Stories

Hypocritical kink stacker

by

I can’t really talk about this stuff on bluskeii but I’ll just ramble here. I had a conversation a long time ago about why I started to dislike the porn art coming out of the previous fandoms for which I have been a member. (furry, Anime)
“fetish stacking” as I had discussed with others, became officially known as “co-morbidities”. These Co-Morbidities are what ruined my desire as a porn artist to be associated with other porn artists. 
Now, what do you do when porn is your drug, your dopamine hit? Where you’re in this place after many years, and you need stronger and stronger hits, weirder, more novel stuff to get the same neurological responses?
 I think that is what happened to a lot of people. Regular porn stopped being nearly as interesting, and the primary fetish also stoped being as interesting. Folks start stacking 2,3,4,5 sub fetishes on top of their primary ones, till the art looked bat shit insane. That art then, no matter how good it is, cant be used as regular porn for anyone other than the folks who also have these exact checkmarks. 
I understand that, considering how long it takes to do any kind of art well enough, that these people have earned the right to their interpretations. If I bitched directly to them asking to change things, id look like a greedy asshole with 700 pizzas, pissed that I cant have this other guy’s pizza. 
A lot of art just isn’t for us. Its for the artist. Just like my own machine porn was never meant to be porn for anyone other than myself and very rare specific people. The mechaphillia thing also runs on a spectrum:

(Anything less then a 3 or a 4 is non committal)

Im also a filthy fetish stacker though, I am not immune to the same criticisms I gave others. I do deal with a boat load of crazy DM’s tho. Folks trying to connect with me based on perceived like-minded attraction. I tore my hair out trying to figure out why I was attracting certain people to my DMs when the art they consumed had no real sexual similarities to what I was trying to communicate. I actually wish people wouldn’t use “Dire_Machine” as an e621 tag when they have no idea what Dires are. 

why was Hyper Obesity, showing up in my timeline? “Oh shit, is this because one party usually outweighs the other tenfold?” (Right but thats because they are tanks and airplanes. This doesn’t have anything to do with fat people.) 

It hit me to identify all of my sub-kinks that erroneously attract the wrong people, and maybe that would explain the mismatch. 

Mechaphillia/Teratophillia are my Primary. Some 50/5o triple-washed salad mix of monster machines. And this goes back to that chart above about the many shades of machine attraction and their different focuses. “Focus and subtext are king” here. Some folks said it was “scary” just how detailed the machine pictures were. That it was at the very least, a High-effort troll job. I only give these machines the exact same effort the common man gives when rendering a pair of tits. It’s detailed as fuck- because we love everything about them. The art celebrates them, and you can see this emphasis based on the amount of time spent in certain places (or lack of time spent). 

Sub-kink: Hurt/Comfort. This is a kink you mostly only find in fan fiction, and that’s because its harder to depict without huge context. Its the idea you can use sex to heal physical or mental wounds. Some will argue that its not about the sex at all, but in the context of corrupting alien machines, its literally about healing gun shot wounds with nookie. The healing comes from nanomachines. One of the perks of banging a fighter jet that talks. 

Sub-kink: Size difference. Not to be confused with macro fetishization, It tickles me when one party member is much bigger than the other. A “Gentle-giant” be it boy or girl, is much appreciated. I wanna be bear hugged. I wanna be overtaken like a fat mother hen engulfing her chicks to keep them warm.  

Sub-kink: Interspecies. This one is a must. One party needs to be a human. The other party needs to be not human. Alien x man, Dragon x woman, Greater eldritch monster x human, is infinitely better then two people banging. Or two machines banging. All I gotta do is check the Harkness test for legal combos. 

Sub-Kink: Physical/Neurological Corruption. This one is a story only kinda kink. Because physical corruption is pretty serious, and for some people it’s actually terrifying. There probably is some kind of conceptual body horror focus behind this, because it existed in my Edenworld comic too. At least my reasoning for the Grey limbs, the G. Neuron stuff is that, if you are willing to let this happen to you, it’s a kind of serious dedication to the monster. It’s allowing the vampire to bite you, the Lycanthropy to take hold of you.

This is a much lighter version of TF (transformation) kink where people completely transform into other things. I don’t want people transforming completely into other things, because it’s important that one person stays human no matter what to stay grounded in reality. 

all this bullshit Aside, id be a hypocrite for ripping on people’s kinks when mine are just as weird. I just don’t wanna see other peoples kinks on my SFW blog. 

What strange nasty kinks do you guys have if you found this art? Let me know in comments if you have thoughts adjacent, or if you just like the emotional aspect of it. 

PS. RIP Akira Toriyama, DBZ and Chrono Trigger were big parts of my childhood and you will be missed. 

 

 

The message has been unclear.

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Been a while since my last journal post here. Its unacceptable how bad twitter has become under musk, You cant even read or post anymore without a mountain of AI adds, cheap plastic garbage, and regressive politics in your face. I hopped on over to bluesky, But ill be pulling 2001 Livejournal numbers over there for the time being. Perhaps its here where I was always supposed to be posting. (no more 120 characters max bullshit)

I’ve been absorbed with Baldur’s gate 3 since the 3rd of this month, and The break has been really good for regenerating will to get back into art.

What kind of art? Probably the comic still. It’s the only method I have of really conveying my intent at this point. And with the exception of one artist (Nissdixon), and a tiny handful of Terrato folks I have in my chat, I never quite found the audience I was hoping to get.  My Friends trawl the internet in search of like-minded folks, but then they spot someone who made a plane with eyes in the style of Dire machines, and they show it to me.  What I see almost without fail, is my concepts put to the sword for someone else’s barely hidden Vore(erotic cannibalism), Whale/Dolphin Bestiality, or Obesity fetish. The most highly offensive shit.. is my legacy to others currently, And this feeling I get is called “The death of the author”.  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Death_of_the_Author

I don’t see a fix for this issue other then to quit drawing porn completely as it has been monkey brain neuron activation for some of the most socially fucked up people I have ever consistently met. All I wanna do is make myself less interesting to autistic porn addicts, and AI scrappers.  That Maybe if I just don’t show anyone the porn anymore, but quietly hide it here on this site, then more of the kinds of people im looking for would care about the trans humanistic stories I’m writing (wishful thinking?). Perhapse if people just don’t even see porn at all, they wont be inspired to fuck around and be gross. If they don’t see the porn, the message will finally be clear.

To my discord associates: Obese cartoon women with strange heads, and big fat titties IS NOT AIRCRAFT OR TANK. Not even close. Most of you treat “robot” as a minor texture anyway. Bitches who take a black marker, and draw seems on their knees, and elbows phoning it in -I don’t accept your premise. Go somewhere else.

9/1 we return to the Atoll lab comic post haste. I look forward to it.

 

 

The New Generation Chapter 9

by

Hello all!

Yes, I am still around. Life’s been fucky. I’m sure everyone can agree, but I’ve not given up on story writing, but I have had a lot of writer’s block and a lack of drive to sit down and put something on the computer. I still have tons of story ideas, but where I want to go with this story is going to need a lot of filler and development for a valuable impact on the stories I really want to tell. So to get things going I’ll be going back to how I wrote the first bunch of installments of HaM. The chapters are going to be shorter, but hopefully more consistent and paced better. I felt like the pacing had been too slow, and was going to take me forever, so I’ll try doing shorter chapters focusing on key points to the plots for the characters. With that said, here’s chapter 9.

Enjoy.

TNG Chapter 9

 

Veronica watched and noted carefully what she saw as her white blood cells devastated Adler’s blood. The process was much slower, almost lazy, as the two of them found that running the tests while the samples were chilled slowed the organisms down. In every year she’s run, Adler always beats the red cells, and always loses to the white cells. She can say with confidence that biologically Adler is weaker than her. What drives her curiosity now is that she has never seen Adler sick, he says he’s been sick twice in his life, but she’s been sick plenty around him and he never caught anything she had. Once her test was completed she reviewed her notes and and turned to Adler, who was behind her as usual.

“No changes, Addy,” she announced, “how’s your test?” Adler had a test between infected blood and his blood. They were trying to figure out why he was so resilient to illness.

“I’m winning, no shocker, but when i sampled blood it doesn’t test for the illness.” She was puzzled.

“So, maybe you eat it?” He was also puzzled.

“But where would it go? I should still test positive.” Veronica scratched her head.

“Maybe the virus falls off?”

“That’s not how viruses work, babe.” Adler scoffed.

“I’ll wait for the process to finish and then I’ll test all the blood, together.” She nodded, still affixed on her bizarre idea. As soon as he collected all the blood from the tray she smeared test paper on the tray. He rolled his eyes, and groaned when the blood tested negative. Veronica took her test paper and examined it, minute color changes were present to indicate the presence of a virus. She shivered in glee. Adler was visibly frustrated.

“This doesn’t make any sense. This is bullshit.”

“Well, maybe the virus just can’t cling to your makeup? Like, we know that it’s biologically different, and has different properties than normal organics, maybe the virus literally doesn’t have the ability to infect it.”

“That doesn’t make sense, your body defenses lose to the virus, but beat my composition. Why isn’t the virus doing the same?” She pondered for a minute, looking at a magnet on his glacis plate. An idea cane to her. She grabbed the magnet and tossed it onto his chest, where it stuck. She did this repeatedly, then she slapped it on her thigh, where it slid off. She looked at Adler with her eyebrows raised. 

“I don’t think it’s too far fetched to think of something like this happening.” Adler was still visibly angry. “Here, babe. Viruses are very, very good at what they do, be a pathogen and infect organisms. They aren’t very good at much else, they have evolved for a millennia to do this one thing flawlessly… and remember when you told me that element one one four had to literally be dug out of the ground? Well, the virus evolved without you, so now that the virus has come to find you, now it has no way of interacting and infecting you. In fact, some trait about your biology actually repels viruses from your body, you can’t even carry it like other organisms.” His anger began fading.

