, training passed, and some love-making filled nights passed to quickly, and before they realized it they were a week away from being deployed to the front. This scared Eryka.
“Ralph, sugar.”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“I’m sorry.” She grabbed him and enacted the change; she filled him up but felt he could bulk up some so she put more into his muscles. When she was done she caressed his body to help the muscles grow and cradled him close to her face, she used a nipple to feed him the nutrients he needed and to solidify that he grows. He instantly hated her for it, but later on he forgave her wholesomely. Allison liked the change; she said he looked a lot more intimidating.
“Eryka, baby, I love you so much.” He finally understood why Hansel did it, why he loved Marion. Love is love.
Fin Ch 34

Ch 35
“So how were your travels down?”
“It was fairly hard and long. We tried to spark up conversations with Allison and Major Idek but he limited the conversations topics to only tactics, asking where your training was when I left and what the schedule was. He also asked how many tanks had minimal crews; he was generally focused around military propaganda and how we’re going to win. I’ll admit, he is pretty good at motivating you. That being said he’s a perfectionist.”
“We noticed.”
“He’s instilling it into Allison; I really don’t want a death-head tank. He straightened her so much I think there’s a legitimate iron rod in her engine he uses to right her if she is wrong.” That made Marion’s engine ache with sympathy pain. “So much is he instilling it he rerouted the train to where the Jews are. He stopped the train outside of one and told us to admire in Aryan strength. He made me take pictures to use to remember not who we’re fighting, he doesn’t view them as whos, and he told me to use them to remember what we’re fighting. I can’t describe them.” Eryka handed him the pictures, he thanked her and held up the pictures. They were of the concentration camp fences, the workers literally worked to the bone, the dead simply piled up, the massive ditches that Eryka could sit in that were filled with bodies, and he said that it smelled like burning meat and flesh for miles. Banker, who was the closest to the pictures, flew over them with his eyes, he turned pale, and he gagged and wobbled. His skin turned white and cold to the touch, an icy chill shot through his body. “The worst part is he convinced Allison this was right, she awed at the camp, she was moved by it, not like we are, no, moved more like Major Nazi is. That was when we thought for sure she was too far gone.” Banker pointed at one picture.
“Those are children!”
“Yes, there are women here,” Eryka showed on a picture, “these elderly people went into that building. The Major said it’s the best way to kill them-gas chamber.”
As the group looked through the pictures that were kept well out of Cindy’s innocence, Cindy called out “Mary, Mary, look! Is that your sister?” She was pointing at E; they had gotten back from their voyage.
“No, sweetie, that’s my replacement.”
“Actually,” Eryka started, “plans are I replace you and the E-75 replaces the Tigers.”
“So does that mean you’re being kick out of the army?” Cindy asked, though she was mentally about eight she knew that she needed Marion to get her home.
“No dear, they’ll use me until I die.” Hansel again realized what she was, a weapon of war owned by the government. He thought long and hard about it, about how he could keep her as his own. He figured he could use his pay in his favor, buy her freedom as soon as he can afford it by staying in the army. That’s the plan he came up with, that’s the plan he’ll follow. E and Irish came over, talked to them for a while, and looked at the pictures and learned more details about the SS Major. After that Irish and E went to the other and met with them and then the Major and Allison then they hung out with their friends. After a few days they began the assault.
They got their orders almost at last minute and moved to assault the thinly protected Allied line. News from forward assaulting forces was inspiring, the American line was crushed and they were plowing through the defenses. Because resources were few everything was allotted, not everybody had their maximum capacity for ammunition. The mediums especially suffered. The force was moving through the remains of the battles, nothing but some obliterated fox holes, body bags, destruction, trees splintered about ten feet above the ground, blood stains in the snow, and a few light skinned vehicles that were left to burn. Marion tried to keep Cindy away from the bodies but a child’s curiosity is a hard thing to control. Cindy got close to one body and only one body; she never left Marion’s side after that sight. Every day the sound of battle grew closer as they moved up to relieve units, every day Marion feared for Cindy’s wellbeing, every day she thought about the things that could happen to her human crew. Every day her nightmares grew worse. She felt an eagerness to fight, they all did, but the fear of death lingered in everyone’s minds.
They started to notice that the units ahead moved so fast they left pockets of U.S. infantry behind, four times they were shot at by small arms, Cindy herself was shot at, the soldiers thinking that she was a captured Sherman being used by a German crew in need. The soldiers were dealt with swiftly but they went down like mad dogs, every one of them gave it their all. Hansel’s group had never encountered resistance so close before, he and his team marveled at their supreme bravery. While a mass of prisoners were taken, most of them were still bitter like they were ordered to surrender rather than willingly die for their cause, at least it seemed that way. All of their training proved itself, Eugene and Karl would suppress the sharp shooters while Marion or another tank dealt with hard resistance, and burst made at Eugene and Karl either missed or bounced off Marion’s armor. While that happened the infantry would enter the area and eliminate any threats. Because of her classification, Marion was put with heavies and Hansel was posted in direct command of three Tiger Is. They were three of four dead-metal Tiger Is; the other two were with Griffin and Gretchen under command of Fritz and Edwards. The tank destroyers were under the command of Jäger and they consisted of Rosa, Hetz, the Marders, and Frau, Frau was more of an assault gun so she more so went with the mediums. The mediums were formed into two teams; the first was Mini-Rommel, Kramia, Erin, and Faust, their commander wasn’t really met by them. The second group of mediums was led by Canine and that was the rest of the mediums, Frau, and the reconnaissance vehicles like Kitty the Puma and Selig the SdKfz 251, she had a Pak 40 mounted on her. The experimental vehicles were under command of the Major and consisted of Allison, Eryka and E.
Early one morning they encountered a village not on the map but it was on the route. The Colonel gave the go ahead and the first medium group and Marion’s heavy group entered with support of Kitty. The multistory houses formed to ninety degree turns before it opened up and crossed a bridge over the river. The experimentals sat on the hill that overlooked the bridge and had a small line of sight between two buildings that was in view of the road to the bridge. Faust was sent in first, then Marion followed, Cindy sat back with Frau and Canine. Then there was Kitty behind Marion in place to swoop around any dug in gun positions. From a building a rocket flared into the street at Faust. They instantly tried to turn towards them but the rocket missed and hit a church steeple, falling debris fell on Faust’s turret skirt and fell in on her right side.
“You okay, Faust?” Anton asked worried.
“I’m fine, baby.” She responded as she gave a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
“Load high explosive!” The commander yelled. Anton caught the AP shell spat out by Faust’s gun and replaced it with HE. With a ‘gun ready’ the gunner shot into the second floor. The wall exploded into pieces of bricks, wood, and furniture. They slowly advanced forwards, they came up to the second bent left and this is when Marion would take point. Faust moved along to the sidewalk of the road and had her gun down the road to cover Marion. As the length of the road came into view there sat an American Hellcat tank. “Fuck! Fire!”
Immediately they fired at the tank hunter, it harmlessly drove into the ground and the Hellcat returned the favor. Instantly Faust felt a stinging pain towards her rear, and felt hot liquids spew in her engine and crew compartment. Instantly a fire started. The crew raced to bail but Anton’s hatch was stuck, debris had locked it shut. As the fire heated her few shots left she wrapped all her arms around him and held him. The shots exploded and all anyone saw was fire, smoke, liquid metal and shrapnel tear through her sides and shoot out the hatches. The Hellcat had retreated behind a lone building.
Hansel watched in horror. His heart raced when he saw the fire spike up on Faust’s engine deck then he had indescribable fear as it exploded. Faust still sat there mostly intact, crying. Hansel screamed no repeatedly, he had nothing but instinct to guide him. He tore open Marion’s hatch and vaulted himself out, Marion tried to catch him but missed. Hansel fell into the snow and madly raced to Faust. Marion moved forward but looked for that Hellcat, she saw it looking at her frontal from behind the building when all of a sudden the wall exploded and a shot ripped its way through the Hellcat. Instantly smoke bled into the sky and the crew abandoned, Marion turned all attention to Hansel and plucked him off of Faust, who was crying and convulsing. Hansel resisted all restraints Marion made, he was dropped and he turned into a raging beast, he watched as the Hellcat crew survivors ran into a bar. Hansel ran blindly into the building, Meats ripped the MG-42 off the interior wall and stood in the commander’s hatch. Infantry raced to the bar to deal with the personnel while Marion moved in front. Hansel ran into the bar and knocked the pistol out of the American’s hand, decked him in the jaw, kneed him in the gut then tackled him. They struggled and ended up with Hansel straddling the American and choking him out. He only stared at his hands in blood boiling rage, not flinching to the American’s attempts to save his life. The other survivors stood up from behind the counter with grease guns. Before they did anything else they were cut down by Meats and the MP-40 soldiers. Hansel choked his enemy out until his face was purple. He stood up over him and admired at what he did. He wiped blood from his ear and walked back to Marion. She picked him up and put him inside. He started to cry. The town had no other incidents and was moved through with only Faust as the tank casualty, the whole time she and Hansel cried.
They pressed on, the next day they were on the edge of Bastogne, the city rooftops were in view. Hansel had somewhat recovered and was commanding his Tigers in a arrowhead formation. They advanced in a field when all of a sudden American AT guns opened fire from a forest position. The guns bounced off the heavy armor and after a few tries were zeroed in on and dealt with ease. Hansel commanded forward when one last shot tore through the trees and destroyed a Tiger to Marion’s right.
“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!?” The Tiger exploded, no American tank has ever done that, no American gun can do that, not from the front nor this far. The Tiger to the right was hit in the lower glacis plate and disabled the transmission. “What the FUCK!?” From the trees a Tiger tank came out, covered with big white stars.
“A fucking tiger?! Why-” the commander asked terrified as a shell from the American Tiger shot off the antenna.
“ALL GUNS FREE!” Hansel yelled, almost in unison the German force fired but the one without the antenna fired in response, one grazing off the turret, Marion’s flying under the belly, another bouncing off because of his angle, and the last one glanced off the roof. “FIRE AT WILL! FIRE AT WILL!” The Tigers’ and Panthers’ suspension was designed to keep the tank as steady as possible so that firing on the move would be more accurate, even with this improvement it was still tricky business and undisciplined to fire on the move. Given the opposition, moving targets are also harder to hit. Shot after shot flew at the Tiger, most missing or glancing off hardened points. The American Tiger was well disciplined, after a German volley he stopped and fired off a shot before moving again, this hurt Hansel’s task force. Hansel dispersed the formation sending them to angle themselves; soon the only one who could pen the other was Marion. She was loading AP and punched him right in the center of the flat hull plate. She expected the crew to bail but Hansel and Whacker knew better, German hulls were very sound integrity wise. It instantly fired upon her, trying to hit her lower but hit high. That was the worst hit she’s ever felt and jerked her response of another shot, it passed right by the Tiger.
“Marion you need to his the corners!” Whacker yelled, Hansel repeated it and then another shot hit them, bouncing off her mantle.
“They’re going for the boar sight! Hit the corner now!”
“Goddammit! NOW!” She panicked and fired at the Tiger, she hit its gun as it fired at her again, it hit her along her side, scraping down her body leaving a long gash on her hull, she couldn’t keep her cool and screamed in pain. Hansel had enough, he climbed into the gunner’s seat and aimed and fired. The shot pierced through the corner of the Tiger I and struck the ammunition, the tank exploded and kicked the turret off the hull in the largest fireball they’ve seen. Hansel shakily got back into his commander’s seat and leaned against the wall. He got on the comms and reported in to command with heavy breaths.
“Heavy group one (hard breath) reporting in, (hard breath) confrontation with (hard breath) confiscated Tiger model leaves (hard breath) one destroyed and three (hard breath) heavily damaged Tiger ones. (Hard breath) Requesting assistance at (hard breath) our location. (hard breath) Coordinates follows as-” he got off and called to Whacker. “Whacker, (hard breath) where the fuck are we?”
“The doorstep to hell.”
Fin Ch 35


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

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

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HaM Ch 35

Heads up: this is a long one and has fight scenes. Honestly I’ve had this ready since Wednesday but I never got around to posting it, sorry.

