baby

HaM Ch 54 Hannah

by

This chapter is pretty short but one of the biggest events in their lives, everyone, meet Hannah.

Enjoy.

HaM 54

The room renovations were finished shortly before Marion went into labor. It was sudden and out of nowhere, she was minding her business outside, tending to some plants in her garden when suddenly she was slammed with a huge shock and convulsions inside her. Her first thought was the baby must’ve rolled onto something like her driveshaft, it happened before, but this was everywhere, this was something much more. She realized what this might be, still unsure, and crawls her way into the hanger house, dragging herself and the dirt and plants with her. She was breathing heavy and very fast, she needed help and called Hansel, trying very hard not to break the phone. The ringing phone made her ‘head’ throb with pain and she groaned as she felt her insides churning. Someone kindly answered the phone and politely asked who was calling.
“GET HANSEL WALTER!” The urgency in her voice was enough to panic the receiver and Hansel was very quickly, almost instantly, put on the phone. “It’s coming! It’s coming! It’s coming!” Marion huffed out every breath, Hansel put it in full gear and threw down the phone and ran to get his things. He bear-hugged his bag, coat, and hat, and ran out the back to his car.
He had to pass the office on his way out and yelled as he left: “Gotto go! Urgent!” Roberson knew it was about that time and dashed to the doorway to call after him.
“Hey! You need help!?” Hansel didn’t hear anything as he dumped the stuff into his car. He raced home as fast as the car would let him, and he slid into the driveway churning up the dirt path with his vicious acceleration and breaking. He threw the car into neutral and jumped out running to the open hanger door, he didn’t notice anything. He ran in to the main space and up to Marion, she had drug herself to the phone and no further. She was there, uncomfortable but not in the amount of pain as earlier. Hansel spat out a thousand questions about how she was, how long she had, what she wanted, what he needed to do, and if he was too late. She told him she’s alright, that she’s in labor and that she must be very close to birth. Hansel’s mind settles and cleared and suddenly remembered everything he had forgot. He took in deep breaths to calm down and he turned back to his car to park it. He noticed all the mud and plant parts all on the floor that’s he’d have to clean, he’d call the doctor and some help most likely, he’d call in to work to tell them what happened. His car had drifted into a tree so eventually he’d need to pop out that dent and clean up the scratch but everything else about it was alright. He parked it and went to call the doctor, the doctor said that Marion would have to give birth out there in the house, and would need some help to hold her up. Hansel tried calling some friends to see if they’d help and was able to get a few to help out.
He kept up with Marion and tried to keep her comfortable with ice packs, cool drinks, hand massages, whatever he could to relieve pain. She’d have flashes of contractions and then she’d be alright again, Hansel just hoped that help got here quick, before Marion tried pushing a baby out through the ground. Not too much help was able to make it but they were determined to make do with what they had. The only ones that could arrive on this notice was Mini, Shellproof and Whacker, Fritz and Jäger, Porscha, and unexpectedly Inbred and Erika showed up, Whacker got ahold of them and with this gang it’d turn out that they had enough strength to pick Marion up completely. Hansel thought that they would at least have to use the reinforced rafters and gantries in the ceiling to help but now that was just a luxury. They still rigged Marion’s rear end up with chains to the gantry and on the end were Mini and Shellproof, their engines had the grit to pick her up rapidly with Fritz, Jäger, Porscha and Erika picking her up off the ground where her lower glacis was almost flat on the ground. All the people would be nearly under her waiting with a large dolly and blankets to catch the baby and get her out fast. They waited around all day for Marion to start giving birth, but all they got for the day were contractions and false alarms. And so, of course, the real thing happened in the most inconvenient timeframe when everyone was tired, bored, and absent minded. In the early morning hours of a new day, March tenth, Marion had the fiercest contractions yet, what normally starts as hard and labored breathing was instantly screaming, jolting everyone into action. Everyone quickly assumed their duties and knew this was it, Marion was screaming and hollering like never before and she was flexing her body to the point it groaned. Usually the shows go on about how she’s cursing the husband for what he did to her but not Marion, she’s been wanting this for far too long. She did scream about the pain but her drive was fueled by everyone egging her on, telling her how well she was doing and that everything was going fine. They kept chanting ‘push, push, push’ as the newborn slowly appeared.
The first thing to come out was a lot of goop, various fluids and materials fumed out and slipped to the ground, orange, grey, and brown colors. The first that they actually saw of Hannah was her exhaust pipes, bare and filled to the brim with placenta fluids, and slowly her stern eased out, stretching Marion’s vagina to where Hansel felt uncomfortable, regardless he carried on with his task and grabbed his daughter to help the doctor guide her onto the pallet waiting for her arrival. Hannah’s turret seemed to get caught on Marion and caused Marion to scream even more, the doctor took a pry-bar and eased the vagina over the turret, letting Hannah slip out almost instantly. As soon as Hannah was out the doctor took the cutters and snipped the umbilical cord and helped race Hannah out of Marion’s way. All the tanks eased Marion down very, very gently and kept up the encouragement. Telling her it was beautiful and it was done, she did great and it all went perfectly. The doctor, Inbred, and Whacker were busy cleaning off Hannah’s intakes, exhausts, and mouth before getting her to breath on her own. It took a vacuum and some squeezing from Mini to get her to breath, and once she did breath she cried and screamed like any other baby would. Hansel was awestruck. Hannah was beautiful, she was grey-pink and a little tiny Marion. Her eyes were obviously there but clenched shut. Her arms flailed around and reached out at nothing while her drive sprockets spun back and forth without any tracks to grip, her suspension bending up into her recess and pushing against the pallet. Her gun was recoiled and pressed down over her bow, and she had no skirts, cables, or tools. She was an ugly mess right now but the most beautiful thing in Hansel’s eyes. He stood there unable to do anything but smile and cry, he admired his little angel forever. He was so proud, so happy, so overcome with emotions, he moved to her and knelt down, embracing his gooey messy baby in his arms and held it to her protesting. He drug her over by Marion so they could enjoy her together, their proudest moment, together. Marion was exhausted, she seemed faded from the endeavor and didn’t look to be in good health. The doctor was focusing on Hannah and made sure Hannah was as healthy as can be before moving attention to Marion. Marion was being checked out by the doctor and the other tanks when Hansel noticed Marion was staring at the end of her barrel. She wasn’t noticing Hansel or Hannah.
“Marion! Honey! Marion!” He got up and jumped to her side, “Marion, dear, look! We did it! You did it! Hannah! She’s beautiful! Look! Look Marion, Look!” His voice was ecstatic, he was full of laughter and joy, he shook on Marion’s side and pointed at Hannah, still flailing around and crying. Marion’s eyes slowly shifted to Hannah. Her gaze was locked onto her. An arm fell out from under her skirt and Hansel jumped over to push Hannah up against Marion so she could reach her baby. Marion smiled wide and tiredly, she, too started crying and could divert her attention from Hannah. Sluggishly a tendril creeped out from Marion’s bow and slithered up to Hannah’s mouth.
“Hannah, ba-by! Mom’s here, it’s okay! It’s okay! C’mere, ba-by! Mom will make it allllll better!” Her several attempts to feed Hannah were in vain. She gave up and left her tendril there on Hannah’s deck and dozed off, weary and tired. Hansel was extremely worried for her and begged the doctor and Porscha not to leave, they didn’t and stayed to make sure Marion would be alright. Hansel stayed up for the whole next day, not leaving Hannah and Marion’s side for anything unless it was absolutely necessary. It turned out the others stayed for the night and weren’t going to leave without giving a more awake Marion their congratulations. Hansel watched with impressive excitement as Hannah wrapped an arm around Marion’s tendril and started drinking milk. Later when Hannah was asleep Marion woke up and Hansel instantly spat out everything in a wild blur, unable to control his excitement. Marion tried keeping up, but she was still loopy from her exhaustion and it was hard to concentrate and focus with all her hormones and emotions flooding her. She did pick up that Hannah had drank some milk, and that the others were still here. She could tell that he didn’t sleep and didn’t know how long she’d been asleep. She saw that it was about five-thirty on the clock, and the sun was setting. She silently smiled wide and brought Hansel close to her side, wrapping a tendril around his waist and clenching Hannah by her side, she looked at her family and felt the love fill her. She noticed the tired look in Hansel, the dried fluids on Hannah’s deck, and the equipment still hooked up to her ass annoyingly. But she didn’t care about that. She finally had her family, a family more beautiful than she imagined, with love much stronger than she ever felt, and optimism shining down upon them.
“Hansel, you look tired. Get some sleep, now, I got her.”
“I might try.” He said leaning into her side, almost resting. The stir brought out all their helpers, they cooed over Hannah like Hansel did earlier, said their congratulations to the new parents and went home. Marion suggested he sleep again. “I don’t think I can! I’m so anxious! I’ll just roll around, baby!” She giggled and ran her hand through his hair, it was soft, full, and relaxing for both of them.
“I think you’ll sleep fine, babe.”
“I don’t want to go.” He said looking down at Hannah. Marion carted him up and stretched him out on her deck just ahead of her turret, she was turned over Hannah so he had plenty of room. She brought him up to her lips and they smooched good, and shortly after he started falling asleep. “I love you, Marion.”
“I love you, Hansel.” She hugged him tight and stroked his body, his arm, his leg, his hair, and just before he dozed off she said she wanted another one.

Fin Ch54

Hannah is their first child, she comes out about 7 and a half tons and is going to be quite the challenge for the new parents. Parenting is not easy, maybe natural, but this is certainly not anything close to Cindy. And yes, Marion will get another child.

Yamato II

by

Here’s Yamato II, the second insert for Yamato. I just couldn’t resist putting her into another story, WOWS is too tempting. Oh and yes there’s a shoutout to WOWS, but that’s besides the point.

OH! and here’s the Yamato theme song for my favorite RTS game Battlestations Pacific with super sexy and impressive pictures and paintings:

The video’s good for the battle scene 😉 Enjoy!