“So, like, like how some animals from the Galapagos islands can no longer breed with similar species?”

“Yes! Isolated evolution drove them apart!” They smiled and giggled together. Adler’s hands snaked across her body and tenderly glided over her long legs, her hands similarly glided over his armored glacis and just under his turret chin. He brought her close to him and held her like a baby against him, they nuzzled together like a puppy to it’s mother. “I love your body, baby.”

“And I love yours. There’s so much to learn from each other.”

“Even when we built every part of you, there’s still so much mystery and knowledge to learn.”

“I think it’s beautiful, centuries of study and we still don’t know everything.”

“And perhaps we never will.”

“The world is beautiful, just like you.” She smiled wide and twirled her index finger under his chin. Her eyes examined carefully how his chin molded and deformed the rigid cast turret face to bend like her skin, it was such an incredible sight for her. She knows how it happens, more concentration of 114 in that part of his body, but it’s still amazing. Adler combed over her body, feeling her glistening skin with his hands, her gentle heartbeat and blood pulsing through her veins, her rhythmic breathing, how exciting it was to him. He loved everything about her, from her dependence on coffee to her bad puns, from her crazy morning hair to her bad knees, and everything in between. “I’m so happy that we get along better than my parents.” She chuckled.

“Zinc and steel get along better than your parents. How did they even get together in the first place? I mean, Germany and Russia hated each other. ” Adler looked away and nodded slowly. He didn’t like bringing up that part of his past. He didn’t like talking about his parents much, either, especially their relationship.

“Just know that I love you for you, for how beautiful you are. You amaze me every day.” He took her hand and kissed it.

“I love you, too, you big metal softie! C’mere.” He picked her up and held her tight, she wrapped her arms around his turret neck as best she could. In this moment he thought back to being a kid, just wanting his parents to love each other like they loved him.

 

1956

 

Adler sulked into his room to hide from his parents and their ferocious fighting. All he wanted to do was spend the weekend at Geoff’s house but his parents disagreed on the decision. Just like every time they disagree they start fighting, which turns into undermining accusations and insults towards one another. He went over to his toy figures of superheroes and began playing with them, tears silently rolling down his turret cheeks. His little stories and scenarios his action figure storylines would play out were always filled with happy and loving parents, or stories where the parents come together after a life threatening situation. His favorite superhero character was an alien adopted by loving parents who treated him like he was their own son. Individually his parents loved him, whenever dad isn’t around mom likes to hold him, kiss him on his cupola, was kind and quiet around. When mom wasn’t around dad was hearty and caring, stern, of course, he held Adler to high standards of manners, but treated him very nicely and would teach him some cool tricks or talents, or told him a lot of jokes. The problem was when they were together, the atmosphere was always tense, mom was always angry and short tempered, dad was always on edge and anxious. Adler hated it. He envied the other kids and their parents.

The two of them loved Adler very much but they had very different opinions on how he should be raised, Devastator was a bit more free-willed with Adler, while Vitaliya was more controlling, a helicopter parent as it would later be called. Dev was confident in Adler’s own abilities to act on his own, make his own decisions. He saw Adler as a smart kid- saying that he gave Adler some brains from the gene pool- while Vitaliya swears that he’s going to get himself terribly hurt and make the wrong decisions. This is usually the gist of their points of view, Vitaliya says he’s not ready for something while Dev says he should try it.

Adler had never been fully told by his parents that their first encounter was less than ideal, he’d heard enough nods and references in their arguments to figure out that they had fought in combat and his father won the fight and then did bad things to his mother, which is how he ended up in the world. Adler swears that if they didn’t produce him like that, then his parents would probably be able to see ends meet and not let their differing opinions tear the family apart, but that’s the world Adler dreams of, not the world he lives in. So here he is now, playing with his action figures, silently weeping.

The shouting abruptly ended and a knock rang through Adler’s room from the sliding door. Before Adler could say anything it began to open, it was his father. He entered the room and closed the sliding door behind him, releasing a deep and drawn out sigh as he did so. He looked at Adler, he saw the tears in his eyes and the devoid look of sadness in his eyes. Even with an inflexible body Devastator could sense the body language was of anxiety, stress, and desperation. Slowly he inched over to Adler’s side, there’s not much room for them side by side and in a year or two Devastator doesn’t expect to fit into the room like this anymore. They’re snug against each other, with Dev’s gun hovering over his son, he sees the toys in Adler’s hands, he rests a hand on Adler’s engine deck and sighs again, quietly.

“Whatcha got there, son?” Adler swallows to clear his throat.

“My action figures.” There’s still a lump in his throat and he sounds pathetic. It pains Dev to see Adler like this.

“Well son, your mother won’t let you stay at Geoff’s house this weekend, I think we could ask his parents if he could stay over at our house instead, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, I guess.” Adler was still choked up and sniffling.

“Does Geoff have action figures, too?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. He has toy trains instead.” Dev chuckled.

“Trains? Like, like choo-choo trains?”

“Yeah.” Dev laughed to himself.

“Well I think he should come here, and I think you should show him how cool your action figures are, then he’ll play with action figures instead.” Adler smiled a little, so did Dev. “So, what are your action figures doing, son? Are they, are they fighting?”

“Not right now, no.” Adler explained his characters and their stories, it really pulled at Dev’s heartpistons, he patted Adler on the deck, running his fingers through some of the filter grates as his son explained it all. Dev, too, wished he was living in those storylines. When Adler finished Dev got really serious with him for a life lesson.

“Son, Adler, now, there are many good things in the world, and many bad things, too. People do many good things, and many bad things, too. You must be careful, though, you must think about your actions because people don’t remember you for good things, if the bad thing you did was really bad. People will remember you for the bad thing you did.  For me, well, I, my peers, the tanks my age, they don’t see me, most of them at least, they don’t see me as a good guy, they see me as a bad guy, and I’m very ashamed of it. I’m very ashamed. You, you’re young, young and full of good,” he gestured towards the action figures, “good things await you in life, but you have to be a good person. See, I’ve done a lot of great things in my day, I’ve also done some terrible things, but all it takes is one thing, one really bad thing, and that’s what everyone knows you for, forever. You can build a, a million bridges! You can build a million bridges but if you burn one, just one bridge, you’re called a bridge burner.”

Adler sat still, processing what his father said to him. He sniffled again and wiped his faceplate. He muttered a thank you to his father, who sat quietly next to him, adoring his son. Dev tells Adler to ask Geoff at school the next day to see if he could stay the weekend at Adler’s house, Adler agreed. Dev milked every moment he could with his son, refusing to leave his side unless absolutely necessary, Adler was the only joy he had in his life. Eventually he felt his welcome had worn, and Adler should get some sleep for school tomorrow, so he wished him a goodnight, told Adler he loved him, and pried himself away from him so he could move about his own room. Once he left the room Vitaliya swept in to give Adler her goodnight kisses and wishes. Dev made himself cozy in the main space, while Vitaliya strolled by and entered the master “bedroom,” she sat at the door for a moment looking at Dev, figured he wasn’t coming into the room, and shut the door behind her.

The next day Adler asked Geoff if he could stay at Adler’s instead, and the next day Geoff said his parents said no. Adler was devastated. He was greatly upset when he came home, and in his emotional fury he blamed it on his mom and dad fighting all the time. He blamed his loneliness on them fighting all the time and that nobody wanted to be around them because they fought so much. Vitaliya was awestruck, never had Adler said something so hurtful to her. Dev agreed with Adler, he told Adler to play outside for a bit. Adler agreed and stormed away. Dev shut the door behind him and confronted Vitaliya, instantly declaring that Adler is right. On this rare occasion she agreed.

Dev sensed some vulnerability here so he used it to his advantage, he pretty much turned her arm into the small of her back and forced her to come to grips with Adler’s growing maturity. He argued that she always had others around her, and that he, himself, did as well. They “grew up” around others, but her desire to control him was stripping him of friends. In her emotional instability she began blaming herself, and Dev rode that wave until she agreed Adler should stay with Geoff for the weekend. Dev was now awestruck, he just got Vitaliya to agree with him, no yelling, no shouting, no threats or insults, just a conversation. Admittedly a one sided conversation, but still a conversation. He inched closer to her, and in good faith he outstretched his arms for an embrace, and she did the same. Suddenly they found themselves holding each other closely, she wept into his side where he brought her, and he squeezed her tightly against himself. It brought him to tears, too. They savored this moment, this rare moment together. They whispered sweet nothings to each other, and made their own plans for the weekend. They decided to try something new, something fresh, something to hopefully bring them closer together forever.

Adler came back in after a while, his tears had dried and he had accepted his fate when his mother told him he could stay with Geoff for the weekend. Adler instantly exploded with energy, leaping off the ground in excitement. Dev scolded him, telling him he’s going to shatter the floor like that, but Adler was too excited to care. Vitaliya told him his room had better be clean before he can go or it will never happen again, with uncontrollable energy he flew into his room and began the chore. Vitaliya smiled, Dev also smiled, seeing the joy in Adler’s eyes sparked a feeling they had never had before, they glanced at each other and locked each other’s eyes. “It was that easy.” Dev said to her.

“I guess so.”

Present Day

Adler held Veronica tightly, she had fallen asleep on his glacis plate while watching a movie. Most of his childhood memories were painful, but some of them are good. He’s grateful that they did get better over the decades, Veronica wouldn’t believe how bad they used to be, but they would never mesh like Alder wanted, like Adler felt with Veronica. Maybe one day his parents will finally put the past away and learn to love each other for real, no façade, no forced love, genuine happiness. It will probably never come, but Adler dreams for that day. Sometimes he thinks back to when his mother said they were trying for another kid and wonders if that ever could fix their relationship. He was doubtful, and so far the attempts have been fruitless, but he hoped that one day it would happen. Then his fantasies he dreamt up wouldn’t be fantasies anymore, and his superhero world would be realized. He quietly teared up at the thought and held Veronica tighter.