Ch 35

“So how were your travels down?”

“It was fairly hard and long. We tried to spark up conversations with Allison and Major Idek but he limited the conversations topics to only tactics, asking where your training was when I left and what the schedule was. He also asked how many tanks had minimal crews; he was generally focused around military propaganda and how we’re going to win. I’ll admit, he is pretty good at motivating you. That being said he’s a perfectionist.”

“We noticed.”

“He’s instilling it into Allison; I really don’t want a death-head tank. He straightened her so much I think there’s a legitimate iron rod in her engine he uses to right her if she is wrong.” That made Marion’s engine ache with sympathy pain. “So much is he instilling it he rerouted the train to where the Jews are. He stopped the train outside of one and told us to admire in Aryan strength. He made me take pictures to use to remember not who we’re fighting, he doesn’t view them as whos, and he told me to use them to remember what we’re fighting. I can’t describe them.” Eryka handed him the pictures, he thanked her and held up the pictures. They were of the concentration camp fences, the workers literally worked to the bone, the dead simply piled up, the massive ditches that Eryka could sit in that were filled with bodies, and he said that it smelled like burning meat and flesh for miles. Banker, who was the closest to the pictures, flew over them with his eyes, he turned pale, and he gagged and wobbled. His skin turned white and cold to the touch, an icy chill shot through his body. “The worst part is he convinced Allison this was right, she awed at the camp, she was moved by it, not like we are, no, moved more like Major Nazi is. That was when we thought for sure she was too far gone.” Banker pointed at one picture.

“Those are children!”

“Yes, there are women here,” Eryka showed on a picture, “these elderly people went into that building. The Major said it’s the best way to kill them-gas chamber.”

As the group looked through the pictures that were kept well out of Cindy’s innocence, Cindy called out “Mary, Mary, look! Is that your sister?” She was pointing at E; they had gotten back from their voyage.

“No, sweetie, that’s my replacement.”

“Actually,” Eryka started, “plans are I replace you and the E-75 replaces the Tigers.”

“So does that mean you’re being kick out of the army?” Cindy asked, though she was mentally about eight she knew that she needed Marion to get her home.

“No dear, they’ll use me until I die.” Hansel again realized what she was, a weapon of war owned by the government. He thought long and hard about it, about how he could keep her as his own. He figured he could use his pay in his favor, buy her freedom as soon as he can afford it by staying in the army. That’s the plan he came up with, that’s the plan he’ll follow. E and Irish came over, talked to them for a while, and looked at the pictures and learned more details about the SS Major. After that Irish and E went to the other and met with them and then the Major and Allison then they hung out with their friends. After a few days they began the assault.

They got their orders almost at last minute and moved to assault the thinly protected Allied line. News from forward assaulting forces was inspiring, the American line was crushed and they were plowing through the defenses. Because resources were few everything was allotted, not everybody had their maximum capacity for ammunition. The mediums especially suffered. The force was moving through the remains of the battles, nothing but some obliterated fox holes, body bags, destruction, trees splintered about ten feet above the ground, blood stains in the snow, and a few light skinned vehicles that were left to burn. Marion tried to keep Cindy away from the bodies but a child’s curiosity is a hard thing to control. Cindy got close to one body and only one body; she never left Marion’s side after that sight. Every day the sound of battle grew closer as they moved up to relieve units, every day Marion feared for Cindy’s wellbeing, every day she thought about the things that could happen to her human crew. Every day her nightmares grew worse. She felt an eagerness to fight, they all did, but the fear of death lingered in everyone’s minds.

They started to notice that the units ahead moved so fast they left pockets of U.S. infantry behind, four times they were shot at by small arms, Cindy herself was shot at, the soldiers thinking that she was a captured Sherman being used by a German crew in need. The soldiers were dealt with swiftly but they went down like mad dogs, every one of them gave it their all. Hansel’s group had never encountered resistance so close before, he and his team marveled at their supreme bravery. While a mass of prisoners were taken, most of them were still bitter like they were ordered to surrender rather than willingly die for their cause, at least it seemed that way. All of their training proved itself, Eugene and Karl would suppress the sharp shooters while Marion or another tank dealt with hard resistance, and burst made at Eugene and Karl either missed or bounced off Marion’s armor. While that happened the infantry would enter the area and eliminate any threats. Because of her classification, Marion was put with heavies and Hansel was posted in direct command of three Tiger Is. They were three of four dead-metal Tiger Is; the other two were with Griffin and Gretchen under command of Fritz and Edwards. The tank destroyers were under the command of Jäger and they consisted of Rosa, Hetz, the Marders, and Frau, Frau was more of an assault gun so she more so went with the mediums. The mediums were formed into two teams; the first was Mini-Rommel, Kramia, Erin, and Faust, their commander wasn’t really met by them. The second group of mediums was led by Canine and that was the rest of the mediums, Frau, and the reconnaissance vehicles like Kitty the Puma and Selig the SdKfz 251, she had a Pak 40 mounted on her. The experimental vehicles were under command of the Major and consisted of Allison, Eryka and E.

Early one morning they encountered a village not on the map but it was on the route. The Colonel gave the go ahead and the first medium group and Marion’s heavy group entered with support of Kitty. The multistory houses formed to ninety degree turns before it opened up and crossed a bridge over the river. The experimentals sat on the hill that overlooked the bridge and had a small line of sight between two buildings that was in view of the road to the bridge. Faust was sent in first, then Marion followed, Cindy sat back with Frau and Canine. Then there was Kitty behind Marion in place to swoop around any dug in gun positions. From a building a rocket flared into the street at Faust. They instantly tried to turn towards them but the rocket missed and hit a church steeple, falling debris fell on Faust’s turret skirt and fell in on her right side.

“You okay, Faust?” Anton asked worried.

“I’m fine, baby.” She responded as she gave a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Load high explosive!” The commander yelled. Anton caught the AP shell spat out by Faust’s gun and replaced it with HE. With a ‘gun ready’ the gunner shot into the second floor. The wall exploded into pieces of bricks, wood, and furniture. They slowly advanced forwards, they came up to the second bent left and this is when Marion would take point. Faust moved along to the sidewalk of the road and had her gun down the road to cover Marion. As the length of the road came into view there sat an American Hellcat tank. “Fuck! Fire!”

Immediately they fired at the tank hunter, it harmlessly drove into the ground and the Hellcat returned the favor. Instantly Faust felt a stinging pain towards her rear, and felt hot liquids spew in her engine and crew compartment. Instantly a fire started. The crew raced to bail but Anton’s hatch was stuck, debris had locked it shut. As the fire heated her few shots left she wrapped all her arms around him and held him. The shots exploded and all anyone saw was fire, smoke, liquid metal and shrapnel tear through her sides and shoot out the hatches. The Hellcat had retreated behind a lone building.

Hansel watched in horror. His heart raced when he saw the fire spike up on Faust’s engine deck then he had indescribable fear as it exploded. Faust still sat there mostly intact, crying. Hansel screamed no repeatedly, he had nothing but instinct to guide him. He tore open Marion’s hatch and vaulted himself out, Marion tried to catch him but missed. Hansel fell into the snow and madly raced to Faust. Marion moved forward but looked for that Hellcat, she saw it looking at her frontal from behind the building when all of a sudden the wall exploded and a shot ripped its way through the Hellcat. Instantly smoke bled into the sky and the crew abandoned, Marion turned all attention to Hansel and plucked him off of Faust, who was crying and convulsing. Hansel resisted all restraints Marion made, he was dropped and he turned into a raging beast, he watched as the Hellcat crew survivors ran into a bar. Hansel ran blindly into the building, Meats ripped the MG-42 off the interior wall and stood in the commander’s hatch. Infantry raced to the bar to deal with the personnel while Marion moved in front. Hansel ran into the bar and knocked the pistol out of the American’s hand, decked him in the jaw, kneed him in the gut then tackled him. They struggled and ended up with Hansel straddling the American and choking him out. He only stared at his hands in blood boiling rage, not flinching to the American’s attempts to save his life. The other survivors stood up from behind the counter with grease guns. Before they did anything else they were cut down by Meats and the MP-40 soldiers. Hansel choked his enemy out until his face was purple. He stood up over him and admired at what he did. He wiped blood from his ear and walked back to Marion. She picked him up and put him inside. He started to cry. The town had no other incidents and was moved through with only Faust as the tank casualty, the whole time she and Hansel cried.

They pressed on, the next day they were on the edge of Bastogne, the city rooftops were in view. Hansel had somewhat recovered and was commanding his Tigers in a arrowhead formation. They advanced in a field when all of a sudden American AT guns opened fire from a forest position. The guns bounced off the heavy armor and after a few tries were zeroed in on and dealt with ease. Hansel commanded forward when one last shot tore through the trees and destroyed a Tiger to Marion’s right.

“WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!?” The Tiger exploded, no American tank has ever done that, no American gun can do that, not from the front nor this far. The Tiger to the right was hit in the lower glacis plate and disabled the transmission. “What the FUCK!?” From the trees a Tiger tank came out, covered with big white stars.

“A fucking tiger?! Why-” the commander asked terrified as a shell from the American Tiger shot off the antenna.

“ALL GUNS FREE!” Hansel yelled, almost in unison the German force fired but the one without the antenna fired in response, one grazing off the turret, Marion’s flying under the belly, another bouncing off because of his angle, and the last one glanced off the roof. “FIRE AT WILL! FIRE AT WILL!” The Tigers’ and Panthers’ suspension was designed to keep the tank as steady as possible so that firing on the move would be more accurate, even with this improvement it was still tricky business and undisciplined to fire on the move. Given the opposition, moving targets are also harder to hit. Shot after shot flew at the Tiger, most missing or glancing off hardened points. The American Tiger was well disciplined, after a German volley he stopped and fired off a shot before moving again, this hurt Hansel’s task force. Hansel dispersed the formation sending them to angle themselves; soon the only one who could pen the other was Marion. She was loading AP and punched him right in the center of the flat hull plate. She expected the crew to bail but Hansel and Whacker knew better, German hulls were very sound integrity wise. It instantly fired upon her, trying to hit her lower but hit high. That was the worst hit she’s ever felt and jerked her response of another shot, it passed right by the Tiger.

“Marion you need to his the corners!” Whacker yelled, Hansel repeated it and then another shot hit them, bouncing off her mantle.

“They’re going for the boar sight! Hit the corner now!”

“Goddammit! NOW!” She panicked and fired at the Tiger, she hit its gun as it fired at her again, it hit her along her side, scraping down her body leaving a long gash on her hull, she couldn’t keep her cool and screamed in pain. Hansel had enough, he climbed into the gunner’s seat and aimed and fired. The shot pierced through the corner of the Tiger I and struck the ammunition, the tank exploded and kicked the turret off the hull in the largest fireball they’ve seen. Hansel shakily got back into his commander’s seat and leaned against the wall. He got on the comms and reported in to command with heavy breaths.