Yamato II

Yamato handed Daichi to Hisashi, he was their bright little baby boy. Yamato had given birth not forty-eight hours ago and Daichi was already proving to be a trouble maker. When Yamato tried to ‘breast’ feed him he grabbed her nipple and did drink a little from it but took it and smacked it against her arm like it was a stick. Another instance is when they tried to put him to sleep he would rattle his crib open and get out, all throughout the night he’d wake up and bust out of his crib. They expected him to cry throughout the night but no, he silently would break out and would be caught when he fell from the crib to the floor and climb onto Hisashi. Yamato said he just loves his dad a lot but she knew he did it to be an annoyance. With all the crap he’s put them through they still couldn’t be happier. He’s a little tan bundle and when Hisashi took him he smiled upon his little boy. Daichi’s little brown eyes squinted in the sunlight and his little arms reached out to the sun to block out the light. Hisashi rubbed Daichi’s head, feeling the soft little black hairs already growing out. Hisashi sat down against Yamato’s superstructure and rocked his son in his arms.

“You’re going to grow up and make us proud, Daichi.”

“You tell him that every time you see him.”

“I don’t want him to have any doubts.” At that moment an Admiral stepped onto Yamato and asked for Hisashi. An attendant led him to the Admiral’s bridge and asked him to wait while the attendant fetched Hisashi. He climbed up a level and opened the blast door and called for Hisashi. Hisashi muttered ‘I thought I was retired’ and climbed up the ladder. Yamato held her son while daddy climbed up. He followed the attendant and just before the door to the bridge was opened the admiral commanded ‘at ease’ and surprised Hisashi. Hisashi still snapped to attention before the admiral. “Sir, what fortune have we found to have your presence?”

“Hisashi Isobe I understand it is still drilled into you to treat me with high respects but if you could try to refrain from it that would be greatly appreciated.”

“As you wish, sir.”

“I am greatly humbled to be here, Yamato here in a Japanese slipway was far beyond my childhood dreams when I was inspired to join by her, but much like in her time of glory Japan’s Navy is small; and just like in her time of glory Japan is at war.” Hisashi blinked.

“What, sir? Japan is at war?” The admiral nodded. “With who? China?”

“No, Isobe, Japan is at war with the United African Federation.” Yamato blinked this time.

“Excuse me, but the United African Federation? Who are they?”

“The UAF are similar to United States but instead of democracy as their governing tool the UAF use a dictator-socialist method. Close to fascism but not as extreme. Their dictator Jamul Irogod rose to power by gaining the allegiance of other African countries through promise of prosperity, by economic overtaking, or by forcefully erecting himself, much like Hitler did. At first he promised peace, like Hitler, then he did something else, he used Africa’s vast resources to become a superpower. They hurriedly advanced many sciences, such as finding the antivirus serum for AIDS and HIV, developing a combatant for early stage cancers, and finding new building techniques for more stable buildings during earthquakes-something Japan has benefited from greatly-and they have some of the greatest a scientists from around the world there researching their fields. Their domestic production is immense and is one of the highest in the world. Jamul wanted more, just like Hitler. He started expanding into the Middle East to ‘stabilize’ the turmoil but it was an invasion. I’ve said enough and you get the picture so I’m going to cut to the chase, the UAF has declared war on the ‘corrupt’ UN nations. We are part of the UN.” There was a short silence before Yamato put things together.

“So you want me back in service.” The admiral was hesitant to reply.

“Yes. Now we know you have done so much for Japan already, even giving your life for Japan, but we’re asking again. Will you help us?” Yamato cradled her son in her arms and pressed him against her body, ignoring his death grip on her tendril. She still retained the mentality of fulfilling duty no matter what, and her duty was to serve the Emperor and Japan, but at the same time she has a child to feed and nurture, a child to protect. Hisashi was going to take up the call to arms and Yamato knew and accepted that, but what about her son? She could not form an answer, she panicked a little bit. She brought Hisashi to a private corner and asked him. Hisashi had no immediate family alive but he did have a cousin that he regularly talked to while waiting for Yamato. Hisashi knew he had a wife and a daughter, his cousin-in-law was a nice woman, he trusted them with Daichi. He proposed the thought to Yamato, the admiral caught wind of their situation. “My wife said it’d be an honor to watch your child in the time being, if that helps with anything.” Yamato was still afraid to let go of her only son but she knew that if something did happen Daichi would be in great care with Hisashi’s cousin. She hesitantly accepted the call to arms. “Don’t fear, Yamato. Your line of duty won’t put you on the front often; there will be ample time for you to spend with your son. Besides, we still have to outfit you.”

Yamato relieved herself of worry, she and Hisashi continued to care for Daichi while Hisashi’s cousin and his family came down to spend time with Yamato, Hisashi, and Daichi. The day after they reentered the Japanese Navy Yamato was moved into the slip where she was outfitted with her turrets after being raised and her turrets were removed and the museum pieces exhumed from her. Four triple AA turrets from each side were removed and her smokestack cover was taken out. In place of the eight missing triple AA turrets were eight American ‘Sea Whiz’ guns, radar was easily positioned on her and hooked up to a computer and her main gun batteries, in her smokestack were two ballistic missile systems and the smokestack cover was changed to one that opened up. She was obviously filled with ammunition and powder.

“Where did you find all of these extra rounds?” She asked the admiral in astonishment as truck upon truck stopped and unloaded rounds.

“Since you were resurfaced we have been building up arms for your weaponry. Since you sank, actually, people have been keeping you, say, up to date. There have been numerous conception arts put online of you modernized, as a space ship, and even as an aircraft carrier. You’ve been put into various medias, video games, comics, animations. You’re almost considered a pop culture icon. Now the actual modernization may not be what the media is expecting, no rail guns or laser beams, but you will be once again a deadly and fierce adversary.” Yamato did indeed feel like a deadly foe again. Her gun systems were given computer assistance and her new radar array swept far past the horizon, further than her guns could even reach, and her new missiles were a very potent weapon to unleash upon a worthy enemy. Her defenses? Her AA battery was also given an enhanced fire control system and her Sea Whiz guns that were radar guided made a near impenetrable bubble around her. Hisashi’s family arrived the weekend the modifications were completed. They were tired after the long travel and while they were all very much impressed by Yamato but they really just wanted some sleep. Hisashi very excitedly introduced them to Yamato, Mr. and Mrs. Isobe and their daughter Emiko. Emiko was an energetic preteen and after following Hisashi to her bedroom, right next to her parents’ room all officers’ quarters, she followed Hisashi around and talked to Yamato more.

“You look different from the game.” Emiko said looking up at Yamato’s impressive radar array.

“I did have a lot of modern changes.” Yamato was curious about how she looked in the game. “What do I look like in the game?”

“I’ll show you,” she pulled a small laptop and opened it up. She started it up and used a wireless mouse to open up a game. She logged on and a Japanese cruiser came up on the ocean, she clicked around and a grayscale Yamato appeared. Emiko handed the laptop to Yamato and told her how to orbit the digital version of herself. It was the 1945 variant of her, exactly how she looked when she sank. Yamato held the laptop in front of her face with two hands and moved the mouse with a third “looks like you, but without all the new stuff.”

“Yeah,” Yamato was amazed at how nice it looked, even though it lacked color it looked amazing, “it looks exactly like me.”

“I don’t play battleships. I play cruisers.” Yamato was still entranced by her digital self, a mix of both flattering and astonishment filled her. “Click ‘PORT’ and you can see what ships I have.” Yamato did so and color came back as her digital self disappeared. Up came a Mogami cruiser in full colors with the green stripe camouflage. “My best ship is the Mogami, but I think I also have the American Bogue carrier. Those are my top ships. My other countries are still at tier two.” Yamato was this time affixed on looking all around the Mogami, she was astonished at how real it looked.

“Why don’t you have a battleship?” She asked not at all offended, she realized long long ago she was outdated.

“They’re too slow, I like going fast and running around.”

“You know our Kongo battleships were fast. I think they could do thirty knots.”

“That’s fast,” she thought, “yeah they are fast. Not as fast as my Furutaka but fast.”

“You don’t have any destroyers?”

“Not yet, I want to get the Senjo first, and then I’ll get some destroyers.” There was a silence as Yamato switched to the Bogue carrier. Chills shook through her hull. “Do you want to play?” Yamato had absolutely no computer capability. She had been on a tablet before but a computer? Hell no. But she wanted to so bad.

“Yes! How do I play?”

“Well,” Emiko thought, she didn’t want her laptop to be broken out here. She wanted to move it inside, “can you see inside?”

“I can see on the bridge and I can see in Hisashi’s room.” She found Hisashi in his room. “Hisashi!” She exclaimed, “Make yourself appropriate!” Hisashi was already appropriate and the only time she really commanded him like that was when she wanted some naughty fun, usually she commanded ‘Hisashi! Clean the bed off!’ but nope, not this time. He was confused. He instead made Daichi appropriate and soon enough Yamato opened the door and let Emiko in. “Emiko is showing me how to play a game.”

“Well keep it down, Daichi is asleep.” Emiko sat down at the desk and opened the laptop; she rebooted everything and up came the game. The title screen of a movie clip of a dramatic fight between ships caught his eye. “What game is that?”

“World of Warships. It’s a game about warships from the Second World War.”

“Is Yamato in it?”

“I am! Isn’t it exciting? It’s so amazing how realistic it looks!” She exclaimed sharing her feelings about being in a video game. Hisashi softly chuckled, he knew how much media surrounded Yamato, and still he was curious as to the detail they gave her in this game. Emiko signed in and pulled up Yamato again, she turned and saw Daichi.

“Oh he’s so cute! Can I hold him? Please?”

“Sit on the bed so if you get tired you can put him down.” She hopped off the chair and onto the bed and her face gave away that she was not strong enough to hold Daichi for long. Hisashi meanwhile orbited the digital Yamato and was impressed at its detail and beauty. It did look exactly like when they left for Okinawa all those years ago. He got up and picked Daichi off of Emiko’s numb legs. “Heavy, isn’t he?”

“Very heavy.” She popped back into the chair and clicked around. “Yamato what nation do you want to start with?”

“Japan.” Emiko switched to Co-op mode and selected the Japanese tier I she kept for the destroyer line.