 

Fin TNG Chapter 9

Distressed VIII

by

Hello! It’s been quite a while… again, and I don’t have too much to show for it. I wish I had more, but a mix of writers block, poor motivation, and life’s gotten in the way of things. I hope I can start producing content more faithfully, but sadly I can’t promise anything. Excuses aside, here’s the next installment of Johnny and Tankovy’s story!

Enjoy!

 

 

Distressed VIII

 

Johnny had trouble getting up the next morning, his body was demanding more rest but he pushed through the aching and griping body. He had to go talk to Tankovy about his plan, and he had to build a good reputation for her with anyone he could. The first thing he did after leaving his tent was go see doc, as he was instructed. There he was given paperwork that exempted him from duties and physical training while he was recovering from his ailments. The doctor mentioned that his leg isn’t properly healed, but is healed enough to where it has to be broken again and reset, something that cannot be performed here. Then doc mentioned scarring around the legs and on his arm that looked like shrapnel damage. Johnny never noticed, it never really bothered him, he couldn’t really see it in her dark cabin and when he was outside he had no reason to look for it. Doc said the X-rays didn’t find any shrapnel, and since Johnny had no idea about it, Tankovy must have also removed all his shrapnel. The principle doctor was supposed to interview her to learn what she did to treat Johnny, and how she did it, and now he’s going to inquire about all the damages she found on Johnny. He asked the doctor if it all would be going on record, which it was, and asked how it would affect the command’s views on the Tank. The doctor asked why he was so interested in the tank, his kidnapper.

“Well, in the end I guess you could say the goal was worth it. We blew up a whole terrorist compound, she kinda got her freedom, and I saw more action than almost anyone here, technically. So I’d say it’s a win all around, a fucked up win, but a win.”

“Maybe, but do the ends justify the means? Reeves, that tank blew you up first, kidnapped you and held you hostage for damn near a year, then it forced you to comply in it’s schemes, whatever that may have been. Reeves, that’s fucked.”

“Maybe, but the tank’s been through a lot, too, and is Russian, besides, being blown up is just a fact of life in Russia-“ he put on his best Russian accent for his justification, it got the doctor to grin a little bit, “but really, she’s been through some shit, betrayal, abandoned, stolen, lied to, assaulted, exiled, she’s pretty rough around the edges. Things just don’t work up here” he pointed at his head, “for her the way it does for you and me.”

“So are you saying she’s crazy?” Johnny shook his head.

“Nah, I’d say, desperate. I’d say she’s distressed. Not thinking right. To pass time she’d tell me stories from her life, and it’s been a long thirty years for her. Y’know?” The doctor nodded slowly, pondering it.

“When you put it that way, thirty years in the service, with how crazy the Russians are, I guess any line of irrational thinking is expected. So other than the shrapnel and the mind fuck, any other concerns you want to talk about?”

“Yeah I would keep breaking out in rashes but they’d go away after a few weeks, but come back a few weeks later. They’re all gone now.”

“That’s probably from not bathing. How would you clean yourself?”

“Poorly.” He simply put. “Like a wet rag every week. Very unpleasant.”

“Clean water, I hope?”

“I don’t know. She said it didn’t come from the drinking water, that’s all she told me.” The doctor wrote down the fact and dismissed Reeves. He went straight over to Tankovy. He asked the Abrams guarding her if he could talk to Tankovy, the Abrams stared him down and warned him of no funny business.

There was two tankers going over Tankovy, poking at random bits and scrubbing corossion away, cleaning and preparing it nicely. What Johnny assumed was the new guy complained about having to essentially clean the prisoner’s feet, and what was assumed to be his senior supervisor reminded him to stop bitching and work. Johnny ignored them and asked Tankovy how she was doing. She was fine, enjoyed talking to the guards if they entertained it. Many good stories were shared. Johnny let her know about the doctor’s interview later and to think of good things to say. In a semi defeated tone she said she has nothing to hide. Johnny grew worried, she was not this deferated yesterday. He asked her what’s wrong, what broke her spirit? She asnwered him in a low tone, almost under her breath.

“Last night I asked if I could become American, and the Abrams did not think so, nor did anyone else I asked.”

“Why?” Johnny demanded.

“I think the Abrams said it best, he said that I’m still a property in America, and property has to be owned, property has to be bought.”

“What? What are you getting at?”

“Sure, I may be Russian, and old, and plentiful, but I’m still valuable, I have quite a big price tag on me. I asked what kind, he said a millionaire’s price. From there I figured out that while you’re paid better than my soldiers, you aren’t paid like millionaires.”

“So what? How does that affect you then?”

“So what? Johnny you can’t buy me out. I’m stuck with whatever the Army wants with me. If they don’t outright scrap me they’ll just use me as target practice, test new guns, new bombs, then dispose of me like trash.” Johnny’s heart turned black. “I should have just ditched you by the town and run.” Johnny had never felt guilty like this before, he, too, was crushed.

 

Six-Shooter patiently waited for the Major outside his office, the morning brief was just about to end and he had quite a lot to tell him about their new friend. The command staff dispersed to brief the companies and from there the platoons, and if by some miraculous virtue they’re still paying attention, the squads, for the next patrol. The major smiled at the Abrams and greeted him before getting down to business. Six began his debrief with the Major, going over everything he learned about Tankovy, her history, her motives, her views on current events, overall who she revealed to Six. The Major was stoic, unmoved by anything. His steel-trap memory recorded all the details of the interview and began forming an image of who he thought Tankovy was. Six concluded that Tankovy is scared, depressed, and poorly motivated anymore. With all her ordnance removed from her possession she is no serious risk to the base or the soldiers.

“So, she did all that to go home?” The major asked, just to clarify.

“Yes, sir. That was her original intention. However, Private Reeves told her she could become an American, swayed her to not go back to Russia. She liked that a lot, and even asked if that was a possibility.” The major shrugged.

“The articles forbid keeping war trophies anymore but nothing I’ve ever seen talks about talking tanks you dig up in the desert. I think it’s above me on that.”

“Sir if you mind, what are we looking to gain with a court marshall?”

“We’re just trying to get all the facts, from there we’ll see what happens. We know anything about Reeves? How’s he taking to this?”

“He doesn’t like the court marshall. He’s very defensive of the tank.” The major scoffed.

“Right now I’m going to chock that one up to Stockholm Syndrome. We’ll get to the bottom of it.” Six was still hooked on the idea that Johnny Reeves and Tankovy fucked, and he assumes it to have been a lot seeing how dedicated Johnny is to her, but he didn’t dare mention it to the major. “So,” the major began with a grin, “what do you think of her? Tickle your fancy?” Six laughed.

“Oh no, sir, she’s not my type.”

“Oh sure, you spend as long a time in this wasteland as you have I’d bet damn near anything with a pulse will get you going. You sure you aren’t gay?”

“Hey now, don’t get me confused with Rummi, he’s the gay one, not me.”

“Yeah, I know. I was just heckling you’s all.”

“If you’re curious, sir, I’m into those civilian sedans, the smaller the better. Get me a nice Miata and have lots of fun with her, just pick her up and do all sorts of fun things, my god, that’s wonderful!.” 

“Alright I didn’t need to think about that, bit too much for me.” Six was dismissed and he went back to his little corner to get inspected and worked on, but he had to wait for the new guy to finish up with Tankovy before he could be worked on. He took a nap to pass time and dreampt about being serviced by three very dedicated and thurough Miata chicks.

 

Rummi dutifully stood post over Tankovy. He wasn’t as talkative as Six, but also wasn’t tasked with digging into who she was. He watched Johnny and her talk for at least and hour, all while that poor dumb sonuvabitch Morales worked on Tankovy, cleaning her up all nice and pretty. Jervis, his supervisor, called for Morales to wrap up what he was doing and head over to Six’s bay, they had shit to do on him and he was more important than Tankovy. Before he left, Tankovy called to Morales and thanked him with genuine gratitude. Morales, being the new guy and thus the crew’s bitch, was genuinely surprised and responded in kind, before trotting off grumbling about how only the prisoner’s thank him for anything. Jervis heckled him for being a bitch and the day went on as usual. Shortly after Johnny also walked away to handle his business. Then it was just silence. Tankovy, Rummi, and about five other partly conscious soldiers sweating their balls off in full kit wishing they were doing literally anything else.

“You don’t talk much.” Tankovy said to break the silence.

“Nope.” Rummi said bluntly. Tankovy sighed and thought of literally anything to say. She could talk to one of the soldiers but she found that the guy in front of her had mastered the art of sleeping standing up.

“What do you do for fun out here?”

“I play cards. And masturbate. That’s it.” Flattering. She thought.

“What’s your favorite game?” She asked to keep something going.

“Rummi.” He said.

“He loves it so much that’s also his name.” One of the more awake soldiers said.

“I’ve never heard of it. How do you play?”

“I don’t have cards. I can’t show you.” Rummi blurted.

“Hey man, you don’t gotta be such a dick, dude.” The soldier said again.

“What’s your name?” Tankovy asked him.

“I’m Xavier Brown, from Los Angeles, California. Who are you?”

“They just called me Tankovy, or Tank. I never really got a name. I’m from factory 183, in the Ural mountains, special projects division. If you ever meet another living T-72, we come from that plant.” Rummi couldn’t help but feel like a prick after that moment.

“Yeah, I’m from Kansas, there’s a factory out there that just churns out live tanks. They named me Oscar, if I remember correctly, but in the army there’s a tradition we got where the first crew names you, like for the deadmetal tanks, and they named me Rummi. They never knew my birth given name, I never told anyone.” Tankovy was shocked, the concept of being gifted a name at birth was something she didn’t think happened to anyone except people, and cats, and dogs. Xavier was also bemused.

“Oscar? What about you says you look like an Oscar?”