“Heavy group one (hard breath) reporting in, (hard breath) confrontation with (hard breath) confiscated Tiger model leaves (hard breath) one destroyed and three (hard breath) heavily damaged Tiger ones. (Hard breath) Requesting assistance at (hard breath) our location. (hard breath) Coordinates follows as-” he got off and called to Whacker. “Whacker, (hard breath) where the fuck are we?”

“The doorstep to hell.”

Fin Ch 35

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HaM Ch (Rule) 34

Yup! A porn scene! I wrote this long chapter with porn in the middle and hinted at the beginning, it’s a mix of plot line and just fun sex. This is between Inbred and Eryka. Remember, Inbred is Ralph. Oh and in case you’re wondering Marion looks like the image that follows: the Normandy camouflage pattern mixed in with a little white paint. White dye was very scarce so most winter camouflage at the time was light colors and rarely white itself, and what white paint there was tended to be chalky and wash off easy. The only thing the picture is missing is the anti-magnetic paint that looks like a thick fishing net around the tank. The paint was put over the anti-magnetic paint.

Tiger II Bulge Winter

Enjoy!

Ch 34

Inbred walked into Eryka’s bunker. Her new coat of paint looked very nice on her and today they were going to add some more colors like Marion had on when he left them. So far the areas that are going to be brown were finished and now they were going to do a green. While they have learned that they will take part in the winter offensive they won’t be able to paint Eryka fully white, there isn’t enough white dye, so they are blending them together. That and the paint is quite chalky and will wash out as the snow melts in the spring so they figured that they’ll save time. Once the green is finished they’ll add dark yellow speckles all over her and dark green speckles on the dark yellow areas, Inbred and her have really come close, so close they almost had sex. The sheer thought of making love to her warms Inbred against the cold, leftover feelings from her warm and tight caresses keeps him company and their loving kisses spark a fire deep inside him. They don’t do much as far as going out and about, and they rarely get alone time so most of this love is inside her hull, and they only snip kisses whenever no one watches. Being on a maximum security base meant to look like a farm processing station from everywhere has many drawbacks. Every morning the base is inspected for wires, spying equipment, and misplaced radios. This sort of mentality has made Inbred very very cautious when Eryka is being handled by others. Every day after the inspection detail leaves he goes around and checks her and her garage. Twice he’s found sketchy equipment and wires, he fears somebody knows of her. He’s never apprehended the suspected spy but has reported suspicious activity. The only times Eryka is allowed outside of her recess is during overcast, nighttime, and rarely broad daylight. This makes the garage feel like their home, the house that they reside in most, their one chance at privacy.

“This day,” Eryka says, “is going to be great.”

“Why’s that?” Inbred asked as he checks under a table.

“Reasons you’ll learn of.” After that Inbred moved to the piping, he found a transponder, and a cable, the cable traced back to the radio on the bench but it wasn’t set to the right channel. He freaked out, his heart raced and his mind scared him with bombs falling on Eryka.

“So far it’s not!” Eryka didn’t seem to care; she grabbed him and held him against her, caressing his shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, nothing’ll hurt me.” They sneaked a kiss in for the morning, she held him longer than normal. Even though Eryka said it was nothing, Inbred still took the radio instance to heart and saw it as a threat to his interest. “Nobody comes in here, I’m telling you, nothing is wrong.”

“Why is the radio like that!?”

“You know what, ask the officer if you can set up your own monitor, just to make sure.” Inbred smiled.

“Babe you’re the best.”

“I know Ralph.” He did exactly that. He went to the officer of security and presented his case. The officer said that using that radio is dangerous, it could be hard-wired. He had no extra recording devices so he told Inbred that he could stand watch in the garage until someone was caught. Knowing that he’ll get pretty sleepless nights, the officer didn’t see any incentive for Inbred to do it other than protecting the fatherland.

That day Inbred and Eryka met another new tank to the base, she was a Panther II. She looked a lot like Mini, but she had a bigger gun and her wheel arrangement was different, a little weird, from what the previous German designs had was very even layout of the suspension, on the Panther II she had a little tighter grouping on one end than the other end. She didn’t have a name yet, Eryka thought of a good name and they found Allison to be fitting. Inbred thought that it kind of was a good day, met someone nice and sweet, and was, at the moment of the thought, staring at his girlfriend’s ass and rubbing it down with paint. He somewhat envied the brush in his hand, wanting to replace it with something else used to spread select fluids. He leaned against Eryka’s massive exhaust pipe and thought of the things Hansel and Marion had done together, specifically the tailpipe talk. He remembers how sensitive Marion said it was why she squirmed whenever she backed into bushes, and he slid his hand up and down the pipe massaging it.

“What are you doing back there?”

“Do you like it?”

“Well, yes, it’s nice. But why?”

“Repaying you for last time, your massages.” The ‘last time’ Inbred and she were kissing late in the day with no one around and she cupped his sack and massaged it. That was the most sexual thing they’ve done.

“Really? Well could you grope this, too, while you’re at it?” She snaked out her ‘nipple’ tendril; he held it in his hand and rubbed it while he stroked her ass with a paint brush. “Mmm, that’s great. I got an ass and tit massage.” Inbred smirked. He finished painting after sundown and prepared to stay the night with Eryka. It was soon midnight when the clean-up crew left. “Now it’s just you.., and me, babe.”

“Really..,” Inbred smiled and looked around. “Well I’ve a job to do so..,” he shrugged, “we could make out.” Eryka smiled in a naughty fashion.

“We could do more than that, baby.”

“But the spy?” Eryka only stared at him.

“Babe, I’m the ‘spy’ if you haven’t noticed.” Inbred was confused.

“Wh-What?!” He pointed to her.

“I planted the wires, I messed with the radio, and I’m the one doing the suspicious things in here.”

“Why?” Inbred feared for himself now, he wasn’t sure how but she was the spy.

“So I could get you and I alone in here all night.” He backed away scared. Eryka rolled her eyes. “No I’m not a real spy. I want to be alone with you and fuck you! I thought you were smart.”

“Hey I’m smart!” She smirked at him. “I was acting on instinct.” He was approached slowly, and his shirt was unbuttoned. “So what about the guards at the door?”

“I’ve tested them, I’ve screamed as loud as I can. They won’t hear anything.” She brought a bare-chested lover to her lips and kissed him, letting him open his pants. Her tone changed, she sounded desperate in between their smooches. “Oh Ralph! I want you to split me! Split me in half!”

“Yes, ma’am!” Finally they were doing it; so much sexual tension had built up it was driving them mad. Now all that lust, that tension, that desire was released. Inbred had his clothes off quick, he knew where the spot was all because of his questions and he was there faster than Eryka could think was possible. She didn’t look wet enough, dripping wet wasn’t good enough, and so he decided to tease her a little. He felt a taste test of the dish was in order, to salivate the glands and prepare for the main course. Eryka was definitely enjoying this feast already. Her face twisted into the best smile she’s ever had, she felt her turret drift to her left side but she didn’t care. Her eyes darted towards the left like she was trying to see Inbred work her lips so heavenly but obviously couldn’t because of her body. Instead she felt his presence, she saw him in her mind, and she knew exactly how he was posed, exactly everything with what he was doing. It swamped her hormones and before he knew it Inbred was lapping up a sweet and rewarding waterfall. That’s when he quit his teasing; he moved his body and rubbed her lips with his stiff as stone cock.

“Split me Ralph, split me!” Her demands motivated Inbred to the extreme, he broke his way into her, loud moans echoed throughout the garage. An intense feeling overcame them; ecstasy and a feeling of something right flooded their bodies and shook their foundation. Inbred, his cock stuffed inside his lover’s tight and plush pussy, could feel her power, her durability, he felt what she was made of. Is this, too, what Hansel feels? He wondered, but then he remembered his lover wanting some good hard sex and pulled out to his head before rocketing back into her. He furiously plowed her virgin soil, moving her hot, wet, plush and loving vagina around him and needlessly obeying Eryka’s pleas for more. She got into his motions and inversely reacted to his motions; he’d get out while she got off, he drove in while she fell on, and so on. He felt her fluids flow all around his hips, her body heat and fluids mixed to keep him nice and warm against the dropping temperatures. Her pussy bled heat like a furnace, but was very comfortable inside. As he drove for the final time before resting he felt her grip him, it almost hurt how much she gripped him. He had to prop himself up to ease the pain, Eryka felt it but couldn’t seem to stop, not that she really wanted to stop but for her lover’s sake she fought her natural feelings and freed him. She felt him lie on the floor tired from the day and the sex. She lowered down and ground half of his cock, half in and half out, feeling his hard meat stick ooze precum and throb against her Gspot, he felt so wonderful. She felt his cock seemingly change, it convulsed and shivered as she ground, suddenly he rocketed deep inside her as an instinct while he came. His hot and thick cum shot inside her and some tingled her cervix while the rest mixed with her fluids along the sides of her uterus. Her whole vagina felt amazing, regardless she kept going; she wasn’t done. She continued to ride him for a good while, until her pussy had enough and she came. She slowly got off of Inbred so that he could get out. He came out covered in her love; he wondered how Hansel handles this. Eryka helped clean him off with a rag and stowed it, the floor would dry away. He dressed himself as Eryka wound down for the night; she still had her massive gun depressed fully. He climbed into a sleeping bag provided to him and he couldn’t help but look at Eryka’s huge size and feel like she faked it.

“Eryka, did you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

“Me, did you fake it?” She half-heartedly looked at him, she wanted to go to sleep badly.

“No, no babe I didn’t fake a thing.”

“But I’m like a mouse to you, the size difference is like, it’s like,” he searched through his mind for a comparison, “like a sausage and a hallway.” Eryka sheepishly chuckled.

“Baby, you are more than big enough to fill my needs.” She drug him over and kissed him lovingly. They kissed for a while before he retreated back to his cot and slept. Eryka woke up before the wake up alarm and woke Inbred. “I’ll show you why.”

“Why what?”

“You fill my needs.” She pulled him under and let him watch her expand and contract her vagina, he watched with interest, mystified on how such things happened. He had a morning wood and she decided to show him. She put his cock in while fully opened. “Here I barely feel you; you’re like a little tingle against me.” She started closing on him, until she was fully moaning and aroused; Inbred was simply in heaven. That morning, after they pulled a quickie, they met with Allison again. She was very inquisitive, concerned about why she was here. Inbred did his best to give account on the war, how it’s going, and who’s in charge but being very young during Hitler’s rise to power left many blanks in his history report. They exchanged a lot about each other, the three, and they shared their weaknesses. Eryka was prone to being overwhelmed by faster attackers and couldn’t stand cowards. Inbred was physically ‘weak’ and could not cope with laziness. Allison wasn’t too armored, a well-placed shot could render her immobile and start a fire, she also couldn’t hurt children, and she loved children too much. Whether friend or foe she couldn’t think of hurting any. She seemed to have a sixth sense about children, she was passing by a school on the way to the base and never knew it was a school but felt like there were children inside. She was right but it was an unmarked building, an average building actually, the original school was bombed by the allies. Later she was moved to the painting store and painted, she came out excited and happy, so was Eryka, but Inbred beheld a death-head in the making.

“How do I look?”

“Like you’d kill a Tommy just by glancing at him.”

“How about you Ralph? How do I look?” He wanted to warn her, tell her about what is on the way, but he couldn’t for it was too late. An SS car in the background halted and out stepped the SS officer.