“Okay now give me your hands,” Yamato did so, she was taught the basics and then sent into a Co-op game. Yamato could see through the camera she had in the room the screen and everybody watching her, she felt excited and pressured even though it was a game. As she played Daichi woke up but nobody noticed, it wasn’t because the game drowned out his cry but the game captivated him and so he didn’t cry. The flashes of fire and smoke with the splashes and explosions of shots kept him quiet. Hisashi noticed he was staring at the screen with a wide smile on his face; he’d grin and softly giggle when a ship exploded. Once the game ended, Yamato sank a ship and hit four others; Yamato retracted her arms and exclaimed how much fun she had. “Those enemies were just computer programs, the only real people were your allies. If you play in random battles instead of co-op battles then everyone there is a real person. Random battles are much harder.”

“That was pretty loud, is Daichi still asleep?”

“No,” Yamato was about to go comfort Daichi back to sleep, “he loved the show.” Daichi was pointing at the laptop screen and grunting and whining. “I think he wants another.”

“Oh I could play that game all day.”

“We can make you your own profile, that way you can play yours and I can play mine and we can play together.”

“I’ll still be able to play, right?”

“Yes.”

“As long as I can play it!” She picked up Daichi and talked to him. “Don’t worry my little Daichi, you’ll see it soon enough.” Emiko made Yamato her own email account and from there her own profile. Yamato played for a little longer on her own profile and meanwhile thought how she might take Daichi out and show him the power of real life guns she has. “Hisashi, when do we go out for sea trials?”

“Tuesday. Why do you ask?”

“I think Daichi would love to see my guns fire.” Emiko got excited.

“Can I come!?” She begged but Hisashi declared it was up to her parents.

The days passed and Emiko’s parents didn’t mind Emiko staying while Yamato conducted sea trials, Hisashi’s cousin also stayed but his wife did not stay with Yamato, she stayed with the Admiral’s wife not too far from the base. Yamato sailed out off the coast of Okinawa and ended her trip off the coast of Iwo Jima where she woke her guns from their slumber. Emiko and Daichi were in their fathers’ arms and were watching, watching with excited anticipation as the two forward barbettes clunked to life. They all heard the gears grind, the clank-clank-clank of the turrets move, the hum of the six massive guns elevate to the predetermined position. Hisashi leaned over the rail to check on the stern turret, it was in the same position as the other two. Over the loudspeaker they heard the countdown. Yamato could hardly stand it. As soon as the order was given her first turret let its awesome power go. No matter where you were on that ship you felt those guns, the discharge put a heavy thump in your chest, it knocks the wind from your lungs and makes your ribs question their strength. The gun crews for the AA erupted in cheer as the smoke billowed from the three barrels, everyone watches as the three glowing shots hurtled out maybe ten miles, well within her capability, and suddenly drop to the ocean making huge splashes seen easily with the naked eye. As the columns came crashing back down the second battery was discharged. Again it felt like someone punched you square in the chest and knocked the wind from you. Daichi by now was going crazy, he had the biggest smile on his chubby face and was flailing his arms around, bouncing up and down, and laughing up a storm. This set of salvos traveled out to about the edge of the horizon before they dropped from the sky. Again there was cheer, and soon after the third battery fired. Emiko felt sick to her stomach with the concussive wave and sat down. The third battery fired their shots to the maximum range; it disappeared over the horizon and as it did there was a multitude of cheers from the gun crews. Hisashi convinced Emiko to stand back up and watch the smaller batteries fire. They went through their phases, not nearly as impressive as the main batteries, but they proved effective. Yamato had passed her gun qualification. Her ballistic missile launches weren’t as cool, rather uninteresting, but it was the maneuvers they performed in the sky that dazzled Yamato, Hisashi, Emiko, Daichi, and Tadashi (Emiko’s father). They turned for home and merrily chugged home.

Once they arrived home Mrs. Isobe came back aboard and heard, nonstop, all about the voyage. Emiko didn’t leave any details out, she explained the storm, the fisherman paying their respects as Yamato passed, the whales they saw, the gun qualification, the emergency stop and the hard turn around Yamato did, the shipping freighter that contested its lane (it eventually veered off before Yamato and it hit each other) and tug that almost got sucked under Yamato’s stern trying to push her into the slip. Once that was all settled out it was rather uneventful, they heard plenty from combat in the Atlantic and how the U.S. declared itself in a struggle with the UAF, it wasn’t officially war but it technically was. The majority of combat was in the Middle East and the Mediterranean, occasionally the southern cape, but almost none in the Pacific. Yamato hoped that she wouldn’t be needed but at the same time she didn’t want to be for nothing again. Since she had been recommissioned her museum doors had been closed to the public and they sat around, again. But she wasn’t alone; most of Japan’s Navy was the same way. Japan’s carriers were sent to the Atlantic for some reason, it didn’t make sense to anyone, not Yamato, not Hisashi, not even the Admiral. That was until the UAF sent a task force towards Panama. One cold morning Yamato and an escort of four destroyers were called upon. The admiral smiled once he finished reading the orders. He walked onto the bridge with a huge smirk on his face.

“What’s our mission, sir?” She asked she had just waved off Daichi and the Isobes when he stepped on deck.

“The higher-ups want to disgrace the UAF Navy.”

“How’s that, sir?”

“It was discovered that the UAF are planning to use a small detachment of destroyers and troop transports to seize the Panama Canal. Essentially cutting off the Pacific from the Atlantic. I figured out why we sent our carrier over, we were baiting them to move on Panama while everyone’s carriers were in the Atlantic.” Yamato put it together.

“They set this up for me.”

“Exactly.” They both smiled and when Yamato told Hisashi he smiled. The task force made haste to intercept the UAFN just off of Midway. The UAFN already had a good start on them but storms set them back, and Yamato’s force arrived early, the trap was set and Yamato would finally be the spearhead. The UAFN was only a day late; Yamato picked them up on her radar and felt their presence. There were six targets, all moderate size just a bit bigger than the Japanese destroyers and just as fast. She aligned her guns as the all call rang out, the five Japanese ships all coordinated their attacks and exactly 1150 hours eight missiles launched two from each destroyer. Yamato watched as the destroyer missile hatches flung open as smoke flooded the decks, a long black rod came from each of the open hatches followed by a bright streak and more smoke, as she thought about how much cooler that looked than her missile launches the eight powerful missiles soared toward their targets. Yamato tracked their impressive speed and all of a sudden they vanished off of her radar.

“No hit, no hit, no hit.” Another volley met with the same fate, no hits. Suddenly the six targets turned to twelve and then eighteen as they retaliated. Yamato watched in terror as the twelve missiles zoomed to their positions; she had just gotten them into view when her four Sea Whiz guns moved without her command. They revved to life and like a Zero’s engine they zipped and zipped, all of the Japanese ships zipped and zipped. A wall of lead formed and hit each missile on the button. Yamato wished she had those seventy-something years ago and awaited orders.

“Hold fire, hold fire. We can’t do anything to each other.” The UAFN must have thought the same thing because no more missiles came their way. “Load the guns. High Explosive.” Yamato felt a huge smile creep across her face as the command was echoed throughout the fleet. She felt all the intricate mechanics at work, she felt the breaches lock and she moved her guns to fire right as they came into range. Her destroyer escorts also had their guns ready, she knew that they would be ready, she knew everyone was ready. Hisashi stood with her in what this will be their finest hour. She kept the Admiral informed.

“Targets will be in range in three minutes, sir.” She couldn’t wait, she trained the guns onto the lead ship and waited for the command to fire. She waited for an eternity. “Sir the targets are in range.” She waited for the order.

“Hold fire.” Yamato couldn’t believe it.

“What, sir!?”

“Hold fire. At that range the shot will spread too much. I want a swift victory, so wait until they are in spotting distance before firing.” Yamato scowled. She had all of this capability and it was essentially useless. She tracked each one; she tracked their movements and patterns. After an agonizing time the first destroyer crept over the horizon. “Fire away.” Her guns instantly rang out in a broadside and the whole Japanese fleet felt the guns as the one-and-a-half ton shots soared at two-thousand and six-hundred feet per second. The shots kept their grouping tight and when they dropped from the sky they came crashing down with immense force, enough that the lead destroyer that was hit was almost completely obliterated. The HE shots pierced through the thin armor and their explosive charges ripped the hull apart sending all sorts of things into the sky. As what remains of the destroyer sank the three shots that hit their mark showed just how potent and dangerous Yamato really was. Instantly the five other destroyers took evasive actions, they were going to be tricky to hit. Their maneuvers slowed their approach but it worked. When Yamato’s guns reloaded she fired on the coordinates the computer gave her and the shots hit their marks every time, give or take about five meters but that didn’t matter, the destroyers changed direction before they could get there. Her shots were on point but the destroyers were too evasive. She grew extremely frustrated. She went with her gut on one battery and knocked out a destroyer’s bridge, the other two shots that she fired in spite barely missed the deck gun and the antenna tower. Smoke and fire flowed from the bridge as its controls were lost and it soon drifted into range for the allied destroyers to use their main guns. There were four left and by now they had drawn within the secondary battery’s range and Yamato’s six inch guns were firing as fast as possible and soon the AA five inch guns were firing flak at it to shred anyone outside and the bridge. One destroyer was hit and set afire as it tried to make a torpedo run, the admiral ordered a hard turn as it lined up but Yamato was 78,808 tons, she was nowhere near nimble; she would have to take the blow. No torpedoes came but instead volley upon volley of their main deck guns. Japanese destroyers broke formation and paired up to pick off one destroyer each pair, leaving Yamato with an injured one and a healthy one. The injured one refused to give up a torpedo run and got so close that the AA triple turrets fired rounds at the windows of it. Yamato saw the torpedo tubes moving and felt the urge to fire her main battery. She obeyed her instinct and Hisashi screaming over the gunfire for her to shoot him and all two hit him center mass. The shots were low in the hull and the explosions broke the destroyer in half with it bucking up to the sky. Yamato shifted her attention to the destroyer making a B-line to her flank. Suddenly she felt something along her side where her stern barbette was, she looked and Hisashi confirmed that it was a submarine! She couldn’t believe it, suddenly hatches on the deck opened and out shot grappling cables and hooks that quickly entangled themselves around her railing, the sub became magnetically attached to her and armed men began ascending the ropes. AA gun crews quickly sent messages up the chain and the on board Marine force was scrambled. The marine force was going to be well out numbered she saw. Her guns were reloaded just as the first attacker reached the deck; she dropped those three guns and fired all three into the ocean. The concussive blast knocked them against her hull and off the rope and caused internal bleeding, they either fell and drowned or fell sprawled onto the deck of the sub while they all were bleeding from the ears and screaming with tremendous pain. She felt the same thing on her other side, the Marines were ordered to spread over to the other side but it’d be too late. The exposed men on that side drew their side arms and waited, Yamato refused to let them be out gunned and moved the AA triple turrets to lie in wait for them. The attackers climbed up and over right into a hailstorm of .98 inch gunfire and small handgun rounds. They halted and called in for the destroyer to do something about the guns, the destroyer answered by shooting a six inch round into Yamato’s AA assortment, which killed many men and crippled at least three turrets, another round finished off the other two turrets available. She had been moving her stern turret over to subdue the attackers permanently but it was too late, they had rushed over and were swarming the uninjured AA gunners. The Marines busted trough the hatch frame and instantly started firing at the attackers. They were too close for the destroyer to do anything, so close that melee combat sparked up. Yamato did her best to grab attackers and either chuck them over or snap their necks or both. The attackers used high explosive grenade launchers to set small fires along the AA battery, further insuring they wouldn’t be a problem. Just then Yamato grabbed every Marine she could and dragged them back away from the attackers as her stern turret fired its shots, the crippling ear and internal bleeding affected very few attackers but at least it did something. Two Japanese destroyers came around and fired at the enemy destroyer to drive it away. It defiantly launched three torpedoes at Yamato; she turned hard and hoped for the best. Two would be unavoidable and she braced for the shock. Instead one torpedo slammed into the attached sub assault transport and the other one glanced off of that and further glanced off of Yamato. She was extremely relieved and giddy when the fleeing destroyer fired upon Yamato as much as possible. The other destroyers ceased their pursuit under the admiral’s orders.