“Nothing, that’s just what they called me.”

“I’m sticking to Rummi.” Xavier said, another soldier who was mildly paying attention nodded, then grinned.

“Oscar the grouch. That’s where they got Oscar from!” Xavier laughed.

“Oscar the grouch! Even lives in a big can!” Rummi was tilted by that, he growled at Xavier, who didn’t stop laughing.

“Why did you not take your name?” Tankovy asked.

“Tradition. The deadmetals aren’t named until they get here, why should I be different?”

“Well, because you are different. You’re not dead, you live!” Tankovy exclaimed.

“Look, you have your traditions, I have mine.”

“Yeah he takes being an asshole as some sort of religious rite of passage. Fuckin dickhead.” The unnamed soldier said.

“Aren’t you the guy that owes me twenty bucks?” Rummi asked him sternly.

“I don’t owe you shit, Oscar.” Rummi began arguing with the soldier, Tankovy watched on with glee, excited that something was happening! Entertainment! At last! Soon she would be officially interrogated by some of the investigation team members, Johnny warned her, but for now, she was soaking up the show.

 

Fin Distressed VIII

Distressed VII

by

Hey y’all! I have finally completed another distressed chapter! Hooray! I know I’m somewhat neglecting The New Generation, I know, but the storyline I have for it doesn’t seem like a good thing to pursue right now with what the world’s doing, everything being kind of sensitive at the moment. I will write it eventually, but for now I have a less touchy subject, and I’m happy to write and share that! So here you are, Distressed VII!

 

Enjoy.

 

Distressed VII

 

Both of them were terrified. Almost instantly they were separated from each other. Johnathan was restrained and a bag put over his head while they took him into a small office room on base and Tankovy was forced into the courtyard area on base. There was a much larger security force on Tankovy for pretty obvious reasons, all her infantry guards had anti-tank weaponry, and an Abrams was on watch around the clock. Explosive ordnance disposal teams supervised her careful removal of all her ordnance. She only had six anti-armor type rounds and eleven high explosive rounds, strangely, she only had fourteen propellant charges. Well, strangely to them. It was the three other propellant bags she cannibalized for the bombs they used to escape. She had a staggering eight full belts of HMG ammo plus what was left over in the bin, and she had seven belts of ammunition for her coaxial machine gun, that turned out to have a broken recoil spring and thus was useless. She was stripped of her roof machine gun against her pleas and bargaining to just hand over the bolt and firing pin, her vast collection of parts and electronics were confiscated, her stowage bins were emptied out and her main gun was chained down to her bow.

She was especially petrified, she didn’t have Johnny with her to comfort her or speak on her behalf, she was locked up and in chains by the Americans, she has been told nothing of her fate, they’ve asked her nothing, they took everything from her and they won’t tell her what’s going to happen to Johnny. She started to cry. It seemed she was being abandoned, she’s not going to see Johnny again, there’s not going to be a pleasant trip to America, no citizenship, no family.

No home.

Johnny wasn’t as terrified as Tankovy, in fact, he wasn’t scared about his well being, but he was scared to death for Tankovy. He demanded that they get on and identify him already, he was repeatedly telling the other soldiers everything about him, who he is, his rank, what squad he was in, his social number, military ID number, his parents name, his home address, even his favorite meal to eat at his favorite restaurant, he just wanted them to let him go. It had been a long time since he had been back, long enough to where most of his friends rotated home. Some guys did know him and they barged in to see him, he recognized them and they would embrace and vouch for him. Eventually a Major showed up with a Captain and two Master Sergeants. They had a voice recorder, and a camera, why both is still unknown, and pads of paper and pens for recording. There were three gaurds, one being an MP, and a jug of water and a plate of crackers, that Johnny was nonstop munching on as food and a nervous tick. The entourage of men sat at the table across from Johnny. Then a Master Sergeant spoke, opening a folder and clicking a pen. The captain started the voice recorder.

“Private Reeves,” he began, putting his glasses on, Johnny nodded, “It says here you were received by your unit in August of two-thousand and twelve, and you were reported missing in action in June of thirteen. Is that correct?”

“Yes, Master Sergeant, it was June tenth.”

“Indeed,” he says before continuing, “the report from your squad accounts you as the only loss, aside from a humvee and a flat bed. Did you know that?”

“No Master Sergeant, I was instantly knocked out by a blast.”

“Yes, in the report it says a T-72 tank with eyes shot your convoy. Do you remember that detail?” Johnny pondered.

“Uh, no, Master Sergeant, it happened too fast.” He gulped. “But, there was a tank. Yes.” The officers looked at each other. The silent Master Sergeant nodded.

“Thank you Private, you said you were knocked out instantly?” Johnny nodded. “Alright, so can you recount for us the events that transpired ever since then?”

“Certainly, Master Sergeant…”

Johnny recounted his story, he was very calculating in his retelling of the tale, he left out the physical abuse that Tankovy would hit him in the beginning, he would emphasize how she treated his wounds, sheltered him from the terrorists, procured him food, water, attended to his waste for him and would perform physical therapy to keep his body as fit as she could. Then he went into detail on her escape plan and her motivations for capturing him at all, he emphasized that at no point did she place him in excessive danger or in way of certain death, that he himself took extra risks to sabotage insurgent materials, and that when the plan was executed she escorted him out of the hot zone and ferried him to the base. He mentioned that he was fed at least twice every day, which was all that she could procure, and that en route to base she exercised him to rebuild his physical strength. He left out absolutely every detail or hint at their romance and sexual activity. At various points the investigation team would stop him and ask many questions, be they strategic ones on enemy strength and resource procurement, tactics of evasion and camouflage for the assets, how he was feeling or even if wanted some coffee or a hot plate. At the end of the interrogation the staff welcomed him back and shook his hand, congratulating him on getting home safely, also for destroying a terrorist stronghold.

“Very good, son, very good. Now, let’s get you to the latrine so you can clean up. We could smell your stank ass from three clicks out! You look like one of them motherfuckers, too! We saw you ride up and we were like ‘ah these poor bastards have some big fuckin balls!” He laughed and stood up.

“Is there anything else, Private?” The Major asked as he stood up.

“Yes, sir,” Johnny started, “that tank I came here with, what’s going to happen to her?” The Major scowelled and looked to the captain.

“Captain?” The captain nodded.

“Private, we have reason to believe, and now evidence to support, that this tank was the one that fired on our convoy and abducted you. So we are building a case against the tank to hold a court marshall against it.”

“What?” Johnny asked.

“We’re taking it to trial.”

“But sir, I- I just told you everything we did.”

“And proved that it abducted you. You’ll be held as a witness to prosecute the tank. Don’t worry son, we’ll get it right.” Johnny was in complete disbelief. The staff departed, taking their things with them and leaving Johnny sitting there feeling terrible. His gut churned and he felt like he was going to vomit. One if the gaurds grabbed him and hauled him to his feet.

“Come on, Reeves, let’s go hose you down.”

Johnny was escorted out of the building and around to the latrines, a shack with shower stalls in it. He was helped to get naked and given soaps to wash. He enthusiastically washed himself, months of filth came off of him, the water was black with gunk. While he took his shower some fellow privates cobbled together an extra uniform for him. All his stuff had been sent home months ago. The boots were too big, and he didn’t quite fit the uniform since he was so frail now, but he could grow into it. Then he was sat down outside his old tent and everyone gathered around and recorded him getting all his hair cut off. Huge locks of hair fell in massive clumps to the sand. His magnificent, scraggly beard was cut away until it was short enough for a razor, his long head of hair chopped and dropped down to an even buzz cut, he brushed his teeth for the first time in months and realized he probably should get a medical check up, which is why he washed so enthusiastically, to wash off any signs of the two of them fucking. He was given food, which he consumed like a dog, then taken to the medical tent for a check up.

The medical team x-rayed his legs and performed a full body health checkup. He was underweight but fit, his teeth were terribly dirty but only one cavity had started forming, thanks to the Arabic diet being low sugar, and his legs were actually not completely healed. One leg was going to have to be broken again and realigned correctly. They admitted that while crude, Tankovy did a remarkably good job of nursing him. When Johnny heard that he begged the medical staff to put it on record wherever they can. He asked for a copy of the report for himself, if possible. Once this was over, about six hours after he was separated from Tankovy, he went after her. He found her locked down in the courtyard, and absolute miserable wreck. Her eyes were dim and dead, she was quietly sobbing, and she was radiating the feeling of depression. He started running towards her, ignoring the gaurds with the rocket launchers because he knew they didn’t care, and ran right up to her. He called out to her as he got close and she perked up, she grabbed him and hauled him right up to her side, smacked him good across the face, then held his head close to her. She cried harder.

“Johnny, I’m scared.” He tried to comfort her as much as possible, he told her that the two of them will never be too far apart, that the army isn’t going to kill her, and that the army still has a bed for the two of them. “How? Why? What are they doing? What’s going to happen to us?” Johnny looked her in the eyes and tried to tell her about the court case coming up, he had a huge lump in his throat. Its absolutely not what she needs to hear right now but she has a right to know. “Tell me! Please Johnny!”

“Tankovy…” he croaked “they want to court martial you…” she was horrified.

“What!?”

“They want to put you on trial for stealing me.” She was crying more. A main battle tank was crying in the arms of a foreign soldier. How low she felt she had fallen. “And that’s not the worst of it. They want me to stand against you.” She started bawling. She started smacking him more.

“You said we’d be okay! You said you’d stay with me! You liar! You said they wouldn’t lock me up! You said that they would help me! Fuck you! After everything we did!?”