“Just like Eryka said.” He looked her in the eyes and it scared her. I’m sorry, you have no idea. Inbred’s school was overrun by SS Brown shirts who stormed the building looking for Jews. They screamed at the children, threatened the teacher, beat down another teacher and nearly shot up a class of kids. All of this terror, danger, all of this hate for one nine year old boy. Inbred snapped to attention and so did the tanks, Allison and the Major were introduced, and after that she was taken by the Major, taken, brainwashed, and turned into a death-head. Eryka and Inbred didn’t agree with the transformation, but every now and then when they talked she acted like her old self. It resurrected their confidence in her humility. Time passed, training passed, and some love-making filled nights passed to quickly, and before they realized it they were a week away from being deployed to the front. This scared Eryka.

“Ralph, sugar.”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I’m sorry.” She grabbed him and enacted the change; she filled him up but felt he could bulk up some so she put more into his muscles. When she was done she caressed his body to help the muscles grow and cradled him close to her face, she used a nipple to feed him the nutrients he needed and to solidify that he grows. He instantly hated her for it, but later on he forgave her wholesomely. Allison liked the change; she said he looked a lot more intimidating.

“Eryka, baby, I love you so much.” He finally understood why Hansel did it, why he loved Marion. Love is love.

Fin Ch 34

I have a question: Do you all prefer me to post weekly in short chapters or spaced out posts with lots of info and consisting of a long read?

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HaM Chapter 31

Chapter 31! We start rolling along here, there’s really nothing sexual but instead more details on a pregnancy. Enjoy!

Chapter 31
Hansel and Marion were sitting together waiting for Whacker to get out of bed, he had a hangover, and they noticed that Hetz was coming by. The whole battalion was mobilizing, moving deeper inward of Germany to meet E, Irish, and Inbred at another town before moving with the assault force. Hetz wasn’t with Aston and nobody had seen him all day.
“Good morning Hetz, where’s Aston?” Marion asked. She wanted to see the box Hetz had made.
“He’s sleeping inside.” She rapped on her flank with a hand. “Excuse me; I have to go exchange my ammo for real shots.” She continued on her way.
“I still need to do that. These blanks are only half the weight, I feel empty.”
“When was the last time I slept inside you?” Marion thought.
“It was raining and we wanted to have fun.”
“Why would Aston be sleeping inside her?”
“Because..,” she stopped, “dammit.”
“I told you.”
“She still gave him something that wasn’t sex, Hansel.”
“Alright, we’ll split it fifty-fifty.”
“Sounds good to me.” They started towards the ammo depot, Whacker would be a while. By the time they got there Hetz was handing over her last blank and receiving her real ammo. Aston was dressed sitting on her roof with his legs straddling her gun mantle. “Good morning, Aston.”
“Good morning.” He twisted around, smiled and waved.
“Do you have the chest Hetz made you?” He nodded and pointed into the open hatch. Hetz retrieved it and handed it to Aston.
“Nice, isn’t it?”
“Very. I’d like to learn how to do that.” Hetz racked her last real shot and turned around.
“It took a lot of practice before I could make anything close to that. I can teach you.” Hetz talked to her about what area of her tendril finger to use for certain jobs and what good wood looked and felt like while Marion was switching out her ammo. This bored Hansel and Aston to death so they went to find Cindy and her snow fort.
“I don’t think it’s a snow fort.” Aston commented.
“Why else would she pile up that much snow?”
“I mean it was too shaped and specific to her for it to be a fort.”
“Nah she’s probably a control freak.”
“We are talking about Cindy, right?”
“Yeah.”
“No she is not a control freak.”
“You never know, maybe she’s just obsessive with details.”
“No, no. If it is a fort, then why did she want my tent sticks?”
“Use them as pikes. Or tank traps. Half of us here are tanks.”
“Maybe, maybe.” They waddled around in the thickening snow until they came across Cindy and her snow collection.
“Aston! Hansel!” She yelled when she saw them.
“I’ll be damned.”
“Told you it wasn’t a fort.”

Once Marion and Hetz were alone they started talking. “So did Aston have a good birthday?”
“The best. His words.”
“Really? Where did you two go after the fun?”
“Oh, places..,” she looked around, nobody was nearby. She inched closer to Marion, “we fucked.”
“Dammit.” Hetz was startled.
“Wha-?”
“Hansel and I bet that wasn’t your gift.”
“Well it wasn’t, more for fun and the hell of it. It just seemed convenient.”
“Where did you go? How far out? Hansel and I had to go all the way down to the stream last time.”
“Oh not far, not far at all. Only into the hedges out past the HQ.” Marion frowned.
“I can’t fit in there.”
“It was perfect for us! At first I was happy to finally use that condom. I’ve had that since May.”
“Wait, you know you don’t need it, right?”
“No we did. We went all the way through.” Marion was surprised.
“When we last did that I lost it. I had to get pregnant.” Hetz nodded.
“I’ve been there; it’ll pass in a month or two.”
“It’s been a month.” She lied, it’s been longer.
“Then you don’t have much longer before you’re fine.”
“Do you think it depends on my size?” Hetz thought.
“That may be in there. Go ask Gretchen how long hers was.” Gretchen was the female Tiger I. She was among the eldest of the bunch.
“Where does she usually stay?”
“Over here by the ditch. I’ll show you.” She led Marion to Gretchen, Hetz asked bluntly how long her ‘heat stage’ was and Gretchen answered four to five months.
“Marion you’ll probably be finished before Christmas.” She started talking about when she was where Marion is at. “Yeah, my best friend was a Panther and she was in it, too. She was in love with my brother, and they, well.., you know the legend about where Tiger twos are from?” Marion nodded. “It’s true. My brother is the father. When she got pregnant she didn’t tell my brother, not for a little while at least but everyone found out at stage two.”
“Stage two?” Marion asked.
“Oh, there are a few stages for pregnancy in us. First is just making more synthmetal, that builds up in the walls of your vagina, then when the actual construction starts your basket closes. Your entire hull essentially closes, the deck hatches lock and don’t open, the basket closes off the turret from the hull, and anything inside the hull that isn’t a part of you is pushed to the side or front. Well the ammo will stay racked, but it’s inaccessible. You know you’re in stage two when your basket closes.”
“Will I feel it?”
“Yes, it’s a gradual close overnight but you will feel it, especially when you try to turn your turret.”
“So I can’t turn my turret?”
“No you can but not as smooth as before.” Just then Hansel and Aston ran up to them.
“”Hey! You two need to come see this!” The four of them went back to where Cindy was playing in the snow. She sat proudly behind her creation.
“On my god this is amazing!”
“Look!” Cindy yelled out. She had made, out of snow, sticks, bark and rocks, four tanks. Three M4 Shermans and a massive Köingtiger all next to each other. “This is dad,” she pointed to the one on her far right, “this is mom,” she pointed to the one left of the dad, “this is Marion,” she pointed to the Köingtiger to her left, “this is Hansel,” she pointed to the pillar of snow all the way on the left, left of Snow Marion, “and this is me!” In the middle of Marion and the mom was a littler Sherman. The Shermans all had excellently shaped hulls and turrets. A stick jut out for the hull MG and below the chassis where it would be open space was stones to blacken it out. The tracks were made of bark and the wheels out of circular rocks. The hatches were bark, too, and the main gun barrels were the tent sticks. Marion was the same as the Shermans in terms of materials used for what but for her exhaust Cindy had found two tobacco pipes to use. On all the turrets were eyes and smiles. Hansel only had sticks for arms and two pebbles for eyes.
“I’m going to go get Derik.” Hetz announced, Derik had the camera for the battalion. She drove off with Aston to help her look. Frau with Canine and Faust with Anton passed her and were directed towards Cindy’s snow family. They, too, were amazed with it. They were all so used to war, hate, training to kill, and an eagerness to fight in battle, while this innocent child was in a carefree world, filled with once scary monsters that have become her family. It made the whole battalion rethink their lives, and what life meant. Once Derik arrived half the battalion had seen what she had made, and after some pleas and convincing, Derik took a picture of her and her snow family. Later they made a sign in English, French, German, and even Russian asking for nobody to tamper with the display. Kramia made the Russian sign and prayed that it never be interpreted. After that they rallied together, refueled, and left. Making headway deeper into German territory to meet the crossroads and group with the Fifth Panzer Army under the Forty-Seventh Panzer Division. They started off on their slow journey; Cindy wasn’t used to going this slow. She whined and complained on how slow they were going. Canine took her along with him and ran around the group, wearing himself and his worked engine out. Cindy was still ready to go, she circled Canine chanting “slow poke” in her playful tone.
“Sorry, Cindy, but ol’ me’s too tired. Go get Mini or Erin. They’re young.” Cindy ran around until she found Erin, the Panther A. She pleaded with Erin to play with her, and finally Erin broke and drove around with her. Erin’s crew jumped tank to Gretchen beforehand, they weren’t in the mood to fight inertia. Marion watched Cindy try to catch the faster Erin, Erin’s top speed was fifty-five kilometers per hour. The fastest Sherman the Germans have ever seen was at forty-six to forty-eight kilometers per hour. While Marion could probably get forty kilometers per hour on flat paved ground giving it everything she had in the field she could never reach that, unless she went downhill, of course. The whole column of tanks, because of an angry Jäger, only went twelve kilometers per hour, so the speedy mediums were making rounds around the column like racecars. But one thing that Cindy had over all the other mediums was endurance, after an hour or two Erin was done and it was Mini’s turn to play with Cindy. When he was tired Cindy was tired and she crawled along with Marion, pleading to slow down and stop. Marion set Cindy into neutral and towed her along while she slept after a morning of play. Meats looked at the situation and smiled but looked a little worried.
“Marion,”
“Yeah Meats?”
“Don’t get too attached to the Shermans.”
“Why?”
“They are still our enemy. If you show them mercy, they won’t do the same.”
Fin Chapter 31

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The HON HON HON intensifies

imageSomewhat inspired by Jester, It was about time I do some frenchies.

Ughn.. Tank porn is the best…cards

8QgO36R

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Hansel and Marion Ch. 30

Here’s the 30th insert of HaM. I’m probably going to just be doing HaM from now to a later chapter, just to get things rolling again. Every now and then I might post a story I’ve cooked up but needs thawing. Anyway, Enjoy!

Chapter 30

 

Marion was holding Hansel up to her side as they were refueling her, a little thing about the size of her turret came up to her side.

“Good morning Hetz.” The Hetzer nodded.

“Have any of you seen Aston? I haven’t seen him since sundown yesterday.” Hansel and Marion thought.

“I think I saw him going down to the town. I’m not too sure; it might have been someone else.” Hansel said. Marion squeezed him a little.

“Okay, thanks. What street?”

“Can’t remember.”

“Do you know, Marion?”

“No I don’t.” The little Hetzer looked disappointed. Her green eyes were in the vision slots on her hull face. Her mouth sat about the gun’s level when it was parallel to the ground. She turned her little chassis around and went to go ask other people. “Hansel we weren’t supposed to say anything!”

“I tried! It’s instinctive, Marion.”

“We weren’t supposed to know anything, he trusted us with this.”

“I know but how hard is it to find condoms?”

“What if that’s not her gift to him?”

“It was your gift to me, and you said yourself you didn’t have much to give.”

“I’m not that creative. I could have made something if I had an idea. Maybe she’s creative.” Hansel looked her in the eye.

“He was too excited for it not to be sex.” Marion rolled her eyes. “Cindy’s coming back.” Marion looked where Hansel was, Frau was escorting her to Marion while checking to make sure Cindy’s new barrel splint was holding well.

“Mom look!” Marion froze and thought again. What? Did she.., call me mom? “Marion look! I got a new spint!”