“Why, sir?”

“Let them run.” There was a tense pause as he lit his tobacco. “They’ll only die tired.” With that Yamato tracked its movements and fired a full on broadside. The computer assistance paid off and five of the nine shots hit. The destroyer was entirely decimated. The UAFN must have sent out a retreat because once the destroyer slipped beneath the waves the UAF Marines returned to their grappling equipment and quickly slid down back to their boarding submarine still operable. Once no more Marines returned and the Japanese Marines flooded the rail shorting down at them the UAF disconnected and quickly dove deep enough to evade the destroyers.

“Sonar picking up anything?” The Admiral demanded to know. The radio operator reported that none of the destroyers were picking up the sub. He was about to order the Marines to go down and investigate the sub still attached to Yamato when it suddenly exploded into bits and fell from Yamato’s hull. “Damn, they scuttled.” After a report on the mission they received immediate orders to return to Japan. No reason stated.

“Hisashi did you get it all?” Hisashi was hooking up his camera to the computer they bought.

“I tried but there was so much going on I couldn’t catch it all.”

“Cut out any blood, Daichi doesn’t need to see that.” Hisashi started uploading the footage to the computer before he finally relaxed.

“I tried not to record the bloodshed but there’s a few bits where I slipped. He’s going to love the big explosions.” Yamato agreed. “You alright, dear?”

“A few embers, destroyed guns and scorch marks. I’m alright otherwise. No hull breaches.” She was quiet before the headcount call rang out. “We lost a lot of people. Maybe fifty.”

Her guess was close, only one off. Yamato’s crew endured forty-nine casualties: sixteen dead and the rest wounded. The Japanese picked out fifty-three UAF survivors, the immense fire power of Yamato killed the other three-hundred or so that manned the three she killed. The UAF survivors were mostly from the destroyers’ kills, and they ranged from many ethnicities. One thing that still shocked Yamato was the vast amount of racial acceptance, something that the generation of her time never truly thought possible. It boggled and inspired her mind. While the inter species lovers thought that there was a great death toll in their battle what news was waiting back in Japan would change the world forever like nothing before seen.

Fin Yamato II

The East

by

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

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

Fin The East

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

Undertale Mechanophilia

by

This is some Undertale fandom. Since Ratbat posted that picture of Tsunderplane I couldn’t get that game out of my head. Now I know that there’s already a butt-load of fandom around Undertale already but I thought I’d put my own twist on it. This isn’t about Tsunderplane, sorry, no this is about her and (Bakka) Frisk’s daughter and her boyfriend. BTW, Frisk is named Bakka Frisk because all the pictures I see of Tsunderplane refer to frisk as “B-Bakka”. IDK what Bakka means so if anyone could enlighten me that would be helpful. Also, Tsunderplane adopted the name Enda, meaning Eagle or free spirit in Ireland and there is a big emphasis on Ireland because that is where theories say Undertale takes place.

Enjoy!

Barry entered the empty flight terminal at Norfolk International Airport and sat down in one of the chairs. He took a big sigh and looked at his wrist watch; his flight was delayed by three hours. Three hours. He looked at his carry-on bag and reviewed all the stamps he had on it, he was admiring a very reflective one from Baghdad Iran when the distorted reflection of a person sat down next to him. It looked very distorted and it made Barry question what was next to him. He looked to his right and saw it wasn’t much distorted at all. The person next to him was a chair away and had a long and aerodynamic nose that was paper white in skin and had a black nose cone and a tinted glass visor around their green eyes. Their whole skin was reflective and shiny. They had black spots running down their neck and wore an awkward back pack on them; Barry knew they were a runway hand because of the thick leather uniform and reflective yellow jacket. They pulled out a sandwich and started eating from a mouth under the eyes.

“I’m sorry, but are you a humorph?” He’d heard of them but never met one. The person looked to him and nodded.

“I am, why?” The person was female and had quite a soothing voice. She took a bite of her sandwich.

“Your nose, and skin, and eyes. Are you a plane?”

“I guess.” She shrugged. She swallowed her bite and continued. “I obviously can’t really carry things, much less a person.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“Once. I tried to carry my dad.”

“So your mom is the plane?” She was about to say something then changed her mind.

“I’m sorry but who are you?” She asked.

“Sorry, my name is Barry, Barry McLock.”

“Mine’s Cliona. Cliona Frisk.”

“You’re Irish too?”

“Both sides.” Barry tried to think of what planes the Irish made.

“So what are you a mix of? Human and what?”

“My mom is a plane; she’s an Airbus A three-eighty.”

“Well my dad’s dead and my mom’s a drunk.” Cliona chuckled.

“So is your mom the Irish side?”

“No, my father. My mother’s Hispanic.”

“That explains why you’re so tan.” She checked him out; he was pretty handsome and had nice black curly hair and deep brown eyes. He saw this and thought she was a nice gal, so he decided to try dating her for a while.

“Why do you eat here?” She looked at her sandwich.

“It’s nicer here than in the break room, the break room is dark and smells bad.” Barry nodded. “It’s obvious what I do, what do you do?”

“I’m a health inspector for pet food companies. I travel a lot to lots of places-”

“I see.” She nodded towards his bag.

“Yeah that’s kind of obvious. Hey it’s also obvious that you live in the area, I do, too, and I’d like to ask if you’d like to get a cup of coffee sometime next week?” Cliona thought about his offer.

“Like a date?” Barry shook his head no. “Well meet me at the Wawa by Merry Grounds apartments at seven on Saturday and you’ve got yourself a date.” She got up and finished her sandwich as she walked away.

“Wait! Where are your wings?” She opened a latch on that back pack and unfolded her wings to their impressive wingspan before she folded them up again and redid the back pack.

The next Saturday Barry waited at the Wawa by the Merry Grounds Apartments at six-forty-five in the morning until Cliona arrived at seven exactly. She looked beautiful, she wore a Pink bonnet-style hat on her head with the chin straps tied into a big bow on the top and a yellow tank shirt with mid-calf blue jeans and ankle cut white sneakers. Barry saw that she had her wings outstretched and had little ailerons on her forearms and calves. He also saw that she had breasts and quite a nice and curvy body. She spotted him and walked over with a smile.

“Hey you’re actually here!”

“I am, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well most guys that try to date me wouldn’t even show up to the first date.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

“It’s depressing. So are you going to get anything?” Barry thought, usually he made his own coffee and never got his coffee anywhere else.

“Yeah, I’ll think of something, maybe.”

“I’m going to go get my coffee.” She got up and went to the counter, waved hello and nodded when the clerk said something. While she did that Barry saw that the shirt went down her back, he was confused how this worked. She came back with an iced cup of black coffee and was mixing in the creamer.

“How do you get your shirt on?” She giggled as she sipped her coffee.

“I know, my wings. I don’t wear normal shirts, I mean they once were normal shirts but then I cut the sides and I sew in buttons to close the shirt. Now I have these holes in my shirt for the wings.” She showed him the seam, it was stitched over so it wouldn’t run or snag and tear. They then talked about their work, Cliona worked from eight to five and Barry worked at the office about the same time but because of his work he could be away from home for days or on the computer at home all night. Once the work talk was done they talked about sports, they both had a love for football and a hatred of tennis. They didn’t know why but tennis was the worst sport in existence. “Well I gotta go to work now, Barry. It was nice seeing meeting you here. I had a good time.” She stood up as he did and they hugged goodbye.

“I had a good time, too.” She backed off and kissed him on his nose. She was a few inches shorter than Barry, only coming up to his nose. “What was that?”

“A kiss, we’re dating.” She walked away and few off when she was outside. Barry watched in awe as she flew away, she looked so beautiful flying away like she was. He gathered his things and her phone number, she instructed him to call her at about eight that night to make another date. So he went home to his house isolated deeper inland and cleaned house after five days away. He used to have a roommate but he found a job in Maryland and moved out, now it was just Barry to his two-room nineteen-eighty house. He thought about what they should do for their next date and came up with having dinner at his house, with him cooking her some good old home cooked food.