She continued yelling at him, the soldiers around were very unsure of what to do. None of them had been to couples therapy-yet, and just stood there letting it happen, staring at each other. Tankovy wasn’t beating Johnny down yet, she easily could, but she still loved him, she hit him more so to emphasize her anger. Johnny was trying to calm her down saying how he’s putting her in a good light and that he’s going to do everything he can to save her. Tankovy was so upset she slurred her words and scolded him in Russian. Johnny didn’t even notice the two Abrams tanks behind him pointing their guns at Tankovy’s flank. The two Abrams sat there awkwardly as Tankovy and Johnny argued, they were rotating on and off the watch at that moment. The one oncoming turned to the other and asked “Are they a thing or something?”

“I-I think so,” the off-going Abrams said, “so from what I could tell he hooked up with his captor and now she’s angry that he abandoned her?”

“Bro she went out and kidnapped a husband.” He chuckled, putting on a Russian accent, “In Soviet Russia, mail bride order you!” That got the two of them to laugh. They sat there awkwardly again just watching the drama. It was the most entertaining thing to do on the whole fucking base. Sit there and watch a relationship crash. “I think she loves him.” Oncoming watch said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, he’s not dead.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s still holding him! If she didn’t love him and she was this upset he probably would have been popped like a bag of chips or hit so hard his head spins off like a top.”

“I can see that.” He smirked and looked to the other tank. “You think they fucked?” The other guy whistled and rocked forward and back.

“I dunno, bro. He could be into that, or she’s into it and trying to make it happen.”

“I bet you they fucked.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yup.”

“Whatcha bet?”

“I bet a whole case of monster.”

“I’ll shake on that. I bet a case of monster they haven’t fucked.” The tanks reached to each other and firmly shook hands as Tankovy pinned Johnny to her glacis plate and sobbed. He stroked her hand passionately to comfort her. “Russian tanks are really small, dude.”

“I told you, I told you a dozen times.”

“Okay mister desert storm veteran. Old ass fart.”

“I’ll still kick your ass.”

“Pshh, okay, gramps. Don’t get senile on me yet.”

While she was still sobbing Tankovy released her hold on Johnny and told him he should go to avoid trouble. He agreed, reassuring her that he will do everything in his part to save her. Her eyes were glossed over with tears and as they stared into each other he could see her desperation, and she could see his dedication. They parted after a moment and he walked away. One of the guards stopped him and asked him what happened out of genuine curiosity. Johnny wanted to get to bed so he briefly skimmed over the events, getting captured, being entombed inside her, recovery, they blew up a terrorist base and ran here. The soldier had respect and admiration for Johnny and sent him off to get some well deserved sleep. Being a nineteen year old kid the soldier told all the other guys the story.

Johnny laid down in his cot, the first bed shaped thing he’s had for almost a year. It was strange to him at first, and his mind raced with cunning strategies and tactics to prop Tankovy up in the best light from a legal perspective. After twenty minutes he was out like a light, in the deepest sleep he’s had since being knocked unconscious. Meanwhile the Abrams guarding Tankovy heard Johnny’s story and also shared some admiration for the couple. He looked over her carefully, noting how poorly kept she was, bolts were rusty, her extremities were all beat up and rusty, too, she was filthy, covered in sand and muck, and her paint was faded and chipping. Now that he knew what company she shared he felt bad for her. 

“Hey, ruskie, you speak English?”

“Yes.” She replied quietly, afraid of what the male Abrams would demand of her.

“You need anything?” She was quiet, wary of a trap. “You’re pretty fucked up, we’ve got wire brushes, we’ve got lube oils, we’ve got water, we could bathe you.” She smiled a little, fond memories of her old crews pampering her flooded her, when they would take pride in her appearance. They used to comb over her, addressing the most minor of faults, rust, fucked up paint, dirt and mud. If she wasn’t out on the field for exercises her crews usually kept her clean and good looking. Even her Iraqi crews kept her decently well cleaned. It all fell apart when Al Qaeda took her in, offering her a better life. She should have known that was a trap. They simply didn’t have everything needed to keep her up like the last two militaries she was with. Some guys tried, but they could only do so much. This offer was like a ticket to heaven for her.

“I would absolutely love that.”

“Okay, I’ll get my new guy to do that tomorrow.” Suddenly his tone shifted to a darker, intimidating mood, “But if you try any funny shit, I’ll rip you apart piece by piece, you tracking?”

“I understand, comrade.” The Abrams was a little giddy, she called him comrade.

“So, how’d a little tank like you end up in a shit-hole like this?”

“Well,” she told him her story, like she told Johnny, about how she was part of the glorious Soviet Army, but when she was slated to be upgraded with new technology Iraq bought more tanks from Russia, and to save money the army sent her to Iraq instead of upgrading her. She served with Iraq until the Gulf wars, her unit was effectively obliterated and consolidated, but by then the war was over, and in the chaos a rebel band named Al Qaeda offered her a better life and opportunity to get back at the juggernaut countries that ruined her. In the moment she took it, but life wasn’t great. She mentioned her maltreatment and how one of the leaders sought to use her for pleasure, and how that didn’t go his way. The Abrams laughed at that, calling the leader fucking stupid for thinking that. She felt a little better, it eased the mood. She talked about wanted to break out and go back to Russia, and how if she tried to leave alone she’d effectively get no where, she wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without a group with her, and didn’t have much fuel to begin with. She needed to stage an attack to grab an American, hide him from the terrorists, and then use him to help blow up the compound to cause a big enough distraction to get away. Then she could be free to find a route back to Russia. The Abrams voiced his critiques of the plan, and mentioned his role in the Gulf wars. They talked about that for a few hours. At the end of the night she felt pretty comfortable with the Abrams, at least. The guards came and went, getting different pieces of the stories, some were pretty interested in them, others couldn’t care less. Just before sunrise Tankovy asked the Abrams a question very quietly, so nobody could hear but him. “Do you think I have a chance at getting into America, to become an American?”

 

Fin Distressed VII

Distressed VI

by

Hello again! Yeah, I know, two posts in 2 month’s time! No really it’s happening! I hope you enjoyed the last entry, here’s part 6, I’m really enjoying these characters a lot. I know I gotta get back to the other stories, too, but hey, I’m gonna ride this wave as far as I can. I hope you enjoy the ride and the story as much I I am, if not more!

Enjoy.

 

Distressed VI

Tankovy stopped herself before entering the valley, in the valley was the village she snatched Johnny from his unit almost a year ago. It was still night time, another bright moon hung in the sky turning the landscape a hue of blue, like a cool sea the desert crashed violently against the jagged rocks that formed the cliffs and mountains. The sand piling up looking like plumes of water flung into the sky by their crashing momentum. Tankovy had never seen the ocean, but from the stories she’s read, the likeness men have made like this, that’s how she imagined it. She was also wondering how she would get across that ocean that separated America from Afghanistan, would she fly in a plane? Would she sail on a ship? Would she even leave, or will she be left in the desert again? Abandoned by those she trusted again. The thought pained her, she almost cried again. She shook off that fear and thought of more immediate matters, Johnny had eaten the last can of unspoiled food she had. She planned to get to the base in two days, now it’s probably going to be three days because of their extended walk and other enjoyable pastimes. She stared at the empty can she had in her hand. Damn humans! Why do you have to eat so much? She knew that he was already thin and frail, malnourished despite feeding him all the food the Taliban gave her, he used so much energy just to heal his body he ended up losing most of his mass. He said he could go a day without eating but she was determined to at least feed him something. She figured that everything she can do for him can only make her look better in the eyes of the American army, so she was going to feed him. She was able to collect some money throughout the years here, what money it was or how much it was worth she had absolutely no idea. Her sense of monetary value was unfounded, she had never had to buy anything in her life. She knew it was late, it probably just turned into a new day, she didn’t quite know. She fished the money out of her little collection bin on her turret and looked at it, literally her life’s savings, amounted to a handful of coins and bills. She removed the few bits that were Russian rubles, and was left with even less material. She prayed it was enough. She set it aside in her hull, putting the rubles back in her collection bin, and laid down to rest. Suddenly she was hit with exhaustion and blacked out. When she woke up she found Johnny stretching and exercising beside her.

“What are you doing!? I have no more food for you, you can’t waste energy like this! Johnny!” He was also just in his old underwear he’s had for almost a year. She enjoyed his exposed body but the situation ruined any appealing factor it would have.

“I can’t sit around and no nothing, I’ll rot away. I’ll be fine, Tankovy, I’ll be fine.” He continued jogging in place, wincing in pain at the exertion.

“Johnny you’re going to hurt yourself, you’re not healthy enough to do this! Please stop! Look, right in the valley is the town I found you in,” he stopped jogging and looked at the valley’s opening, “in that town we can get you some food. I have some money to buy something, I hope.” He just stared into the valley absently. Tankovy pulled the money she set aside out and tried to show him. “See? It’s not much, but it’s all I have.” She sounded defeated. Johnny broke his gaze from the valley and looked at the money and her, she handed it to him, he counted it. “Is it enough?” She croaked.

“Yeah,” he said after hesitation, “it should do fine.” Tankovy saw the look on his face he tried to hide, she knew he was lying.

“It’s all I have.” She almost cried. His face curled into a scowl, she was getting upset.

“I’ll be fine Tankovy, I get up camping, I can go hungry for a day or two.”

“No you can’t! I won’t let you!” She was on the verge of crying. An idea flickered into his mind.

“Wait a minute, you still have something,” she was confused and offended at the conclusion she jumped to, “you have that gun, yeah?” She clung to her roof mounted HMG and her gaze paled.

“But I love my Dishka…” she whimpered.

“No. The other gun.” She grabbed her cannon and whimpered more. He rolled his eyes and slackened. “No, the other, other gun.” She was blank. “The AK.”

“Oh! Yes! It’s in the basket!”

“Well I don’t want it, do you?” She scoffed.

“I’ve seen thousands of these, I don’t give a rats ass for it.”

“Sounds like we’re going to make a shop owner believe in the second amendment.”

“The what?”