“Splint, Cindy, it’s a splint.” Frau corrected her. Marion looked at it; it was Cindy’s shade of green and looked like a picket fence was wrapped around her little gun. Underneath was the shiny silver metal growing back into place to reattach her gun.

“I can feel my gun again!” She rolled up to Marion’s side.

“You can? So you can feel this?” She used a finger to circle Cindy’s gun muzzle. Cindy giggled then laughed.

“Stop! That tickles!” Hansel smiled at her. Marion found out that her gun muzzle was ticklish when they tried putting bushes all over her as an ambush camouflage. Marion stopped and complimented her new gun splint. Cindy then went over to a pile of snow and toyed with it, she’s been toying with it ever since it started to snow. Hansel and Marion went over to the bunks and fetched Whacker, Banker, and Meats before they went off for training that day. Hetz also went, even without a commander. The Colonel said it’d be good for her to practice being more aware of her surroundings.

 

Cindy looked at the snow pile; she sculpted the front round and beveled the top of the other sides. She left two rumps on the frond and put a stick below the right rump. She went off towards the hill she would collect her snow from and got a hefty sized ball and placed it in the middle of the set snow pile. She was getting a thick stick from a tree near the road to the city when she spotted a lone figure walking down the road towards her, it was pulling a small sled with things on the back.

“Hey! You!”

“Hey there, Cindy!” The figure jogged over and ducked behind her. “Did they go train?”

“Yes. I kept my promise!”

“You did?”

“Yeah, I did. I didn’t tell anyone!”

“That’s great.”

“What did you get?”

“I got some wrappers, some sweets, a cake, some blankets, beer and a coin.”

“Whadya get for me?” She asked childishly. The man turned to the sled and lifted the cover, rustled through a box and pulled out a chocolate bar.

“I got you this!” He handed it to her. “You’ve never had anything like German chocolate, nothing comes close!”

“Thanks, Aston!”

“You earned it, it cost me six bucks for that.” Aston started to the barracks when Cindy stopped him.

“Were there any big sticks on the road?” Aston turned around and rustled through the stuff again.

“No, but I have these you can use.” He handed her four long poles that went to a winter shelter. “What are they for?”

“You’ll see later.” Aston went back to the barracks and set up for the others to return. When they did they were anxious to see if Aston was back. Hetz was the first back; she was caught off-guard as Aston jumped up onto her stern slope and surprised her. “I’m back.”

“Holy-!” She instinctively threw him off but half-heartedly. She realized who he was and grabbed him before her push could throw him over Faust (who was behind her) and land on Canine. Aston just had a jolt back and was held over the ground. “Aston you scared the shit out of me!”

“I saw.” She pulled him to her roof and hugged him.

“Happy birthday, baby! Did I hurt you?”

“No, my chest hurts like a bitch actually. Otherwise I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” She massaged his chest. The hatches opened and the sweaty crew emerged. They looked towards the barracks and beheld the kegs of beer that appeared there. Whacker had Marion’s hatch open and they were downwind.

“Guys.., do you smell it too?” Sniffing noises came from Marion’s mantle.

“Yeah, what is that?”

“That’s German beer, brewed to perfection in a German highland brewery and fermented to perfection!”

“Marion meet Whackaholic, the other form of Whacker.” Meats said as he leaned against the inside of Marion’s turret. Hansel had a damp rag to his forehead, in one of the maneuvers Marion hit the brakes and stopped hard while Hansel was in the cupola. Hansel did not stop.

“Yay, Whackaholic.” Was all Hansel said. Soon a small celebration began. They weren’t just celebrating Aston’s birthday, they were also celebrating the Major’s promotion but above all they were celebrating their orders: move to the front and support an offensive. Meats was still in Marion’s turret with his cover low over his eyes.

“Meats, you going to join us?”

“Nah, I’m not a big party guy. Tell the Major he has my congrats. She closed his hatch to muffle the sound and let him sleep. Everyone was distributed one mug of beer, but Whackaholic would smoothly switch mugs with whoever was nearby. Ten minutes in and he had switched four mugs and was looking for a fifth to switch with. Hansel handed his mug to Marion, who gave hers to Whackaholic.

“Give it a try, babe.” She smiled and took a sip.

“Strong, better than the last one.”

“See? I told you that old beer was shit.” He took a gulp from his mug then kissed Marion.

“You’ve got beer breath, already.”

“Yeah, that happens quickly.” Everybody started to gather around Aston and Hetz, Hetz had something to give Aston. “Let’s see what it is, shall we?” He climbed onto her roof and watched. Hetz opened a tool box on the side of her hull and removed an elegantly crafted wooden chest about six inches long by three inches wide by three inches tall.

“Here, Aston. I made this for you.” She handed him the box. It was all wood construction with lubed wood hinges, it was beach wood with dark oil-soaked edges. It had a flower embroiled pattern with elegant vines on the corners and his name embroiled across the front in beautiful German cursive. It looked like something straight out of Elizabethan society. “Sorry it’s all flowers, it’s all I had to go off of for the time.”

“No, no, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” They kissed in front of the others. The others cheered and laughed, making the pair blush. “You made this?”

“I did.”

“It’s amazing, how’d you make it?” She used one of her fingers on her hand, using the inside corner of her finger she blunted the edge of the wood toolbox on her side.

“Like that, only more gentle.”

“I love it, Hetz, this is the best thing I’ve ever had.” Marion looked to Hansel.

“I told you it wasn’t sex.” Hansel chuckled.

“Just wait; we’ll see how he is in the morning.” Later that night, after the celebration ended and the drunk were thrown in bed, Hetz had Aston alone.

“Hey Aston do you really like the box, now that we’re alone?” He studied the exterior.

“Eh, it could use a bit more color but I’m happy with what it is.”

“Great. There is some more to it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, push on the back edge of the bottom panel.” He did as she told him, he heard a pop from inside and he opened it to check, his scared expression turned to that of amusement.

“You put in a false bottom; damn you’re good at this.”

“That’s not all I put in.” She kept glancing into the box until Aston did too, he moved the false bottom and pulled out a single condom package. “That box is only half of your night.” He looked at her amazed. “So, what do you think birthday boy?”

“How in hell did you get a condom?”

“You let me worry about that!” She pulled him into a huge and dark hedge grove and turned on a dim flashlight. They were kissing then; she undid his belt with novice skill and worked the buttons from his shirt. She reached into his underwear and grabbed her dinner and tenderized it until it was nice and strong, he yanked his clothes off and threw the clothes near the covered entrance, and she pulled him up onto her glacis plate and grabbed his rock hard dick. “Give it to me Aston!” He slid into her lips as she licked them; her mouth structure put his cock straight down in a tight mouth. Her teeth retracted so it was just her lips, tongue, and throat. Aston was never in a better place.

Her mouth was a tad bigger than a human mouth simply because of her tiny size and confined interior, so it was as good a blow job as any prostitute could give. Her throat gripped his head and her mouth held his shaft, his base was circled by her lips and his cock belly was locked into submission by her tongue. Aston was limp on her front, she held him there with his burly chest in her face. She had her eyes closed, letting the flavor and feeling engulf her in exotic memory. She was swallowing her saliva to coax Aston’s senses into spewing his seed, and every time she swallowed he moaned loud and true. He pulled out a little bit and thrusted in repeatedly, humping her fast. His cock felt too good, he quickly felt his cum arising. He moaned and groaned louder and faster, Hetz knew what was coming. He suddenly pulled out and came on her faceplate. She felt his glops of hot cum fall onto her face just below her viewport and noticed that the drops were drawing closer to her mouth. She smiled as a glop fell upon her extended teeth; her tongue licked his semen off her teeth.

Aston groaned, he was suddenly cold again. He looked into Hetz’s eyes as she probed the semen already freezing to her warm body. In her eyes he saw her lust; she wasn’t finished with his gift yet. Hetz felt the cold air dry his sperm onto her hull, she remembered that all he had on was his socks; not snow gear. She knew what to do instantly. She wrapped around his waist and moved him to her side; she then pushed against the ground on that side and propelled herself onto her opposing side. That’s when she held herself perpendicular to the ground and put Aston’s feet on her road wheels, his cock right in front of her heat-bleeding pussy. Without words Aston knew she was ready, he pushed his head against her vulva and broke the seal. A strong feeling of warmth emanated from her and warmed his core fast. He pressed his hips against her belly and let her body heat mingle with his until they were the same, then he braved the journey out of the warm comfort and retreated into the cold before returning to her comfort again and again.

“Harder, Aston, harder!” Suddenly she slammed her cervix against his head and felt all of his skin on the wall of the cervix, too much. “Wait!”

“Why?” She plucked him out and tried to roll the condom onto his wet cock. “Let me help you, baby.” He grabbed her hand and guided her through the motions.

“Alright baby,” she shoved one of her injector tendrils into her vagina to open the cervix, “prepare for the best gift you’ve ever had!” He pushed his way in, both were moaning and groaning and grunting as he penetrated deep into her very tight, hot, and wet cervix. Her engine turned over with every hump he did, rocking her chassis with his motions. Eventually he gained pace as her pussy slackened on grip and adjusted to his presence. Aston put great power behind his thrusts to really rock his girl, and she felt it. Every thrust would make her arms bend a little before they righted themselves straight again. The whole feeling they got out of it was immense, both were mind numb, and they could feel everything about the other. Aston wanted this night to never end, so did Hetz, they slipped away from reality and into heaven where they were the only ones there. They lost themselves so much that Aston forgot that that building of the awesome feeling was his orgasm approaching, he came without knowing it. Hetz felt his convulsions but knew he had a condom, she also knew that her orgasm was building and encouraged Aston to keep going. When Aston heard her say that she was close to cumming he jolted out to make sure the condom didn’t tear, it didn’t but still grossed him out. He pulled off the condom and wiped off his cock before Hetz’s pleads got to him. He slid back in and out, taking in all he could before her tightening pussy suddenly gave and she came. He pulled out and was instantly hit by the cold. “Why does it have to end so early, baby?”

“It doesn’t have too,” he leaned against her and kissed her belly, “I’ve some more in my back pocket.” She snaked into his discarded pants and pulled out three condom packets.

“How in hell did you get these?”

“You let me worry about that!” Before the night was old they had burned through the condoms and Hetz was righting herself. As her treads slammed against the snow again she collected his clothes and helped Aston into her hull. She laid her belly in the snow and used a blanket to tuck in Aston lying on her floor. It was as hot as ever inside her, a tiny and cramped space where four men in heavy clothes worked the day. He loved this tiny space, he loved this ‘tiny’ woman, and he loved this tiny world- unsure of how much longer he or anyone he knows will inhabit it.

Fin Chapter 30

“Утюг сука”

DISCLAIMER: This story contains some themes and content that most will find uncomfortable, namely the rape of an 17 year old German male by a female Soviet IS-2. You have been warned.

Утюг сука”

Willi Höfler slowly reached up beneath the brim of his Stahlhelm and wiped the sweat from his brow, listening to the harsh, man-made thunder of artillery in the distance. He tightened his white-knuckled grip around the battered Italian Carcano rifle as the ripping sound of incoming shells passed overhead and shook the building around him. He coughed and covered his mouth to keep from breathing in the dust and soot that filtered down from the charred beams overhead. At seventeen years old he was barely old enough to grow a beard, but he could feel the dusting of blond hairs on his gaunt, dirty cheeks. He glanced around the room with tired eyes, hearing the quiet sniffling from one of the younger kids who had failed to hide their fear. There were seven of them – teenage boys, girls, kids as young as fourteen – all exhausted and filthy, huddled in the burnt-out shell of what had once been a delightful pastry shop. Willi’s parents had taken him here last year for his birthday; the increasing wartime shortages had made the small cake a special treat. It was the cruelest of ironies that he was likely going to die here exactly one year later.