After her shift ended Cliona stripped off her work uniform and showered then dressed back into her casual clothes, gathered her work uniform in a backpack, and walked outside. As she walked outside she thought about Barry, he was already better than every other guy who saw how exotic she was and tried her. He was interesting and interested in her, she really hoped he was a keeper; she had grown quite tired of dates not showing up. She got into the employee parking and warmed up her engines, checked her things, jumped up and boosted her engines to fly herself home. She never needed a car or bike or even a longboard, she flies everywhere.

She got home about ten minutes later. She lived in the Merry Grounds Apartments so the only place to land herself would be the parking lot. She landed herself and cooled her engines off before she walked up the flight of stairs to her third floor apartment. She sat on the couch for a while before she got up and made herself microwave dinner. She got everything ready when Barry called exactly at eight. She greeted him happily and they talked like they did at the coffee shop, openly. Barry invited her to dinner the following night, Cliona wasn’t sure but looked at what she was eating then and decided that real food would be great. They agreed that she would meet him at his house tomorrow night at seven, he gave her his address and when they got off the phone she google mapped it. She got a good look at what the roof looked like, shape of the house and where the roads were and what direction it was in.

The next morning Barry thought of what to make her for dinner. He first thought of things that everyone would like, like tacos and quesadillas but he wanted to really impress her while introducing her to his culture. His culture was mostly Mexican-Hispanic with Americanized Irish in the mix. He wanted to present this to her but wasn’t sure how. He knew how he would present the Americanized Irishman with Mexican influence; steamed potato seasoned with pepper, but not his overriding Mexican culture. He decided on chicken enchiladas with a side of quesadillas. He started cooking the meal and made everything look nice and while the meal was cooking he set the table, tidied up a little bit, and finished the meal. After everything was cooked he put it in the oven to keep warm while he showered and dressed nicely. He took everything out and put it on the table just as there was a knock at his door. He went to the door and greeted Cliona at the door.

“Would you like a tour before or after dinner?”

“Let’s do it now, I still have to cool off.” He gave her a look around of his house, the bedrooms were on opposite sides of the house with the second bedroom sharing its bathroom with the hallway and the hallway connected the bedroom, bathroom, closet and garage. The master bedroom opened up to the living room which was situated in the middle of the house with the kitchen and dining room next to the master bedroom. The master bedroom had a bathroom connected to it. He had a back patio deck that opened up to a spacious backyard that formed into a tree line. “I like it. Here’s a description of my place: you walk in to the living room, on the right is the bathroom and balcony, front-left is the kitchen, left is the dining corner, and front is the bedroom where if you turn left in there you see the master bathroom. Other than the walk-in closet that’s it.” With their home layouts squared out they sat down for dinner, Barry sat Cliona before he sat himself, that impressed Cliona a lot. They started eating, beginning with the quesadillas before they had some of the potatoes and enchiladas. Cliona enjoyed the food greatly and they came closer together. They would do these dine-ins almost every night, and when the weather was bad Barry would let Cliona stay in the second bedroom until morning if she had to. That was few and far between, however, and because she had no car and didn’t need to open any gates she gave Barry the ID card to get into the complex. They saw movies together, too, when they started she would fold her wings around herself like Dracula did his cape, but eventually they would hold each other and she’d wrap her wing around him. The engine nauticals were uncomfortable at first but he soon fell into the groove. They grew more and more upon each other and everything just seemed to click, that was all fine and dandy and the scheduled had formed when hurricane season hit. Hurricane Tilda formed late in the season and was on course to Virginia, their state, and living relatively close to the coast proved to be dangerous. Cliona was working overtime to help move the surge in flights out while Barry worked to set himself up to not be present at work during the hurricane. Soon the airport closed and Barry had clocked out after the preparations were finished and Barry and Cliona were on the phone talking about what to do.

“I don’t feel safe, here Barry, I can hear my neighbors twenty-four seven. I don’t know what to do, Barry!” Barry thought.

“My house is sound; it’s already been through a few hurricanes. You could come here and stay with me; I’d feel better if you were here.” Cliona thought, it was better than where she was and she didn’t really have anywhere else to go.

“I’ll stay with you, Barry. Thank you so much!”

“You’re very welcome, now get your possessions and fly over here as soon as possible.” She did exactly that, folded her clothes, gather a few prized possessions like her mob cap bonnet she always wore, and flew to Barry’s house. She let herself in with her key and organized her things in the spare room, she had just finished when Barry got home from more grocery shopping. He had gotten more canned goods and some gas for his little single-spot gas cooker. They set up the home for the hurricane and they were ready when it hit. The power lines were hit and they used candles to light up select rooms like the kitchen and hallway and a bedroom, they tried to stay out of the living room because of glass door. The night the hurricane was strongest they were lying in Cliona’s bed watching a horror movie on a battery powered T.V. set.

“Hey Barry do we have any more chicken noodle soup?”

“Yeah I think so. I’ll go warm some up.”

“Thanks babe.” She let him go make the soup. She thought about them together; they have been together for about three months and they’ve never done it. She looked around the room, there were candles strewn about. It was somewhat romantic, but there was a mix of smells such as roses, the beach, wax, smoke and febreze all into one because of the candles. She thought it was time that they move on to the next base. She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off, undid her hammock bra and took off her running shorts and put them away, no body but Barry was around, and she sat on the edge of the bed naked and waited.

Barry dug through the shelf of soups and found a can of chicken noodle; he thought how bland and staple chicken noodle soup was as he ignited the single stove-top burner. He put the can right on the burner and waited for it to boil, and then he started the timer for a few minutes. As he waited he looked outside, nothing but gray and dark shapes being flung around, the oak tree in his front yard looked as if a giant were stepping on it that’s how badly it was bent. “Damn Tilda, don’t break my trees.” He went to the garage to check it and as he passed by the bedroom door he heard Cliona opening and closing drawers but thought little of it. He checked the garage; everything was fine except for a long puddle of water seeping under the old rolling garage door. He heard the timer ding and he rushed back to check the soup, he took it off and poured it into a china bowl; the bowl soon grew too hot to hold so he put it on a tray and carried it to the bedroom. He nudged the door handle with his forearm and slowly opened the door with his elbow. He was watching the soup as so not to spill it and when he looked up Cliona was sitting on the edge of the bed naked and blushing under her eyes. “Oh! I’m sorry! I’ll-”

“No, no! Stop,” she called as he turned around, “I think we should do this.” He looked at her again, she was even shapelier than before and the candle light flickered over her beautiful body illuminating every aspect in orange light. She indeed had breasts but no prominent nipples, she had thicker body parts where there was no movement like the thighs and calves but she had a thinner profile at the joints like she was wearing a suit of armor but her abdomen wasn’t covered in any plating. She was white from head to toe spare her eyes and windows and nose. She had her legs crossed at the calves and her hands in between her legs.

 

“You mean, having sex?” She nodded and blushed even more. Barry put the tray down on the dresser and closed the door. He started taking off his clothes for Cliona to watch with admiring eyes. When she blushes her visor window darkens and hides her eyes, while she watched him strip naked it darkened to pure black; even still she could see every detail. He was much more muscular than the clothes he wore said and much hairier than she gave him credit; he must have kept his face well shaven. She saw a large bulge in his underwear as his pants came off and this made her heart race. Her mind raced as well, how big is he? Will it hurt? How hard is it? Is he circumcised? Will it fit? Her heart and body said they weren’t ready but Cliona wanted it, she knew the time was right, but she only hoped that Barry was ready. He dropped his underwear to his ankles and took off his socks with the boxers. His cock sprung up into position like a diving board, Cliona wanted it, she wanted it deep, she wanted it hard, and she wanted him. He walked to her and sat next to her, they leaned in and kissed. They were kissing while his left hand slowly glided down to her crotch then onto her vagina. He rubbed her clit, circling her bulb and stroking around her soft warm lips. She moved her right hand to his cock, she wrapped her fingers around his shaft and felt how hard and warm it was. She moved her hand up and down the shaft, going over his head and down to his base. He was so hard; she rubbed her thumb over the malleable head and gripped his shaft. Once she was nice and wet and hot Barry removed his hand, she did the same, and Barry put his left arm under her legs and his right arm around her wing and on her back. He used all of his strength to pick her up and lay her on the bed, being that she’s a dense collection of mostly metal. He laid on top of her, letting her spread her wings on the bed. She grabbed his wrists and moved his hands to her wing mount where it meets her back.

“It’s okay, it won’t hurt.” She brought his body close to hers. “Please be gentle.” They kissed again.

“I won’t hurt you.” He leaned back and held his cock, he placed his head against her lips and moved it up and down, she moaned during this, until he found her virgin hole. It was so small compared to his cock, he pushed against it until it had wrapped around the head. Cliona was panting and moaning already, he slowly went deeper, lying on her body as he did so, until they were chest to chest and the majority of him was inside her. She muttered to him ‘so big, so big’ until he kissed her again. She was very tight, sliding in was a struggle well worth the effort; her walls clasped his cock and held him tight while her hot fluids warmed him and gave him an unbelievable feeling that flowed through his body. Her arms wrapped around him, not letting him leave her now. She was feeling just how big he really was, his massive size pushed his way inside, making itself known to her in all the right ways. His rock hard cock plugged her good and the added pressure gave her indescribable ecstasy and overcame her, she wasn’t sure what an orgasm felt like, but so far she wanted more. She made out with him while she slowly adjusted to his impressive size, at first his penetration hurt her but she liked it, and the pain that his hands put on her wing mounts stimulated her hormones. She knocked him down where his elbows were on her wings and his forearms traveled up her wings, they made out more intensely until she pulled back and whispered.