“Oh shit, yeah I gotta teach you all about that stuff if you’re trying to be an American citizen.” When he said that her spirits lifted, she even sat higher on her suspension, eyes illuminating bright blue.

“Well let’s go get some food then. Oh yeah, you’re gonna have to do all the talking, I can’t be seen by the locals like this.”

“Like what?” Before his eyes he watched hers disappear behind an invisible shutter, he suddenly couldn’t see her mouth either. He was startled. “Am I fucking crazy? Tankovy!”

“I’m still here, чертов идиот, I’m hiding.”

“Well you really fucking suck at it, I see you.”

“No my face, I don’t look alive, yeah?”

“I guess so.” He shrugged. “Whatever. How’s this going down?”

They moved into the valley, he wore some old clothes he had showing his American patch while he stood in the commanders hatch, acting like he was commanding a driver around. Tankovy paraded herself like she was just another tank, engine loudly rumbling, gun up high, machine gun backwards and pointing up to the sky, jerking around like some guy was struggling to work the tillers. Johnny jostled around, the AK was by his leg, just out of sight. The village looked like any other village he’d seen. Tan brick buildings with vibrantly colored rugs, ships, awnings, and decorations. There were a bunch of old cars down trodden and strewn about, children played in the streets and there were plenty of vendors in their stalls. Tankovy slowed and carefully watched the children, Johnny watched them, too, but also the men. He saw no weapons, he was more at ease. He focused on what they were here for and tried identifying shops for food. Eventually they stumbled across one, across the street from where Tankovy ambushed and kidnapped Johnny. He stopped her and climbed out and down to the ground, staggering towards the bearded man in the door.

“You speak English?” He asked the man, the man said something in Arabic and turned into the building, stepping inside. Johnny was very worried, he was visually anxious. Tankovy watched carefully, ready to pull him away at the first sight of trouble. The man returned with his father, he was obviously older.

“How do I help you?” He asked. Johnny was relieved.

“Yes, thank you, do you sell food here?”

“Yes.”

“Great, we don’t have much money, but we can also give you a rifle to trade for food, if you accept?” The old man nodded, turned to his son and spoke Arabic, who replied to his father.

“Show us the rifle.” Johnny nodded and trotted to Tankovy, hoping up to grab the gun. He showed them the gun, the magazine, and the ammo he had. The two men spoke to each other and nodded. “We accept the trade. How many meals? Three?” Johnny was going to say one, but figured it’d be better to take the three instead. He agreed to the three and asked for the food to be in paper wraps so he could take them and be on his way. The son went inside to make the meals, the old man got close to Johnny and spoke softly to him.

“What’s a American doing with a Russian tank?” Johnny was not ready to answer this, hes quick on his feet, however.

“We found it, took it for ourselves. Just trying to get back to base.” The man nodded.

“You have a big beard, son, how long have you had it?”

“Oh this? It’s nothing, I go a month without shaving and it’s crazy.” The man’s icy gaze pierced Johnny’s.

“It has been a very long time since I’ve seen a American with a beard like yours. A very long time.” Johnny grew anxious again, stepping closer to Tankovy. “You must have been around for a while, did you hear the big explosion the other night?” Johnny was very uncomfortable. The old man reached into his pocket, Johnny stared at his hand. Tankovy prepared to rip Johnny away and bolt. Her arm slowly slithered from behind Johnny towards him. The man pulled his hand out of his pocket with a challenge coin and a fist full of crumpled Afghanistan bills. “Keep the money, my friend.” He dropped the coin into his pocket before his son came out with three kebabs. Johnny recognized the coin and relieved all tension, he smiled and thanked the two men, shaking their hands. He took his food and climbed back onto Tankovy, shouting down into the empty hull to drive on. Tankovy spurred and jolted forwards like a lead footed driver, crawling out of the valley with Johnny on top. Johnny immediately ate one of the kebabs as soon as they got through the town, he offered some to Tankovy but she refused, he needed it way more than her.

“You should really try tasting stuff that’s not my cock or cum. I think you’d be a lot happier.” He was wolfing down the kebab in gulps. It was so good, way better than any MRE he’s ever had.

“I’ve eaten food before, I like kebabs a lot. Lamb’s pretty good, goat’s good, too. Chebueki is nice, mmm I love kotlet.” She wrapped an arm around his thin leg, slowly reaching up his thigh. He swatted her hand just before it got into his lap.

“Hey! We gotta get first. You said no more fooling around, remember?” Her guns slouched in defeat.

“да, I remember.” The distrust began brewing in her heart again. Johnny felt her mood shift to a sort of ominous gloom, he didn’t like that.

“Hey, remember when I mentioned the second amendment? Well, I’ll tell you about it, give you a little history lesson on America.”

Johnny taught her a rough history of why America founded and how certain events led to the formation of the new country, he made brief, rudimentary explanations on the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and what it stood for, and the Bill of Rights, emphasizing the right to free speech and the right to bear arms and form militias. He did bring up more amendments, but his emphasis on the first two rights is what blew her away. It was a drastic contrast to Russia, especially Soviet Russia. In the between times of giving directions he taught her all he could, going over political parties, the national anthem, brief summary of how government works, emphasizing she really learn this so she can become an American and live with him. Every time he mentioned making her an American to live with him her heart would burst with emotion, every now and then tears formed. Her deep dark distrust told her he was really selling a lie, but her heart went with him. Johnny had a few friends that came to America as immigrants, he was familiar with the processes and tests they had to go through to become citizens. He thought that it was always funny how immigrants to America know more about America than most of natural born americans. He would tell Tankovy that soon she would also know more about America than most Americans and that filled his chest with fire, driving him even more to teach her.

For most of the ride Johnny sat in his favorite spot in the driver’s seat. Tankovy liked him there most as well, she could peek down on him every now and then, holding him was easy, and he was closest to her tunnel of fun and frolicking. She held him tight and daydreamed of their future, she thought of luscious green grass fields, full and vibrant oak trees, she saw him there, clean shaven and healthy, and just when she thought about kids she didn’t see any, her heart sank. She massaged his shoulders and brought it up to him.

“John, baby, what kids are we going to have?”

“Hmm?” He was confused.

“Kids, what kids do you want? W-we are staying together, right?” Small shrills of panic strung in her voice.

“Yeah we’re sticking together, just, kids? I mean, well, we do get to choose the kids we adopt. I was an only child, always wanted a sibling. So two kids-”

“Adopt?”

“How else are we having kids? Tanky I can’t get you pregnant. I’m not a tank… you know that, right?”

“Oh no, Johnny, I don’t work like that-machines don’t work like that, you can impregnate me, you can get me pregnant as fuck.” Johnny panicked, thrashing in his chair.

“What!?” He exclaimed. “Tankovy I’m not ready for kids! Oh fuck!” She wrapped him up and forced him in the chair.

“No, Johnny, stop! I’m not pregnant! Stop! That’s not how you impregnate me!” He calmed down a little bit.

“So what is it?! Can I knock you up or not?” He was terribly confused.

“My turn to teach you, baby. So yes, I have eggs, and I need sperm to fertilize them, yes, but your sperm will never reach my eggs without my help. You can pump all the sperm you want into me, from two loads to a gallon-”

“A gallon of nut? Goddamn, that’s kinda hot I guess.” She smiled and giggled, it did sound pretty fun, even it it was ridiculous.

“Sure, even a gallon, it won’t reach my eggs. I have a cervix, like humans, but mine is sealed, you have to penetrate my cervix to let the semen in, otherwise, it goes nowhere.”

“So, I was as deep as I could go, I didn’t even touch it… is it some syringe shit? Am I breeding you like a race horse? What-?”

“I can move it, shallow, deep, I can bring my cervix so shallow I could almost kiss your balls with it.”

“That sounds like fun.”

“Oh fuck yeah it does. And I cannot wait for that day, you’re going to pump so much but into men I’m gonna get pregnant. I won’t get off of you until it’s done. But until that day, or days, we are safe.”

“Huh,” he said, “you’re a fucking cheater you are. You know that?” She took offense to that.

“Excuse me!?”

“You can fuck all you want and not get pregnant? No protection, no condoms, no pull-out. I can nut in you every day of my life worry free and not have to cut my balls off? That’s cheating.” She relaxed after that, understanding his play. “I love you so fucking much. One helluva woman.” Jackpot! Tankovy thought to herself. “So, why is your cervix sealed?”

“It’s a vacuum inside. So that I can suck the semen from the vagina to the eggs.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can practically suck your testicles dry through your dick.” He was near-instantaneously rock hard. He was in awe as he stared at her thick vaginal tendril between his feet. She smiled deviously. She slithered her drop-dead gorgeous pussy towards him and opened the slit with a hand. “Look baby, I’ll show you my cervix.” He stared at her vagina, he saw the walls change form and men’s when suddenly a tight hole came into view with very pronounced muscles encircling it, it was super tight looking. Looked like a tight flesh donut inside a looser flesh donut between thick sideways eyelids. He craved it on his lap, as she promised, kissing his balls. “But that comes later, baby,” she retracted her cervix into the depths again, “for now I’ll keep it right here, perfect fit for your big cock, baby.” A hand of hers glided over the large bulge in his pants where his erect cock throbbed. She licked her lips in anticipation.

“So what do you mean, what kids?”

“Depending on how much you continue to seed me through my pregnancy with result in different looking children. If you, say, one and done me, I’ll give you a child tank, he’ll grow up into a T-72 just like I am. If you inseminate me every night, though, I’ll give you a baby boy that’s human, like you. He’ll grow up to be a big strong man like you.”

“Is it one or the other?”

“No there’s a grey area.” He thought of monstrous machine men that looked like Transformers, cool, but not what he had in mind. “So let’s say I want a little… human… boy, if I miss one night because, say, I couldn’t get it up… what then?” She laughed.