The date was April 27th, and Willi lived in Hell.

If there was a better way to describe the current state of Berlin, he could not think of it. The once-proud capital of the Third Reich had been shattered and laid to waste by years of Allied bombing raids. Day and night the bombers of the United States and Great Britain had come to drop their explosive payloads, reducing entire swathes of the city to rubble. Hundreds of thousands had been killed by a rain of death that the Luftwaffe seemed increasingly powerless to stop, and countless others had simply fled the city to escape such a fate. Of those that remained behind, many were starving and malnourished. Clean water was in short supply, the pressure gone from the shattered pipes. Without plumbing, people simply dumped their refuse in the streets, spreading disease. Fires raged until they ran out of things to burn, and the unreachable dead rotted beneath the debris. Berlin was a city destroyed long before the Russians even arrived…

But now, the barbarian hordes howled for blood at the gates, a horrifying reversal of fortune from 1941 when the might of Germany had seemed unstoppable. Poland, France, Denmark, Norway, Belgium, the Low Countries, Greece, and Yugoslavia had all fallen to the superiority of the German soldier, and the armies of the Reich were poised at Moscow’s throat. Rommel was kicking the Tommys all over North Africa, while the Luftwaffe’s bombers struck at London. Victory had been all but assured, and the Greater German Reich would stand astride all of Europa in a new and glorious age! But one by one, the branches of the Wehrmacht had been been beaten back: the Kriegsmarine, the Luftwaffe, and the Heer. Now, not only had the Bolsheviks reconquered the lands lost to the Reich since 1941, but they had invaded the Fatherland itself! In the West, the Amis had crossed the Rhine after retaking France and Belgium, and were also pushing hard towards Berlin.

Only the most ardent supporters of National Socialism still believed the words of victory coming from Goebbels’ propaganda ministry. It was clear that the Führer’s vaunted Wunderwaffen had failed to break the will of the Allies, and in response he had tasked every man, woman, and child left in Berlin with the final defense of the city. For months they had labored, digging anti-tank ditches, erecting bunkers and barricades, and making tank traps from the endless rubble, transforming it into a fortress that would finally break the back of the Soviet advance. And as the Red Army closed in on the city, the Volkssturm, alongside the ragged remains of the Schutzstaffel and the Wehrmacht, would be the last soldiers of the Third Reich.

Willi instinctively flinched as another swarm of Soviet rockets – the damned ‘Stalin’s Organ’ – howled overhead like demons. Eight days ago, those defenses constructed at Seelow Heights had finally crumbled under the weight of the Red Army after a pitched, four day battle. The next day, the Russians had started shelling Berlin and hadn’t stopped firing since. He had thought it impossible for the city to become even more ravaged than it already was, but the relentless artillery barrage had proved him wrong. Buildings already damaged by the bombings were simply collapsing, burying those hiding within under tons of concrete and steel. Each day, the sound of gunfire and tank cannon got a little louder, a little closer to the city center. The Russians had already crossed the Teltow Canal, swarming towards the Reichstag at the center of Berlin and crushing all resistance in their way.

But the encroaching Red Army wasn’t the only thing that the terrified Berliners had to worry about either. As the Reich collapsed around them, the SS grew increasingly fanatical and relentless in their methods. Anyone, soldier or civilian, suspected of cowardice or desertion was rounded up and executed. Death squads roamed the city, shooting and hanging those they believed were trying to abandon their posts. Now bloated bodies hung from the trees and lampposts like demented fruit, and blackened blood congealed and drew flies in the streets. Signs around their neck proclaimed messages of their treasonous acts to dissuade others from following their example.

The Dark Ages had returned to Germany.

But Willi was not going to desert. He truly believed that it was his duty as a good German to defend the Fatherland and the Reich, even if the latter was becoming an increasingly hollow concept. To run away would be to abandon his friends and family, and to spit in the face of those who had already given their lives in his defense. Even if he had wanted to flee, his squad of Volkssturm had been taken over by an SS-Oberscharführer named Uwe Gottschalk, a hawkish man who had been fighting the Soviets since Barbarossa. He would have likely shot any of them if he had suspected they might desert. Indeed, one of the younger boys had fled a couple of nights ago and Uwe had beaten the other two members of his foxhole until they were black and blue, screaming at the two boys as tears ran down their cheeks and snot bubbled from their noses. No, Willi was not dumb enough to desert his comrades.

Gottschalk paced back and forth in front of the shattered windows like a caged tiger, with willful disdain for the chaos raging outside. “The bolsheviks are approaching!” The man shouted, “But they are walking straight into our jaws! Their panzers are vulnerable in our streets! Their own artillery hampers their movement!” He stabbed his finger in the direction of Tempelhof Airport, which had been besieged by the Soviets for several days now. “Our comrades valiantly resist the Russians with their every breath! The Führer expects all of us to do the same! We will fight them here, we will stop them here! The future of the Reich is counting on us!” The younger members of the group watched in awe at the man’s confidence. With such a fine example of Aryan superiority leading them, how could they lose? Uwe then locked his steely gaze on Willi, making a chill run down his spine. “Volkssturmmann Höfler! How many Panzerfausts do we have left?”

Willi lunged to his feet, the rifle clattering at his side as he stood at attention. “We have eight Panzerfausts remaining, herr Oberscharführer!” He barked, his back straight. As the oldest ‘soldier’ under Uwe’s command, he had been tasked with keeping track of the group’s supply of anti-tank weapons. The Panzerfaust was a true Wunderwaffe: cheap to produce, easy to use, and effective. Even though he had never fired one at an enemy tank before, he had seen a public demonstration on how even the least-trained Hitlerjugend could still use it with ease. But while German factories had once produced them by the thousands, now it seemed that there were never enough to go around. When they ran out of the ones they had, would they be able to get more?

Uwe nodded and slowly met all their eyes, looking around the room. “The Russian panzers are fearsome, but the Russian soldier is a dog! They are untrained, illiterate subhumans tainted by the sins of Bolshevism and Jewry! Without their armor to hide behind, they are useless! Now, this is what we will do…” He pointed down at a crude map of the intersection drawn in the dust on one of the cafe’s tables. “Myself and Volkssturmmann Höfler will take positions here. We will use the Panzerfausts to destroy the advancing panzers. This will block the road and force their other tanks to withdraw, where they will be savaged by our mines and 88s. Their infantry will be forced by their masters to advance even without their armor, and that is when the rest of you will strike!” Uwe pointed to several spots on the ‘map’. “Here and here! Two soldiers each with rifles. The machine gun will be set up on the second floor of this building. You will cover our withdrawl, and then fall back when I give the signal!” Two boys, both of them barely sixteen, stood sharply by the old MG 34 and saluted. Uwe looked around the room again, making sure he commanded their attention. “Do you all understand?” Dirty faces nodded in reply.

Willi thought quietly about the Oberscharführer’s plan as he crouched down by one of two crates stored behind the charred countertop, opening one of them to reveal the four Panzerfausts stored within. He quickly slung the rifle over his shoulder and retrieved a weapon for himself and Gottschalk. Despite his ruthlessness, Uwe understood that they would have to bleed the Soviets and then fall back, trading space for time. Throwing away his soldiers’ lives was a wasteful act. But the problem was, they just didn’t have much space left…or time. Willi hefted the Panzerfausts and set one on the table by Uwe, shards of glass crunching beneath his boots as he peered out into the street from one of the shattered windows.

His beloved Berlin was a wasteland, the air thick with smoke and dust. Not a single building stood undamaged, the streets filled with the scattered rubble of a civilization. Vehicles lay abandoned at the sides of the street, their tires long gone and their fuel tanks long empty. Sandbags and crude tank traps had been constructed out of anything and everything. Ditches and trenches had been dug into the streets, craters made by Russian artillery were used as shallow foxholes and fighting positions for anti-tank guns. Street trams had been packed to the roof with loose rubble and shoved into place to form crude barricades. The morbid joke ran that it would take the Russians twenty minutes to bypass those ‘fortifications’ – ten minutes to stop laughing at them, and then ten minutes to drive through them.

Oberscharführer Gottschalk again took the lead, striding out through the window and into the street. “Follow me, Volkssturmmann Höfler.” He ordered, holding the Panzerfaust firmly in his grasp. He turned to address his assembled ‘soldiers’ once more. “You all know what is at stake! Bleed the Soviets for every inch of ground! Make them regret ever setting a foot inside the Reich! Heil Hitler!

Heil Hitler!” Seven voices howled in reply. Their confidence bolstered, the German youths rushed to their ambush positions as Willi followed Uwe up along the street of shredded automobiles and scattered rubble. Already the sound of small arms and tank cannon was louder than it had been five minutes ago. He could hear the snarling of diesel engines, the metallic squealing of tracks as the Soviet tanks probed the city’s defenses. Undeterred by the noise, Uwe strode forward without even bothering to take cover. Willi wasn’t sure if this was bravery or insanity, but he held his helmet a little tighter against his head and hurried along behind the man. They rounded a gentle bend in the street, but one that would hide the waiting machine gun from any infantry that decided to follow them.

This is where we will wait.” Uwe gestured to a pile of rubble that had spilled out into the street from a collapsed house. Some of it had already been piled into a low ‘wall’ of sorts by some thoughtful Berliner in preparation for using it as a defensive position. “Quickly, get yourself into position.” He ordered, “They should be here any minute.” Uwe crouched down behind the rubble pile and began preparing the Panzerfaust. Willi shuffled into place beside him, quickly removing the pin holding the warhead to the launcher. The primer was already inserted into the weapon, despite that making it not ‘safe’. But in this instance, having the weapon ready to fire at a moment’s notice was more important than safety. His stomach churned with nervousness, glancing over the debris again and again, each time expecting the Russians to suddenly be there.

The minutes began to bleed together into a nerve-wracking stretch where each echo, each crack of a distant shot, made Willi cringe. A chunk of brick was jabbing into his stomach, but he didn’t dare reach down to move it. More artillery thundered down on Templehof, bombarding the German strongpoint there. ‘At least the Amis aren’t bombing us now…’ He thought sardonically. The encirclement of Berlin by the Soviets meant that the other Allied Powers had ceased their bombing raids, out of concerns of harming the Russians. Willi would have given anything to see one of those devastating bombing raids falling on the heads of the Communists, even if it meant having to endure more of them himself.

He jumped as a diesel engine snarled just up the street, the sound of metal scraping against the cobblestones echoing off the shattered walls. Willi peeked up over the edge of the rubble just a bit and then promptly ducked back down when he saw the blunt snout of a Soviet T-34-84 appear around the corner. The commander was cautious, stopping to inspect the street in front of him. Brown-clad infantry huddled around the tank, shielded from attack by the machine’s metal bulk. The city was eating up tanks and men like a wolf ate rabbits. But there were so many rabbits…even a wolf got full. Uwe must have sensed Willi tensing because he shoved Willi back down against the ground before he even realized that he was starting to stand. “Not yet.” He growled, glaring at the Soviet panzer. “Wait until you know you will hit…” Willi didn’t like that, not one bit. That meant they would be more than close enough to hit him back. He held no illusions of his ability to dodge machine gun fire.