“Could we go nice and slow?” Barry nodded and kissed her again. He pulled out of the kiss then slowly out of her, drawing moans and groans as he left. He paused at his head and pushed in again, moving her heavenly pillowy insides around his cock until he could push in no more, where he paused and eased out again. It took him three seconds to go in, and three seconds to exit, pausing for a second on each end for seven or eight seconds per hump. The couple was mesmerized into bliss; their bodies continually relayed their brains with stimulus of dopamine and ecstasy. Their skins ground against the other, giving the other a feeling of comfort and companionship while exciting their minds and genitals. Barry felt Cliona’s breasts against his chest and how tender they really were yet how much they wanted to retain their protruding shape, it was a very interesting feeling. The feeling that Cliona felt as Barry ground her body was amazing; he excited her whole body with his touch and tingled her breasts as they moved around his movements, enhancing her sexual pleasure. This continued for the entire duration of sex they had, ten minutes, before the rising feeling inside Barry almost climaxed and he rushed out and came on her crotch. She felt his hot flops shoot onto her body, the highest point falling just below her belly button indent. She was panting and regaining her senses when she wondered if she finished or not; Barry knew she had not. He laid down next to her and used his left hand to fondle her clit again while his right moved her left hand to her left breast before he moved his right hand to her right breast. He fondled and groped her genitals, escalating Cliona’s orgasm until it had been fulfilled. Her head had started rocking up and down until her abdomen arched up and she came, moaning and panting and breathing rapidly. She turned her head over and they kissed as she calmed down. Once that was done they rolled over, Cliona wrapped her wings around her body and Barry wrapped his arms around her and they turned the movie back on. After a few minutes they spoke again.

“Babe your soup is cold.”

“I know. I don’t care.” He kissed her hat then got up and gave it to her; she put it below one of her engines and heated it up with her engine before she shared it with him. They finished the movie and stayed locked together; listening to the storm vent it’s fury upon the world. “You know this means we have to meet the parents, right?”

“Yup, where’s yours?”

“Ireland.”

“Damn.” After the hurricane two days later they got dressed (they never bothered to put clothes on otherwise) and ventured outside. The tree in the front yard didn’t completely fall but many of its limbs had been ripped off. They went to Cliona’s apartments and learned that the whole complex had water damage, Cliona’s specific apartment had wet carpets but that was the worst. After that incident they were compelled to move in to Barry’s house, Cliona didn’t mind the extra flight time to work, it was close to the town, and the neighborhood was nice. “Are you sure we should move into sleeping in the same room so fast?”

“We walked around the house naked and had sex for three nights straight, we were fine then and we’ll be fine now.”  She helped him move her queen bed across the house and into his room and put the beds together for a massive bed. They moved most of her furniture over, four wooden chairs, a computer chair, a table, the T.V. and DVD player and her computer. The rest was donated to Goodwill. They resumed their jobs that Monday and soon things were back to normal, except for the occasional sex, and things were running smoothly. One day after work Barry got home late Cliona was on the phone talking to someone, she wouldn’t tell Barry, and instead she said it was a surprise. “Yes I’m still there. … Yes! … Oh, that would be perfect! … I will-I will! … If you can even get in by then-I mean you know how the process is. … I swear, I swear. Yes I told you! … Oh, no, I promise. I promise. I’ll shape ’em up. … Bye!”

They agreed to go to Ireland the next week for the majority of the week and they started packing three days before and finished the night before. They slept uneasy, dreaming of Ireland and meeting the parents while their restlessness woke them randomly in the night. When morning came Barry did his usual flight routine; make an extra-large coffee, grab his two bags of a carry on and a baggage suit case, lock up the house and turn on a few lights. Cliona didn’t do her usual routine for going to the airport; she usually works there and rather dressed appropriate, bags her work clothes if she brought them home to wash, makes a lunch, and would stop for a cup of coffee before getting to work. This wasn’t normal for her and she was in chaos. She was scrambling around making sure she had everything, she went through her bags looking for the shoes already on her feet and she kept fidgeting with her hammock bra. Her bra is exactly as it sounds: a hammock that cups her breasts and the majority of the support straps goes around her neck and is kept apart by straps around her shoulders and under her arm pits. Barry watched her do all this and chuckled at it. As she toyed with her bra under her shirt she must have peaked in anxiety because she threw off her shirt and tried to visually set her bra. Barry walked over and took it off then put it back on her the way she puts it on, carefully fixing her problem.

“Calm down, honey. It’ll all be fine; I’ll make sure we don’t leave anything behind. Where do you want to stop for coffee?” She hugged him for comfort; he held her shoulders and rocked her side to side, calming her down.

“Can we stop at the Wawa?”

“Yes, now get your shirt back on and grab your bags. I’ll finish the rest.” She kissed him and put her shirt on, grabbed her three little bags (she can’t fly with big baggage and had no use for it) and put them in the trunk of the car. Barry fulfilled his promise and they got everything together and got her coffee. They then moved on to the airport and waited, Cliona grew more excited every minute, and she kept looking out the window and back at Barry with a smile. About an hour before boarding an Airbus 380 taxied into the terminal and docked, Cliona looked back at Barry with the biggest smile yet. “Is that what your mom looks like?” She nodded. “Why are you so excited? We have an hour before we board and another eight and a half hours before we even land in Ireland.”

“You’ll see, baby. Just you wait.” She grabbed his arm and held it tight in her grip. She uncrossed her legs and scooted into his side, her excitement excited him, and soon he couldn’t wait to board, either. They boarded and Cliona took him to the front of the plane, first class, and right behind the cockpit. She sat in the window and Barry in the aisle seat; she crossed her legs but still bounced in excitement. That wicked smile of hers appeared again, she rubbed his arm passionately. The pilot walked by and into the cockpit while Cliona watched him vigorously; soon he appeared again with a headset and stopped by them.

“Welcome aboard. Hi Cliona dear, is this him?” She nodded; Barry looked at him in surprise.

“Surprise, babe.”

“I’m Bakka, Cliona’s father.” He shook Barry’s hand with a firm grip and smiled at him. He turned the earpieces towards Barry.

“And I’m her mother.” A voice came through the headset. They talked until it was time for takeoff and after takeoff and the flight trajectory set Barry came out with his headset and a smaller one. Cliona gasped when she saw it.

“You still have it!?” Bakka chuckled and put the headset between them. “Hi mom!”

“Hey there sweetie!” The plane’s arms hugged Cliona.

“We’re sitting in my wife and Cliona’s mom, she’s Enda, but her old but fitting name is Tsunderplane.” They talked for a time before Bakka went back into the cockpit but he’d pop out again to talk to them. Enda talked to them mostly, and she was a little resistant to Barry. Little really was an understatement. Bakka would tell Barry not to worry about it, how she always does this to anyone but himself and Cliona but Barry still couldn’t help but take it to heart. They talked about their pasts, how Cliona grew up flying but flying in Enda so she really didn’t have a stable home, except for the hanger they had in Ireland they would use when Enda was off work or getting repairs.

They touched down in the afternoon and they hung out on Enda until she was relieved into her hanger. They spent the majority of the remaining sunlight talking more. Enda begged Cliona to work in Ireland but Cliona declined, she wanted to work in America where there was more to offer her. “Besides, I wouldn’t have met Barry,” She said, “and you guys like him.”

“Not really.” Enda said, she was putting on her pink mob cap bonnet that looked just like Cliona’s. Barry guessed that’s who gave the bonnet to Cliona. Barry and Cliona went to their hotel at dusk, after Bakka and Enda begged them to stay at their place. They arrived at their room after they ate dinner and they instantly laid down on the bed and turned on the television. Cliona got up after a rerun episode of Sherlock ended and went to the bathroom. She instantly came back out with a wide smile.

“Hey baby, come take a bath with me.” She said seductively, beckoning him with her index finger and a seductive look. Barry wanted it, but was comfy where he was. He groaned in displeasure as he rolled out of the bed. He was halfway to the bathroom with a stiffy in his pants when something dawned on him.

“Wait, babe, can you take a bath?”

“Yes! What kind of question is that?”

“Well your engines.., and being metal.”

“No, babe, I used to swim in the ocean with my dad. I’ll be fine. If I were you I’d be more worried about the rough seas.” He continued on, undressing and putting on the condom he keeps around. He entered the bathroom as she was slipping into a large bathtub lined with working bubblers; she glared at him with a begging face. “Come on in, the water’s nice..,” her wings were pressed against the tub walls and her back was against the wall while she was on her knees in the water, making room for Barry. He stepped in and sat down in the warm bubbly water. She moved towards him, grabbing his cock as she saddled him. She rubbed his head against her lips until it caught her hole, she moved down on it as they moaned. They had nice and easy sex in the tub until their ejaculation had seeped into the water. It was then that they got out, dried each other off, groomed themselves and went to bed cuddling. They spent the remainder of their time with Cliona’s family; they tried convincing her day after day to move back to Ireland, and tried to get Barry to move over as well. He respectively declined because his company had no representation in Ireland, and he knew he would eventually need to care for his recovering mother. Enda still rubbed Barry around but Cliona kept telling him she liked him and how she wasn’t like that with her last boyfriend, whom neither of Cliona’s parents liked. Even Bakka said it meant Enda liked him but Barry still felt excommunicated by her, which is until the last day when she openly admitted she would love to have him as her son-in-law. Enda and Barry packed them on board and flew them to America with a load of passengers and they went back to their usual schedule. Two months went by and Barry still couldn’t get Enda’s words out of his head. “I’ll admit it, I would love to have you as my son-in-law.”

“When am I going to meet your mom?” Cliona asked every Thursday, almost as if she imbedded it into her routine for the day.

“When she’s fully recovered. Until then I’m not letting you near my drunk mother.” And he’d tell his mom that, “mom you won’t meet her until you drop booze.” She’d respond with some drunken slur but would promise to stop drinking. It wasn’t until her liver failed, like Barry’s father’s, did she push herself to stop. When she had been nearly four months sober Barry took Cliona to meet his mom.

“Why didn’t you let me see her when she was drinking? My parents drank regularly, I mean, we’re Irish! It’s our culture!”

“Oh I know that, but she’s an abusive drunk. I don’t want her to hit you.” Cliona shrugged. When they got to Mrs. McLock’s house she was pleasantly surprised.

“Bear you never told me she was a machine.”

“I never told you anything.”