“Its not that strict, trust me, I’m stricter than that. You just have to regularly supply me with more baby batter and I’ll whip up a beautiful baby for you, love. And I’ll carry all the children you want, I did have hundreds of brothers and sisters, after all.” She massaged his chest passionately. “I’m all about big families, baby.” She grabbed another kebab and put it in his lap. “Here, baby, eat up. You need it.”

He didn’t contest, he knew that by now they were getting close to the base. The roads started to become paved streets, still void of much around them, just the occasional house here and there. The sun was hanging lower than he expected it to, they must have slept in for a long time. He checked Tankovy’s gas and saw she was fine. He asked her if he could drive for a bit, let her rest, if that’s how it worked. She affirmed that if he drove she could relax and let the machine half of her take over, but she didn’t want to teach him right now, she wanted to get to the base first. There she’ll teach him every about her. He accepted the deal. He realized that maybe a random T-72 driving up to an active American FOB wasn’t a good idea, so he went into the turret basket to scrounge for stuff to make a white banner. He found what looked like an old white tank top and settled on it. He found a bit of string, too, but no stick. Tankovy said that in training exercises the Russians put flags on the antennas, so that’s what he did. He bent the antenna over and tied the shoulders to the wire, the string reinforced it. He eased it up to sit up high and it stayed on, flapping along in the wind. He silently hoped that would be enough to not get them smoked at first sight.

Not too long after Johnny said he started to see very familiar ridgelines and geographic features, and not long after, just as the sun started setting behind the mountains, they saw the base. Hastily they approached to get there before nightfall, just so they aren’t taken as a serious threat. Both of them hoped it to be closer to mid day, because that’s the worst time to attack, and the best time to identify them as surrendering. They were about three quarters of a mile when Johnny told her to stop and approach very slowly, so she did, her guns were high and u loaded, Johnny was exposed, wearing the remnants of his uniform, arms up and holding his military ID and his dog tags. They shouted at the base to get the guards’ attention, sure enough it worked. Four Apache helicopter rose from behind the sandbag walls and circled tankovy, who stopped in her tracks. Then the gates opened and two Abrams tanks rushed out and got onto her 10 o’clock and 2 o’clock corners. Infantry squads stuck close behind the tanks, setting up firing positions and scanning for any other threats. This is the first time a tank has ever had the balls to roll straight up to the front gate of a FOB, much less to surrender. A team of grunt moved towards the tank, trying to stay on the flank, and ordered Johnny to slowly get down off the tank and lay on the ground. As he complied he remembered to tell her something.

“Oh yeah, Tankovy, those two Abrams are alive. Hands up, missy.” As he laid on the dirt, hands behind his back still holding his ID, Tankovy slowly unveiled herself and stretched out a lot of arms, four from under the mud flaps, two from the commander’s hatch, two from the gunner’s hatch, and two from the driver’s hatch. The face on an Abrams lit up in astonishment. The soldiers hesitated. Her ‘throat’ was dry, her voice coarse, she never would have thought she would say this…

“…I surrender…”

 

Fin Distressed VI

I really hope you enjoyed this insert, I had a fun time writing it. If you’ve got any feedback lemme know. Do you like the random inserts of different languages in their native writing, or should I keep everything in alphabetical forms? Like da instead of да? Or do you not care? Again, I hope you enjoyed! Take care, stay safe.

Distressed V

by

Hey y’all, it’s been a very, very long time since I’ve posted anything, and it’s been a very, very, very long time since I’ve updated this series. The past two years has been pretty rough for us all, but hopefully this can bring a little bit of joy and pleasure to your day. I wanted to thank you all for reading what I post, some of the stuff I’ve reread is pretty cringe, and I hope that every post I make is entertaining for you all, so here, after almost two years without a post at all, I present a dirty, smutty update for the Distressed T-72 and her “prisoner.”

 

Enjoy.

Distressed V

 

Tankovy woke first, in her arms Jonny laid propped up in the chair, wrapped with a blanket and her loving embrace. She eyed him lustfully and passionately, enjoying his presence, his warmth, his gentle breathing and his subtle heartbeat. She was really feeling sore in her hind quarters, but the aching felt good, she felt alive again. She wasn’t stiff anymore, she wasn’t hopeless, desolate, or anxious. She was hopeful, emboldened, and free! She thought about what Johnny suggested last night about moving to America, she had heard stories and tales that it’s the land of the free, full of gun toting, big hat wearing, lively and bombastic people. She’s sure her view is a stigmatized and stereotypical one, but it is where Johnny came from, and while she’s not convinced if she truly loves him or not, he did help liberate her. Sure, his options were limited, but he still went with her plan and gave her one helluva night to remember. Her Soviet side kicked in, and she thought it could possibly be a trap to ensnare her, dissect her for secrets, or prosecute her as his abductor and captor. That terrified her greatly. Panic rose inside her. How could she trust Johnny? Deep inside her she believed him, she wanted him, but her mind refused to give in, a deep rift formed between her sides. 

Johnny woke soon after Tankovy. Once he stirred awake and greeted Tankovy she began taking down the tarp and redressing herself in her skirts. He ruffled about her cramped interior and found a map, compass, and a few broken GPS devices. None of them worked of course, they were all cannibalized for parts. Tankovy said she knew where they were, and that she was going to go to the village she found him in for a reference point. He opened the map and she pointed to it, from there he could figure out where the army FOB is, or at least, where it was. Once she was all dressed up and packed they were ready to go. She lurched forward and began moving -without igniting her engine.

“Tankovy?”

“Yes?”

“How are you moving?”

“I can move around without my engine on, it’s better for saving what fuel I have left. It’s not very fast. I burned through a lot of gas when we escaped, I have to ration it now.”

“So how fast can we go?” He looked at the gauges on her dashboard and the only needle he saw at a realistic reading was pointing just past 12.

“I’m getting about twelve kilometers an hour.”

“So, what’s that in American?”

“I think it’s eight miles.” He looked at the map and saw the village, then where he thought they were coming from.

“Fuck.”

“Do not worry, Johnny, we will be there by sunset.” She grinned and slid one of her hands under the blanket to grope his penis. “Besides, that gives us a lot of time together.” He smiled, grabbing her hand with his.

“Hold on now, what do I get to play with? I want to have some fun, too.” He went to get up but she held him down. “Hey, there’s nothing in there for me to play with.”

“Oh are you sure about that?”

“Yeah, unless you just want to hold hands.”

“Oh I’m sure there’s something in there you’d love to play with.” Between his legs a fat long tendril snaked up towards him, at first he thought it was a giant snake, but when it came into the light he saw on its tip was a slender vertical slit running across two thirds of the diameter. “Holy shit you have a cock?” She laughed.

“Oh, no! I only have your cock…” she squeezed his member and massaged it. “This, this is also to couple with your cock.” Two of her fingers straddled the slit and spread them apart, letting him see into it. He saw her labia, her clit, the vagina and even a urethra… for some reason.

“Y-You have… two vaginas?” He was confused. A hand of hers combed through his long hair, and ran through his beard.

“Mm-hmm, I do. One in the back, and one inside. Look at it, look at me, look fun?” His cock was throbbing to life, slowly pumping and twitching to his full size. Feeling it all happen in her grasp made her vagina start to water. He eyed it savagely as beads of her juices formed and dripped out of her sex.

“Oh it’s so beautiful. Oh I want to have so much fun with you, baby…” His cock began to throb more, precum started oozing from his tip and creeping towards the belly of her cabin. Just looking at her open pussy made his cock tingle and heat, imagining itself buried deep inside her passionate walls. He reached for her sex to carefully coddle her and guide her onto his shaft when she smacked his hand away and an arm pulled his back. He was bewildered.

“Ah-ah-ah! Don’t you know not to distract the driver while they drive?” She hauled him to lean back in the seat but kept his gaze locked onto her damp pussy. A hand of hers slowly grasped his long shaft, encircling it methodically with one finger at a time.

“What? But it’s right there, babe, let me hold it, please?!” She moved herpussy closer to his cock, but just off to the side where she rested it on his thigh. Still she held it open for him to peer deep into her casm. “Why, Tankovy, why?”

“I want to have a little fun, y’know, and I think you’re a lot of fun.”

Two of her fingers wicked and tapped the tip of his cock, smearing his precum between her fingers and lathering it over his cock head. She switched her hand position to wrap all her fingers around his shaft and used her thumb to rub his dick’s chin like it was a Zippo lighter. She rubbed very roughly, inexperienced with the task. Johnny winced in pain, trying to push through it for her, but he gave in and griped about how rough she was and she softened up on him. Johnny appreciated it and told her it felt much better. She ran a hand through his long hair while massaging his balls and rubbing his cock, taunting him by gently tapping the clit on herself, leaking more at the lips. Johnny oozed more precum, and Tankovy rubbed it all over his shaft and greased her hands up with it, making her fingers slick yet sticky. She loved it, she oozed more of her juices and dreamed of feeling his cock deep inside her and absolutely filling her to the brim with his semen. She had to focus hard on driving to keep moving on. Johnny withered in her grasp and moaned, tenderly she massaged his body and cradled his balls, teasing him with her pussy dripping onto his cock.

She could feel his rigid cock begin throbbing and subtly pump, his precum was increasing in volume and his heart raced, she knew he was drawing to the cusp of cumming. She begged him to cum, she wanted to feel it in her hands. Her constant pleading and her passionate stroking brought him closer and closer to cumming, he chanted to her how close he was until he erupted. He quivered and moaned loudly as ropes of semen flung out from his cock onto Tankovy’s warm metal hand, she tried catching as much as she could. He huffed and puffed as he came down from his high, still orgasming as Tankovy meaded his meat and played with the semen in her other hand. She was giggling, feeling him cum like that made her very horny, much hornier than she already was. She had beaded his nut up in her hand when she brought it up through the open driver’s hatch and cleaned her hand with her tongue, lapping and savoring his seeds taste as she did so. Johnny was panting and heaving while his heart slowed and his cock began going limp.