The T-34-85’s commander finally decided to continue his advance, the engine roared and gushed exhaust as the tank pivoted in place, lurching into motion towards them. The infantry advanced with the tank, men carrying rifles and submachine guns. At least ten of them, Willi counted. Laying there, watching the tank approach, and being able to do nothing made every part of Willi want to get up a run. Get up and scream. Get up and do something, anything! He could feel the weight of the tank vibrating through the ground like an earthquake, fragments of brick and mortar skittering off the pile of rubble. “Not yet.” Uwe repeated, and then again. “Not yet.” That blunt machine gun at the front of the tank pivoted from side to side, looking for targets. Targets like him. Soviet soldiers were close enough that he could see the whites of their eyes, some starting to move in front of the tank. They were going to be spotted if –

Now!” Uwe lunged up from behind the rubble pile when the T-34-85 was no more than ten meters away, leveling his Panzerfaust at the tank barreling towards them. Bang! The high explosive shaped charge lashed out and slammed into the Soviet tank’s hull, detonating in a flash of flame and smoke. Fragments of molten metal spanged off the cobblestones as the tank ground to a shrieking halt. Willi thought he could hear the agonized screams of the crew inside, but the sound was drowned out by a volcanic rumbling that grew in volume as flames gushed from the hull and the hatches. A human torch managed to claw itself halfway out of the commander’s cupola before the entire turret blew off, a massive fireball of exploding ammunition and burning diesel lobbing the several ton turret into the air. The hunk of flaming metal arched over and smashed through the side of a building, showering rubble down onto the street below. A pall of noxious, greasy smoke boiled up from the wreck and flooded the street with choking fumes.

Willi cautiously peered over the rubble and stared at the blazing, mangled wreckage, shielding his face from the searing heat. Sheets of flame raged from the twisted hole where the turret had once been; strips of molten rubber dripped down from the bogies onto the shattered tracks. The infantry that had been advancing with the tank were nowhere to be seen, driven back by the savage heat and the destruction of their armored shield. Even though he could hardly breathe, a savage cheer clawed its way up out of his throat, his heart pounding with panicked elation. The Russians had been driven off by their stinging attack! With the street blocked by the wreckage, the Soviet tanks would have to withdraw and find a new route, and the chokepoint would leave any infantry that slipped through vulnerable to small arms. For one small moment in time, Germany was victorious again!

It was only then that Willi realized that he had pissed himself.

The victory evaporated the instant another powerful engine roared, turning his stomach to a black pit of ice. Tracks squealed and rattled, the sound growing louder and closer with each moment. As he watched in horror, the burning hulk of the T-34 was smashed aside in a storm of sparks and rent metal by the biggest tank he had ever seen. The cobblestones crumbled beneath its sheer bulk, nearly twice that of the ruined T-34. The gun sticking out of the broad-faced turret stretched on for miles. Black smoke and fire whorled around the hull, burning diesel dripping from the tracks as it drove through the blazing fluids of its wrecked comrade, making it look like it had just emerged from the bowels of Hades itself. Willi was frozen to the ground, petrified by the icy claws of fear tearing into his guts.

Scheiße!” Uwe cursed, “IS-2!” Willi didn’t care what it was, he had to get away from that thing before it killed him! Finally in that primal part of the human brain leftover from when we were rodents scurrying under the feet of giants, Willi’s flight response finally overrode the paralysis of his higher thoughts. He pushed himself to his feet and turned to bolt, but Gottschalk grabbed him by the collar and hurled him back down to the ground. Uwe slapped him across the face and jerked him back to the rubble pile. “Fire your Panzerfaust, you fucking coward!” He bellowed, his eyes alight in rage and…something more frightening. “Fire it, or we’re both fucking dead!” Willi’s hands were suddenly clammy with sweat, shaking as he snapped the leaf sights into position, sighting it on the approaching monster. It was so close and so large that he could hardly miss… The trigger gave a brief instant of resistance beneath his fingers… Bang!

The launcher jumped in his hands, spitting a ten-foot plume of flame and exhaust out behind him. The warhead smashed against the turret of the IS-2 in a shower of sparks and smoke. Willi’s heart leaped for an instant, thinking he had actually slain this mechanized Goliath, but then the metal beast rumbled on as if though it hadn’t even felt the rocket carom off its armored hide. He dropped the empty Panzerfaust tube and scrambled to his feet before Uwe could grab at him again, bolting back towards the ambush site as fast as his feet would carry him. His lungs burned as he ran, his heart clenched in his chest, tears streamed down his cheeks. He felt his ankle wrench as he stepped on a brick, but he didn’t stop. He caught movement at the edge of his peripheral vision and made the mistake of looking back over his shoulder.

As brave as he was, as vicious as he was, even Gottschalk knew when it was time to retreat from a lost fight. The SS officer was also running from the tank as quickly as he could, though his face lacked the look of pure terror that Willi knew was plastered on his own. He didn’t want to think about the reaming out that he would receive from the SS officer when they escaped. If Uwe didn’t execute him for cowardice, he would consider that a miracle. As it turned out, he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. The bow gun on the IS-2 opened up with an absurd hammering noise. Dust and chips of stone kicked up around Gottschalk’s feet, sparks jumped from the car husks he was dodging between. Another burst of fire nearly chopped him in half, throwing his body to the ground in a spray of blood and dust without even a cry of pain.

Willi rounded the bend as fast as his ankle would carry him, pain wrenching up his leg. If he could just get another Panzerfaust..! A rifle bullet cracked past his head, and then a machine gun opened up, stitching a line of impacts only a foot in front of him. He yelped as fragments nipped at his ankles and he tripped, slamming against one of the abandoned cars. The machine gun made a different sound than the stuttering Russian gun…it was the MG34! It was their machine gun! The ambush was shooting at him! Now Willi was the one screaming in rage as bullets snapped overhead, rattling against the car’s body and keeping him pinned down, but his allies couldn’t hear him. They just kept firing in their excitement. Willi never thought he could imagine a situation where he hoped his own side ran out of ammunition, but here it was!

He could hear the tank coming, the sound of metal smashing as it shoved cars off the road or crumpled them like tin cans beneath its weight. The gun poked around the shallow bend in the road, the turret rotated enough that he could see the Cyrillic writing painted crudely in white on the green metal. ‘Утюг сука’. Sparks started dancing across the front glacis and turret of the the tank as the boys shifted their fire to the obviously more threatening target. Willi jumped to his feet again, feeling his ankle flare in protest at the abuse, but this was his only chance! Another rifle bullet, Soviet this time, ricocheted off the hood of the car he was trying to clamber over, tugging briefly at his sleeve as it sliced a hole in the fabric. The IS-2 lumbered to a stop, the turret slowly rotating as it aimed at the winking muzzle flash from above the bakery…

A flash of white fire erupted from the IS-2’s massive cannon, the pressure wave snatching at his uniform. Willi screamed and clutched at his deafened ears, dust and the stench of gun smoke were literally rammed down his nose and throat. The machine gun instantly stopped firing, the MG34 and the two boys manning it obliterated by the shot. The Panzerfausts downstairs in the bakery also detonated in their crates, adding to the destruction that blew the building to rubble. Fragments of brick and splinters of glass rained down around him, but half-maddened by the concussion Willi didn’t even notice. Blood trickled from his ruptured eardrums, a shrill ringing screamed inside his skull. Hot tears blurred his vision into a mush, but he could still make out the shape of the damned IS-2 looming over him. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the machine gun rounds to tear into his body…but they never came.

One minute and an eternity later, he was still breathing. Willi slowly opened his eyes, blinking rapidly to clear away some of the tears. The IS-2 sat motionless only meters away, its engine idling loud enough to hurt his damaged ears. “What?” He rasped at the tank, his throat raw from the smoke and from screaming. The Soviets inside must be laughing at him. “What are you waiting for?! Kill me!” He suddenly didn’t care anymore. Death would be better than suffering like this! He scooped a chunk of stone from the street and hurled it against the IS-2’s hull. “Verdammt Sie! Just kill me!”

The engine snarled and the tank lurched forward, clanking on heavy tracks. Willi flinched and tried to scramble back with his hands, his momentary defiance evaporating in a blink. They were going to crush him beneath the tracks! He tried to get to his feet and run, but he had no balance and fell to the trembling earth. He sobbed and scrabbled at the ground, trying desperately, frantically, to drag himself out of the way. Too slow, he would never make it. Tracks screeched and kicked up sparks and dust from the street, the massive tank grinding to a halt only inches away from crushing him into red paste. Its engine rumbled in a way that sounded like heavy breathing, white fumes drifting up from the exhausts. Willi stared up at the metal behemoth, quivering like a leaf on an autumn tree.

Vyyti. Ya budu zabotit’sya o etom.” A voice growled loudly from within the tank. Willi understood no Russian, but it was a woman’s voice! His tormentor was a woman! There were quieter voices from inside the armored hull, but these he could not make out as clearly. “Ya skazal vyyti! Teper’ !” The brutish-sounding woman boomed, even louder than before. Then to Willi’s utter astonishment, the hatches on the tank opened. One by one, the crew of the tank slowly climbed out from the top of the turret, their bodies filthy and sweaty. Their uniforms were in tatters, and it was obvious that they had not bathed in weeks. Despite his disorientation, Willi couldn’t help but stare in disbelief and dismay. These were the people that had beaten Germany? They were walking wrecks! The four of them glared vitriol at him too, as if though this was his fault, but then they shrugged and seemed resigned to the situation, gradually fanning out to stretch and relieve themselves. What in Hell was going on? Then Willi abruptly realized that not a single one of them were women.

The IS-2’s engine revved again, the tank shuddering as that broad turret began to rotate – there was still someone inside the tank! Willi was too close for the massive cannon to aim directly at him, but the turret stopped turning when it faced him. Then an eye opened up on the right side of the turret, just beside the gun mantlet, glaring down at him. Willi’s thoughts went utterly blank. He was certain that he had just gone insane. Or maybe he was dead after all. Either one of those explanations were more plausible to him than the fact that the tank was staring at him! That cycloptic eye seemed to sneer, the blackened smear of gouged metal where his Panzerfaust had hit gouged over the it like a scar. “Knabe komm.” The tank growled in crude, thickly accented German.

To compound the living nightmare in front of him, a seething cluster of metallic cables slithered out from beneath the tank’s chassis, snaking across the ground directly towards him. All rationality fled as the first of those cables snared around his ankle. “N-Nein! Nein!” He screamed, kicking at the cable as it slithered up his leg. A second cable whipped around his other ankle and together they began dragging him towards the tank. He tried to find something, anything to grab hold of, but there was nothing. He didn’t even know where his rifle had gone. “Let go of me! What is happening?!” He looked over and saw more Soviet infantry cautiously advancing further into the city. “Help me! Ich gebe auf! I surrender!” He sobbed, pleading with the stone-faced Russians. He’d rather face them than what was happening to him! But they saw the tank and pointedly ignored him, leaving him to his fate.

Vyyti izvivayas’, malen’kiy cherv’!” The tank…shouted at him, and a metal gauntlet cracked across his face. His ears rang even worse than before, the stinging pain threatened to make him black out. More cables looped under his armpits and around his chest, binding him tightly. Another curled dangerously around his throat, the firm pressure choking off his protests. He felt the tendrils tighten further and haul him off the ground as though he weighed no more than a sack of potatoes. Willi kept trying to struggle against his bonds as much as he could, yelping in sudden pain as he cracked his shins against the spare tracks bolted to the tank’s lower glacis. “Ya skazal, brosit’ dvigat’sya!” Another slap, harder than the first, brought him to the ragged edge of unconsciousness.