“Nice to finally meet you miss McLock.” Mrs. McLock was a short and heavy woman; she had excellently maintained black hair and black rimmed glasses that enlarged her brown eyes. Her face had started to wrinkle and it made her look like a stereotypical Hispanic grandma. Right down to the colorful green and red beads that clipped to her glasses and looped behind her neck. She had a purple sundress on with red and yellow flowers on it. She hobbled up to Cliona with open arms.

“Good to meet you, too, dear.” She leaned in to Cliona, she leaned in too and awkwardly hugged her. “One thing we always do is hug, dear.” They talked on and on, when the ‘booze’ came around Mrs. McLock told Barry to dig up her stash from the backyard and take it away. As Barry went to do that Mrs. McLock talked to Cliona. “So how old are you, dear?”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Oooo!” She started muttering to herself. “Forty-eight minus twenty-five, yup, that’s twenty-three.” She engaged Cliona again in conversation. “So were you born during or after The Event?” Cliona was puzzled.

“De-cemb-er? Why?”

“Yup, you were born after The Event. Your parents come together after it?”

“Excuse me, but- what is The Event?” A look of shock overcame Mrs. McLock.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Cliona shook her head. “Barry knows, he learned in school, wh-why don’t you know? It’s the whole reason why you can do what you do. You see, thirty years ago you wouldn’t be working, maybe not even exist the way you are. Machine people were once nowhere to be found, they hid amongst us. It was The Event that showed you all to the world; it was because of the machine people that Earth stood a chance against extinction. While there are groups of radicals that hate machine people, the general populous pays no mind to your kind. But be careful, the world is filled with terrible people, they want to do others harm, dear.” Cliona nodded and she was amazed, her parents never mentioned it to her once. They only talked about how her father let open the underworld and how the monsters were brought to the surface again. From there they said that the humans got accustomed to the monsters.

Barry came back inside with a bottle of tequila and a bottle of whiskey. They wrapped up the visit and left for home, on their way they stopped for coffee. While they were there Cliona asked about what Barry learned about The Event. He told her everything he knew. Afterwords they went home, Cliona felt left out on the way because she never learned of The Event. Barry eventually cheered her up. A week later Barry proposed to Cliona, she was overwhelmed at the time and couldn’t pronounce yes but could most certainly leap into Barry’s arms crying in joy. They were married in Ireland, Bakka and Enda were there and so was Mrs. McLock and a picture of Mr. McLock. Because it was in Ireland none of their friends were able to attend but they were there online.

Their honeymoon was in Northern Ireland overlooking the cliffs to the Arctic Ocean. On their first night they made love in the moonlight, on their second night the winds kept them inside so to set the scene they lit candles, the same candles from way back when they first made love. Instead of starting out with some fondling by their hands Cliona started with a blow job on Barry. She sat him on the bed and dove to his lap, licking his shaft to the base of the head then the base of the shaft; she circled around his head with her tongue before deep throating his cock. Her soft pallet in the roof of her mouth tenderly rubbed on Barry’s head, soothingly stimulating him while her tongue flicked at his Gspot at the bottom point of the helmet. She sucked and bobbed her head until he busted in her mouth, she gladly swallowed his load after tasting all she could of him. After that she crawled onto the bed and laid down seductively, Barry remembered his manners and crawled to her legs and split them open. He outstretched his tongue and pressed it against her lips, bringing it up and down her crevice. He played with her lips and hole a little bit, scooping around the lips and treading into the hole. The lips tasted like her mouth, mostly fleshy with a tinge of metallic zest, but the hole felt fleshy with a taste of almost all aluminum like an aircraft frame. Once she was excited to the point she bent her back and moaned as she came he determined that she was ready. It elapsed much more like their first time as well, only twice the tempo for some good and long sex. Instead of muttering so big Cliona was begging him don’t pull out, Barry! They had already decided on a child, only now was Cliona mentally ready for it. He slowly arose to his climax, he held it as long as he could and this effort accelerated his thrusts and just before he let go he was pounding her tight pussy. As he released he went back to the usual tempo. Her tight and plush walls pulsed around his massive displacement, encouraging his cock to be generous and generous it was as it dumped a massive load inside her. She felt it ooze out and roll deeper inside her regions, it was surprisingly hot and heartwarming as she dreamt about a child. They locked in a long kiss as Barry brought her closer and closer to her climax. They fucked the whole night trying different positions through it all and never did Barry pull out. They finished their runs just a few minutes before the sun would rise, they laid in bed together spooning and sleeping with Cliona wrapped in her wings and Barry’s arms. They woke to a beautiful mid-afternoon gale. After the honeymoon Cliona and Barry decided to transform Barry, but the only one who could do that to him is Enda. They visited the parents shortly after they got back from their honeymoon; Enda was glad to help and transformed Barry quicker than they originally thought but the pain K.O.-ed Barry for a good hour. Afterwards in the privacy of a side room in the hanger Cliona practiced ‘breast feeding’ on Barry.

“That is not your breast. That is a hose.”

“Well do you see nipples, Barry?” She lifted her shirt and bra; there weren’t any nipples on her body. She put her shirt and bra back and extended the feeding tendril from under her arm. “My mom doesn’t have nipples, either, much less breasts. She has these feeding tendrils, so do I. I only have one under each arm; I think she has four or six. Maybe it’s five.” She stuffed her nozzle into his mouth, shocking him wide-eyed. He said with a full mouth ‘it’s cold’ and tried to spit it out. “No! You’re not spitting it out! You need this; look mom said she did this with dad so I’m doing it with you! Stop struggling, Barry!” He twisted his head left and right like an insubordinate child. She grabbed his chin tight and forced her nozzle into his mouth and he gave in. He sucked on her nipple nozzle and it gave him warm.., milk.., of a sorts. As he drank her milk that actually tasted good Cliona explained why she had to breast feed him. “I know it’s weird but you need this. You need all new stomach juice and this is how you’ll start making it. I know you wanted to change but I didn’t tell you this because I knew you’d be against it. Can you move your legs yet?” Barry shook his head no. He had been put on a table with Cliona leaning over him. Shortly after she fed him, Barry felt his body again, he felt his arms return and then his legs before further extremities like the hands, feet, toes, fingers and genitals. “Another thing I didn’t tell you is we’ll be able to go a lot longer in bed, and a lot harder.” She was lying on top of him by then, once he had full range of motion again he tried out his new body and they continued on their way home to Virginia. They flew on a regular plane, not Enda like they wanted too, but this wasn’t too much of a letdown anyhow. They loved on the nights she wanted it for the whole nine months. She had told her boss about her pregnancy and after she congratulated Cliona she moved Cliona to training some others before she was sent home on maternity leave.

She gave birth to a baby boy that was a lot like his mother. Barry and Cliona had never thought of names until then, they decided on Sebastian. He was a little grayish-tan bundle of a mess. He had his mother’s wings and his father’s face with a mix of his mother’s; he didn’t have a visor but he had a pointed nose but a more defined human-esk face. He was a rascal that loved to play, he loved to play with grandpa (shortly after Sebastian’s birth Enda’s Airbus 380 series was retired for the newer and more efficient models) and fly with grandma. He would also love to cook with abuela and they’d cook many Mexican foods together.

One night after they put Sebastian to bed, Cliona and Barry sat outside on the back patio and held each other. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“Of course I do, it was in the terminal.”

“Did you think we’d ever get this far?”

“To be honest.., I’ve never been so happy to be so wrong.” They say in quiet again, staring at the night sky so vast and filled with stars so bright. “Sebastian really likes those old folk songs. It lulled him right to sleep.”

“That’s good, I like ’em too. Tomorrow is our anniversary.”

“I know, it’s been a long time, but it’s been so rememberable.” They held each other’s hand and wrapped up in a blanket, listening to the crickets chirp and the distant sounds of the town.

The end.

Oh and yes, this takes place in the same timeline as HaM. 😉

IMG_9953
Some awesome fan art! Yeah this is Cliona at the Wawa and it nailed what I had in my mind. Oh and the same person told me Bakka means idiot in Japanese so, yeah. I’ll keep it in simply because it might have grown on Frisk and he didn’t care what it meant.

IS-III Part II

by

Here’s what I’ve cooked up for Dima and Demon. The sex scene is kinda lame, I’m sorry but I didn’t really feel motivated to write the sex scene, more geared towards what’s after it.

Enjoy.

IS-3 part II:

Dima rocked side to side in the shipping hold. She was very excited to be going on to a life with meaning. She was at one end of the hold with her turret backwards and at the other end was Demon facing her. He was holding her rear drive sprockets close to his forward drive sprockets trying to keep them warm against the cold Atlantic air. He wished he could be by her side but because of the packed ship there was no room. He cuddled her ass against his chest and reached for tarps to cover themselves with. He had just gotten them settled in and warm when he noticed Dima had the eye.

“What’s on your mind, Dima, baby?”

“Us rocking the boat.” They smiled as the audible sound of her track link ‘pantie’ falling to the floor echoed throughout the cargo vessel hold. She reached across to his armored cover and removed it, then stroked the hardening member presenting itself. The engine noise and closed off bulkheads meant they would be a faint moan to the crew, and fret little about being interrupted. They eyed each other as Dima pulled his cock to her wetting vagina lips and split them open with two of her fingers. She closed her eyes and moaned softly as she felt his hard head touch her innards, and moaned louder as she let her lips snap shut onto his cock. She pulled more out to press deeper into her, moaning more and more.

“Not any deeper, please, baby?” Demon asked, he was scared of hurting the child, going too deep and hitting it. She nodded, she wanted him as deep as the first night but knew that couldn’t happen, not for a few more months, at least. “You’re so soft, softer than last time. God damn it’s so good!” He pulled his cock back out to the head as she moaned and grunted.

“Rock me, Demon, rock the baby and me asleep.” She pleaded with him, after the two months they’ve met Demon learned she liked it rough, weld bending rough.

“I don’t think I can rock you as hard as I did on shore-”

“And whys that?”

“I don’t think the boat <personal pet peeve it’s a ship> can take it.” He smiled while she frowned.