“Oh no, not yet!” Her hand clenched his cock and her pussy came up close to his face, so close he could feel her intense heat radiating off of her slit. “I’m not done yet, so neither are you! Come on!” She caressed his manhood, both shaft and balls, while waving and wafting her slightly swollen vagina in his face, just put of his reach. “You smell that, Johnny? Do you smell me? Do you smell my lust? I’m a bitch in heat right now and I really need my fix! You think you can help me with that, baby?” He tried nodding but she held him back, he cried out in favor of helping her with her pesky troubles. “Good, very good. Don’t worry, my little hairy man, I’ll make you feel good, too.” She began rapidly stroking his cock, it had already returned to full strength, and slowly drew her pussy away with a wink. His cock was super sensitive and made him a lot more vocal about his pleasure. While he was being serviced by one hand, she fingered herself with one of hers.

Her pussy again rested on his thigh as they moaned and cooed together, trembling in harmony. Johnny watched in astute wonder as she fingered herself, how beautifully her lips parted to accept the stimulating member, how sleek and shiny it was, almost like polished tin. He told her to also rub her clit, so she conceded. Another hand came over the top to whirl around on her bean, instantly through the seat he could feel how crazy she was going. His own stimulation made his toes curl and fingers cross, his legs flex and bend, while his back rolled. Tankovy was rocking like a cradle on her suspension, desperately trying to force herself to keep driving on, her torsion bars trembled and bowed almost, her gun shook, her engine sputtered, and her pussy began oozing lubricants much more liberally. All she could think of was his cock ramming her, using her like the slut she is, making her his personal cum depository. She could hardly wait, but she knew she had to. She felt his cusp approaching through his cock fluctuations, and his moans became sporadic and heightened in pitch. Suddenly she stoped stroking him and let go of him, bringing him to the edge, but she didn’t stop pleasuring herself. He protested her releasing him, he wanted to cum, too, but instead he watched, and drooled, as her pussy tendril flexed and bowed and quivered as more and more lubricant poured out. Suddenly she whipped her finger out and away and continued to furiously flick her bean until she came. Her orgasm clenched her vagina so fast and tight that Johnny could see it visually, and a spray of her lubricant hosed over him as she screamed and dropped to the sand. The whole ride was a blast for Johnny, even if he didn’t blast, himself.

Tankovy pressed on driving, and once her orgasm had subsided she continued servicing johnny, edging him on two more times until she had enough. Just after his third edging, where she had been dangling her pussy over him, dripping onto him the whole time, she made sure he watched her count dive into his cock and slid him all the way inside, seating her lips to kiss his balls. His eyes rolled into his head, his whole body quivered, and even Tankovy gasped and fell to the sand. She was giddy after she tortured the both of them and finally unionized their sexes together. Both were drooling, both were feeling, and both realized how this was a perfect fit. His cock was just long enough to be pressing against her cervix, and her pussy was just tight enough to hold his cock inside her with authority and dedication. Tankovy wanted to hold him there forever, buried deep inside her and filling her void perfectly. His presence was unwinding her stress, silencing her woes, and filling her heart with love and affection. She needed him, undeniably. Johnny was likewise enjoying her embrace. He was so sensitive that he could feel the vibrations of the tracks on her wheels through her flesh, her heat soothed his whole body and her pulsing muscles grasping his cock sent waves of relaxation through his spine. Being inside her assured him everything was right, there were no problems, there was no conflict, they were one unit together. They mellowed out together briefly before Tankovy slowly drug her pussy up his shaft, exposing how she lathered his cock in a thick slime of her lubricants. Johnny was super sensitive to her and cried out in pleasure, seeing how dirty she left him made him rock hard and super horny, she couldn’t see it but feeling his penis leave her created a longing desire to slam him back inside her, it felt wrong not having his cock take up all the space in her halls.

She cried out his name as the brim of his helmet seated itself at the opening of her tender, mushy pussy. He huffed out her name as he saw her hungry lips quiver on his meat. She elegantly slid herself back down onto him, seating her lips again at his base, kissing his testicles. Again he could feel her torsion bars buckle and the two of them momentarily dropped a few inches as they recoiled from the huge stimuli. Again she rested on his shaft before raising up, letting her heart cry out in protest of his absence, and sliding all the way down again. She continued this over, and over, and over again. The two of them begged not to stop, don’t ever stop, neither of them wanted this to ever end. They wanted to love forever, but knew that biology had damned them, they would orgasm, and grow tired, and have to stop. They hated that fact, the end, but they loved the journey. The two of them couldn’t see each other’s drooling faces but they were imagining the pleasure on the other’s face. Johnny’s mouth wide open and his eyes rolling around in his head, Tankovy with her tongue covered in nut and her eyes crossed, pure baby-making faces. Like this they rode on for a few miles, whenever Johnny grew close to cumming he would cry that he didn’t want to cum yet and Tankovy would stop riding him for a minute. Eventually she wanted his cum inside her, and she wanted it badly. Soon he began crying out again but she didn’t stop this time, her strokes shortened as she kept his edge deep inside her, his moans grew louder, his twitching grew more ferocious, his cock pulsed and pumped with a mission. Suddenly he screamed out as he came, his orgasm hit him like a freight train and he spasmed out, gushing and shoot thick pumps of his sperm into her vagina. She had fully seated him then and entirely fixated her attention on him cumming inside her. She felt his cock pump and contract as it lobbed flops of baby batter into her, it hit her cervix, pressed against his tip, and ran everywhere. None breeched her cervix oriface, clentched shut naturally, but instead it first bubbled and pooled at the top between the cervix wall and her cock head, sealing it in as biology wanted it to do, but the pressure grew too much and leaks formed, his cum drained down channels in her vaginal flesh and in rifts between their bodies. She gripped the base of his cock as she wanted it all inside, but even then gaps were found and his potent white seed, now turned grey by mixing with her lube, eeked out and dripped around his balls and between his legs. She was insane with pleasure as she felt his hot seed coat her insides, she wasn’t done yet. She slowly and sensually stroked more, gentle, slow short strokes with her muscles clasping on him to push herself over and get off on his cock and cum. Johnny’s body was shaking from sensory overload by this point. Thankfully it didn’t take much for her hurts to churn and convulse like his, she again slid all the way down his shaft to kiss his balls while her gooey insides convulsed and twitched and leaked even more of its contents onto Johnny’s lap. Neither of them noticed but she was pushing her nose through the sand and rocks of the desert, only a few torsion bars on her ass end could hold her up as she senselessly drove on.

They were high with dopamine as they lingered their way forward, huffing and moaning and groaning and cooing. Like a ritualistic trance they muttered their love and affection to one another, promises of never leaving each other, deep seeded love, bright futures and all the in-betweens filled the silence left without the vigorous Mac n cheese noises pilfering the air. Their hands gripped each other and their fingers glided over each other like ballet dancers, fluidly. They recovered slowly, eventually getting to about their normal states yet still interlocked at the hip. Johnny had long gone soft but Tankovy held on to him, either to cork herself or to keep him ready to go for another round as soon as Jr. down there felt he was ready, she couldn’t decide which reason to claim. He asked for more wiggle room so she released some of her hold on his body, allowing him to stretch and contort around the little cabin space in her hull. He sat up, looking around outside, such a nice day, only about a hundred and ten degrees, but good cloud cover. Entering the shade of a cloud was seriously noticed and appreciated by them both. With Tankovy still on his lap holding his manhood hostage he noticed his balls weren’t sweating themselves to death, she was actually keeping his junk cool, it had been so long since a feeling like this was had he savored it for all it was worth. They talked about sexual interests, because Tankovy didn’t know what kinks meant. Obviously Tankovy really liked but, the taste, the feel, the juiciness, Johnny wasn’t into tease-torture, but he felt like he could definitely do that again.

A few hours later Johnny wanted to stretch his legs, he wanted to walk with her. She didn’t want to get off his lap, but gave in after promises of favors, and more big nuts. Johnny wrapped the blanket around his waist and climbed out, Tankovy slowed to a crawl so he could jump down and walk with her. He struggled at first, still trying to regain full motor control over his legs. Watching him struggle made Tankovy think that perhaps he should be walking more anyways. They held each other’s hand and strolled along, for once taking in the scenery of Afghanistan. Vast mountain ranges of various colors, green and brown rocks climbing to the sky, a few were even snow capped, Tankovy talked about how she had noted every single detail of that valley she lived in for a decade, how she loved the vast sights she could see when she was let loose every now and again. She talked about how she was tempted to run away every time the Taliban set her loose like an angry dog. Johnny asked her why she never left during these trips, she said that she really didn’t have anywhere else to go. She didn’t want the life of a criminal, and she couldn’t get back to Russia on her own. She’d have to steal fuel, or fight her way back, and even after all that, Russia sold her off to begin with, she didn’t even know if they would even take her back. Johnny vowed he would do everything he could to get her back home with him. He told her he wanted her in America. Tankovy wept softly, nobody ever said they wanted her before. She let her deepest fears out after that, she talked about her trust issues, her fears of deception, her instincts fighting inside her and holding her heart hostage. She was scared, she was scared of America imprisoning her. Johnny took her hand in both of his and held it tightly as he told her that he wouldn’t let that happen, he gave her his word he would do everything he could to keep her free.

“No more of that, now. Let’s just enjoy the walk now, Tankovy.” She perked up and they walked together, knowing it prolonged their journey, but they didn’t care, they had each other. And privacy. The only problem was that Tankovy only had one more can of food for Johnny. They promised that they’d fuck one more good pounding, then as Johnny slept Tankovy would get as far as she could.

 

Fin Distressed V

I hope y’all enjoyed that. I think I may have caught my wind again, I’m already working on more posts, hopefully I can crank out an update to TNG, or really anything. I’ve dabbled in so many little projects but finished none of them, quite sad. Anyways, thank you for reading!