When the blackness finally retreated from his vision, Willi was sprawled face up on the tank’s hull, his arms and legs pulled spread eagle over the upper glacis like a prisoner on a torturer’s rack. The driver’s viewport jammed painfully against his spine, and those metal cables coiled so tightly around his wrists and ankles that he did not have the strength to move them by even an inch. The metal of the tank’s hull was rough and pitted from crude construction and battle damage, and uncomfortably hot. He could feel the vibrations from the engine, and the sharp bite of diesel fumes hanging thick in the air made it difficult to breathe.

The tank’s cannon hovered over him, his head only centimeters below the mantlet. Thick, silvery fluid dripped from the metal and onto his face, his skin tingling wherever the liquid touched. He sputtered and tried to turn his head away, but one of those metal hands grabbed his hair and yanked his head back into place. The heat radiating from the tank grew nearly oppressive as the cannon began elevating towards the sky, a gray seam widening in the green-painted metal. It seemed to twitch and pulse before his eyes, looking…alive. He felt a hand claw at his uniform, sharp metal fingers knifing into his collar. With alarming ease, the hand raked down the front of his coat and shirt, ripping the fabric apart and exposing his chest. Again and again her claws struck, shredding his dirty uniform into scraps of fabric that barely clung to his body. Pips of blood quickly rose in the angry red scratches she had gouged in his skin.

The tank’s engine revved again and the hand slid lower and gripped at his privates. Tightly, too tightly! Pain whited out his vision, a squeak slipping past his lips as he grit his teeth from the pressure. A moment later, he squeezed his eyes tight in shame as he felt his penis bared to the open air. “Teper’ vy znayete, chto ya odin v zaryada.” The tank growled, finally releasing her vice grip on his cock. Willi sagged against her hull and whimpered, closing his eyes and wishing it would all stop. The trickle of silvery fluid was almost constant now, drooling rivulets of mercury running down his chin as he kept his mouth closed tightly. The hand gripping his hair jerked his head up towards that oozing seam. He tried to twist, to turn his head away, but it felt like his scalp was being ripped off. Without even a chance to hold his breath, his face was jammed up into the steaming port, the smell of hot iron flooding his nose. A bit of that mercury fluid also found its way up his nostrils and he sputtered, coughing frantically. This only opened his mouth and let more of the tank’s bitter fluid pour in. He spat it out, struggling again as he gagged. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to be smothered!

Da! Yesh’te moyu pizdu, vam fashistskaya kiska!” The tank rumbled in perverse delight, grinding his face deeper against her slit. Willi’s head swam, unable to breathe. He swallowed down a mouthful of her hot fluids, wanting to retch at it flowed down to his stomach. His heart surged against his ribs, electricity raced through his nerves, his limbs tingled down to his tips of his toes. His fists beat uselessly against her hull as her steely hands fell upon his cock again. “Vy vyzvali. Zhalkiye.” She roughly stroked his length – which became shamefully hard despite his distress. His eyes watered as his lungs screamed for air. She – the tank – pulled his head away just for long enough for him to swallow a desperate breath of air before she mashed his mouth back against those oddly soft folds. Too soft for metal, but it was metal. Why was he noticing this? Why did he care? Why did he feel so warm? The IS-2’s engine roared, the vibrations shuddering through his body. She continued to jerk him off without a hint of tenderness, strong metal fingers sliding back and forth over his shaft.

Willi gasped and gagged on the metallic fluid pouring down his throat, his struggles rapidly weakening as his strength started to ebb. His thoughts felt hazy and distant, tears trickled down his cheeks as he slowly, reluctantly, stuck out his tongue into the writhing, oozing metal. It was painfully, terrifyingly clear what the tank wanted, even though he didn’t understand how or why, or even what. He just wanted to survive this… The tank’s engine seized up, her metal hand going still against his cock, but only for a moment before the gears crunched back together and she howled in delight. She pulled his hair even tighter, shoving his face even deeper against her port. He grit his teeth, feeling the flood of warm fluid flowing over his face, dripping down onto the tank’s glacis plate beneath him, and dripping off her hull to the shattered street below. The soft metal mashed and squelched with liquid as his tongue desperately probed her depths. His cock twitched beneath her fingers, slick with silvery lubrication and precum. But the IS-2 was much more worked up than Willi. She jerked forward on her tracks, metal linkage squealing against the drive sprockets. Revving louder, and louder, it would be a surprise if the entire Russian advance didn’t hear her roaring engine and cries of pleasure. “O yebat’ mat’ d’yavola!” She snarled, screwing that one eye tightly shut. “Bystreye, shlyukha!”

Those steel hands, those metal cables tightened so sharply that Willi practically cried out, feeling his bones ache, his flesh and muscles bruising under the sheer tension pinning him to her hull. It felt like an eternity, this steel behemoth screaming and shuddering beneath him. Had she been a human, she would have been thrashing her head back and forth. Willi slurped and lapped his tongue around inside her, feeling it tug on his, almost crushing the soft muscle. Silvery fluid flooded around his lips and tongue, more than he could swallow. He shut his mouth and gagged again on the gunmetal and kerosene taste that coated his tongue and warmed his belly. He was vaguely aware of his own cock throbbing and spurting all over the tank’s hands, but it was a distant, hollow feeling that left him even more drained then he already was.

Just as suddenly, her grip on him disappeared and he practically slid off the tank’s hull and flopped to the ground. Willi curled up on his side and retched, trying to empty his stomach of the contents sloshing around inside. For a moment, he forgot about the tank looming over him, about the scraggly Russian crew standing off to one side, or the infantry scurrying past. He forgot about the artillery and rockets pounding the city to dust and rubble. His entire world was centered around him and what had just happened to– Pain. White-hot, blistering pain instantly made his world shrink to a blood-red pinprick. At some point he became aware that he was screaming, only because he had to take a breath to replace the air gone from his lungs. The IS-2 carved across his back, slowly, deliberately, a metal talon slicing a symbol into his flesh – a mark for the whole world to see. It was too much for him to handle. Consciousness flickered, and then fled completely.

– – –

When Willi finally awoke, the sky above was nearly dark, lit only by the fires and distant flashes of still more artillery. He was laying on the side of the shattered street, discarded like a piece of garbage. Every part of his body was in agony, from his scalp to his toes. Scratches and bruises covered almost every inch of his skin – the tank must used him more than once after he had passed out… His back felt like molten iron had been driven into his flesh, and the shredded skin of his shoulderblades was stiff and sticky with dried blood. Slowly, very slowly, the world started to come back into focus, and it was only then that he noticed that the heavy throb of the IS-2’s engine was long gone. Lifting his head, he saw that the tank was no longer there, just a trail of crushed cobblestones and rubble. The sounds of fighting were well past him now, the Soviets even closer to the Reichstag, the city center, than they had been this morning. Even the ruined T-34 had stopped burning…how long had he been laying there?

He staggered to his feet and looked around in a daze. The tattered shreds of his uniform barely clung to his body, his ankle barely held his weight. How had he avoided being shot out of hand by the Russians that he knew had to have passed him? Why was he not being herded together with all of the other prisoners and being shipped off the the Siberian gulags? He didn’t understand…was it something to do with what the tank had carved into him? Had she…intended for him to be spared of the Soviet’s wrath? He could understand someone not wanting to get on the vehicle’s bad side, but… He shook his head harshly, even desperately. He was alive, that was all that mattered. If this…mark that the IS-2 had given him kept him safe from the Red Army…at least long enough to wait for the war to be over…maybe he could even make his way West towards American lines…

He sagged wearily as exhaustion crashed over him like a wave, almost slumping against a wrecked car. Whether he tried to make it to the Americans, or just waited for the war to end around him…he needed to rest. Time to sort out his thoughts, to try and clean himself as much as possible… He saw a particularly large flash, a fireball rolling up over the shattered rooftops of Berlin and stared at it blankly. He didn’t flinch. He was too tired, too uncaring, to flinch. He wasn’t sure what would come next, but one thing was for sure, his war was over…

– – –

– – –

Hello again, everyone!

It’s been a very long time since I last posted something here, (Holy shit, November 2014.) and for that I apologize profusely. I am not a very fast, nor a very consistent writer (as Ratbat will vehemently attest to after months of wanting to see more of my stuff completed), and I am also a perfectionist, so I tend to take a lot of time picking apart and rewriting my stuff. I also hemmed and hawed about writing, and then finishing this story because I was both uncomfortable with the content and didn’t know how well it would be received. And then after spending so long on it, I started to get burned out on the concept. Add that to various real-life issues, and it was very unlikely that this story would have seen the light of day. So, thanks again to Ratbat for egging me on to complete this. This story’s completion is more of her effort than anything.

So, I feel that I should clear things up first and foremost. I do not condone rape, nor am I trying to trivialize it. The fact that it is a male being forced into a sexual situation does not make it any better. However, the idea originated back when I was writing Operation: LUSTY. Originally, I pictured Petra being much colder and more aggressive towards Kenneth, even to the point of being mean, and she was not going to be gentle during sex at all. And I had the thought that if a living machine – be it a plane, tank, or ship – was determined to have sex with you, it was going to have sex with you, and it wasn’t going to really matter what your opinion on the matter was. There is no way a human could be stronger than the vehicle. And while romantic and passionate sex is all well and good, it’s not the only kind of sex there is. I couldn’t make the concept fit very well with Petra without a severe reworking of the entire story, so I instead decided to take that idea and apply it to a different one set during the climactic end to the War in Europe: The Fall of Berlin.

By Spring of 1945, the Red Army was overwhelming the last, desperate defenses that the Germans had to offer. Hitler was only days away from killing himself, and the Soviets had a long list of grievances that they were going to repay the Germans for, with interest. The weight of Soviet artillery shells dropped on Berlin during between April 20th and May 2nd was greater than the total tonnage dropped by Western Allied bombers on the city during the entire war. The Germans, having long-since scraped the bottom of the manpower barrel, employed the Volkssturm, the Hitlerjugend, and even the police to help reinforce the few gutted SS and Wehrmacht divisions that still remained. During and immediately after the battle, there was widespread instances of vengeful Soviet troops (mostly rear echelon units) raping German women in retaliation for what German soldiers did to Russian women during their invasion of the Soviet Union. And that was what made me think of the IS-2 having her way with Willi, despite his struggles.

Now, some of you might be wondering why Willi is using an Italian bolt-action rifle during the battle for the German capital. That’s because when Italy capitulated to the Allies and switched sides, the Germans pretty much took over what was left and continued to fight the Allies, and in the process secured thousands of Italian-made Carcano rifles. By the time the Fall of Berlin was taking place, the arms industry in Germany was more or less nonexistent. So, they began arming Volkssturm units with the Italian arms they had confiscated.

I apologize if the ending was a little weak. I didn’t really know how to wrap it up, but I didn’t want to hold it up any longer. If I come up with a better ending, I’ll edit in the new one at a later date. I’ve got more ideas line up, and hopefully moving on to a fresh subject will mean faster posting, but I won’t try and make promises this time. Hopefully, you guys are happy with this, and as always, feedback and critiques are welcome.

Thank you, everyone.

CerebralError

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HaM Ch 29

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

Enjoy!

Chapter 29

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

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

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

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

“You feel better, darling?” Cindy nodded.

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

————————–

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

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

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

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

“What else?”

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

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

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

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

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

“My apologies, sir.”

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

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

“How? I don’t get it.”

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

“How do you have it still?”

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

“Why?”

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

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

“You miss me?”

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

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

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

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

Fin Chapter 29