“Just get humping, already.” She snapped. “Unless you want me to lead.” He instantly started thrusting his hull and cock into her, letting her drop her nose into the hull and ride up onto his hull front. He lowered his rear and thrusted up into her heavy chassis, thrusting her rear into to air every thrust upwards. Her vagina molded to his thrashing cock, holding onto him tight, and getting tighter with every other deep penetrating thrust. At one point her loud moans and grunts turned to her Russian language, Demon always liked it when she spoke Russian, it made him feel like her special one. He moaned aloud in between her vocals to fill the air.

Eventually their engines started to turn over, started, because of fire hazards the two were drained of fuel and obviously their ammos were removed. The clicking and grinding of metal grew louder and louder as did the moaning, then the noise of screeching metal began as Dima’s arms gripped Demon’s skirt and death gripped it; as per the other marks this wasn’t her first time doing it to them. They loved each other for what they guessed was the rest of the night, that morning was when Dima proposed something that made Demon shiver.

“Demon, I want you to feel the child for me.” He shuddered.

“What?!”

Reach inside and tell me what it feels like, our child.” He out right declined. “If you won’t then I’ll do it myself.”

“You’ll hurt it!”

“No. It has Russian blood. It won’t feel a thing but a mother’s hand.” She was about to reach into herself when she darted and grabbed Demon’s hands and shoved them inside her vagina. “Maybe you are the baby, and this is the man?” She joked. Demon was very intrigued and raced ahead deeper into her vagina, lifting up her hull onto his chest so his arms could reach. “Or maybe not.”

“Damn,” he felt all the way to the womb, almost a boiling hot inside as he gingerly searched for the fetus. He touched something with a finger and knew exactly his blood ran in those tubes. He closed his eyes.

“What is it like?”

“I can feel it’s suspension, it has your wheels.” Dima giggled and shivered in excitement. She could feel commotion inside but not specifics, Demon was making his way around her insides, around the fetus.

“It has your chest, and my round hatch on it. It’s a little sausage,” Dima giggled, “with my rear-”

“Boy or girl!? Boy or girl!?” Demon felt around.

“I dunno.”

“Where’s the turret? What gun? What turret? Is it heavy?”

“I dunno, is it heavy?”

“I can’t tell!”

“Alright, it’s a closed turret like ours, your shape but my height.., and the gun mantle is rounded, the gun is pretty big.” Dima giggled a lot more. “It’ll be beautiful, babe.” He retracted his arms, placed her on the floor, and looked her in the eyes.

“I love you, Demon.”

“I love you, Dima.” They slept together until they woke up hours later, only to go back to sleep to pass the days. Allen wasn’t allowed in and was kept with the crew the whole voyage. Soon they would all see the sun set over the New York skyline.

Fin IS-3 part II

TITANIC PT II

by

Here’s part two for yall. I’ve got nothing to say, really, so

Enjoy!

TITANIC PT II

“Violet, dinner is ready.” Titanic told Violet, she was on her bed drawing a picture of a park filled with trees, grass, people, sky and a sun.

“Okay mum.” She rolled over and put on her favorite green shirt and a little brown and red striped skirt, slipped into her light up tennis shoes and galloped down the hallway toward the stairwell. She ran down the stairs and zoomed down the hallway and ran over her cousin Tobey sitting in the hallway.

“OW! Vi-let! Aunt T said no running in the hall!” He rubbed his black hair and stood up to confront her.

“Well what were you doing in the hallway, toad?”

“I found a coin and I was playing with it. Dinner is done do you want to sit with me?” He was two years younger than she was, and she had grown big. She had long Auburn hair that Titanic had helped her braid; when Violet asked how she knew how to braid when she had no hair Titanic showed her an unbraided rope. She had tan skin from playing on Titanic’s decks all day and her skin turned from the metallic gray as a baby to a more human look with silver hair roots and veins while her nails were a hue of skin and gray mix. Tobey shared much of her features only he had black hair and pale blue eyes.

“Hmm, yeah.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him along to the crew mess hall.

“Hey there Violet!” Violet spun around to see Walt with his deck of cards in hand, he had a raspy yet young voice and a wind burned face from nights on the bridge and crow’s nest. “You eatin with us?”

“Yup! Got any more tricks, Waldo?” He loved to play with Violet, all of the crew did, but Walt played hide ‘n seek with her the most and he was really good at hiding, as well as magic tricks.

“I sure do, here I’ll show you.” He knelt down to her level and began shuffling.

“Alright Violet, pay close attention now. I’m going to draw a card and you’re going to call out a house it’ll go too. Alright?”

“Yeah!”

“Alright, what house Violet?”

“Clubs! The house of Clubs!” He quit his shuffling and pinched the cards to spit into the air. It looked like he wanted to stop on a card but they slipped from his hand and he scrambled them around.

“Drat! Oh well, let’s pick up the cards.” They swept all the cards together and Violet looked through them.

“There’s a card missing, Waldo.”

“Ah! So it seems, check your shoe there.” He pointed to her left shoe, she pulled it off and out shook a card. “What is it?”

“It’s the seven of Clubs!”

“Yep, happy belated birthday, Violet.”

“Thanks, Waldo!” She hugged him and gave the cards back.

“Alright now, you little scamp, go on and get some food.” She and Tobey went into the crew’s mess that was once the officer’s mess and grabbed a tray. The crew lined up at the counter to get their food, Violet and Tobey went around the counter and stood next to the server.

“What do ye want little guril?” He asked in his thick Scottish accent charmingly.

“I want… that, that, some of that, and-uh… that!” She pointed to the various food trays.

“What do ye say?”

“Pleeeease?” He smiled and served her sweet potatoes with a topping of gravy, a bit of ham, and a bread roll. She started to walk away when he stopped her.

“Hold on there lassy! Ye’re fogotten son’n.”

“No. Oops, thank you!”

“No lassy, ye’re plate’s not full.”

“But I don’t want vegibles!”

“Ye’re got to eat them little guril, so ye’ll grow big an strong!” He plopped a serving of broccoli onto her tray. “Ye’ll thank meh letter in life.” She grumbled away as he served Tobey his food. She saw her father sitting off to the side looking over more documents and ran over to his side.

“Hi daddy!”

“Hey baby. Where’s Tobey?” She put her tray down at her spot and pointed to the counter before climbing onto the bench.

“What’s that?” She pointed to all the papers around Bradley.

“They’re more papers from Mr. Patelo.”

“Okay. Where’d aunt Britney and Uncle Harry go?” Titanic and Bradley were watching Tobey while Britannic, Harold and Patelo chased down possible areas for Olympic’s residence.

“Off to find auntie O. Hi Tobey.”

“Hi Uncle Brad. Mom said they were going to try the are tick. What’s the are tick?”

“The Arctic is a very cold place above Ireland.”

“That’s where penguins live!” Violet said as she filled her mouth with the sweet potatoes.

“Violet don’t speak with your mouth full.” Titanic said to Violet, Bradley, and Tobey simultaneously to keep it within a circle. She swallowed her food.

“Sorry.”

“And penguins live in the Antarctic, Violet, not the Arctic. Polar bears live in the Arctic.” He went back to studying.

“Uncle Brad when will we find auntie O?”

“Soon Tobey, we’ll find her soon.” Violet and Tobey at their dinners quietly while Bradley stared at a certain satellite picture of a fjord in the Norwegian area. “Violet, look at this and tell me what you see.” She took a long look at the picture where his finger was pointing.

“It looks like a small pencil, daddy. See there’s the lead at the bottom and there’s the eraser at the top. The eraser looks used daddy.” He smiled and patted her shoulder.

“Thank you Violet, you helped me a lot.” Violet looked at his notes and thought.

“Is that Auntie O?”

“Maybe.” She finished dinner and took her tray to the counter and placed it on the stack of dirty dishes before running back to her room. Bradley sat at the table with Tobey who had put his tray on the dirty dishes as well.

“Uncle Brad, when will me and Violet go to my mum?”

“Well she said she had about a weeks’ worth of rations left yesterday, so maybe in a day, two days maybe.”

“Then you and aunt T will go to look for Auntie O?”

“Yup.”

“Why can’t we come?” Bradley was quiet; Violet had asked that same question.

“Titanic, honey, could you get Violet for me?” Titanic fetched Violet and she came running back.

“Daddy what is it?” He sat her down and reminded her of the question.

“Well, Violet do you remember when mister Patelo and I went off and we turned out the lights while mommy held you in a closet with the window and door blocked and locked?”

“Yeah.”

“Well there were bad men on board. They wanted to stop us and sink mommy. They don’t like us-”

“Why don’t they like us daddy?”

“Because they’re scared of us, they’re scared of what the world would be like if we lived. You know you’re different right?”

“Yeah. I’m not a human.” She said proudly.

“Well they don’t like you because you’re not human, and they don’t like me because I’m not anymore either. They really don’t like mommy because she’s not human.”

“Why not? Mummy’s awesome! I love mummy!”

“They don’t, they think she’s not natural, she’s a freak.” Violet pouted.

“Mummy’s no freak!”

“Violet, we can’t take you or you Tobey, because those bad men want to kill you. We don’t want you to get hurt, and they wouldn’t stop until you were dead, until I was dead, until Harold was dead, until mommy was dead.”

“So what did you do to the bad men that night, Uncle Brad?”

“We, we…” He had to tell them something.

“Tell them the truth dear, they need to know.” He brought Tobey and Violet onto his knees and hugged them to his chest and whispered to them the truth.

“Mister Patelo and I killed them.” Tobey wasn’t too affected by this; Violet began asking a fury of questions.

“How daddy? Where? Did you get hurt? Did mister Patelo get hurt? Did any escape? Did they hurt mummy?”

“Hold on Violet! I have a gun; you know what to do if you see a gun, right?”

“It’s always loaded and don’t touch it! Find you or a adult and tell mummy!” Tobey nodded in agreement.

“Good, no one you know was hurt. Not mister Patelo, not mommy, and nor was I hurt. None of them lived, mister Patelo made sure of that.” She hugged him tight.

“I love you daddy. I love mummy.”

“We love you too, baby.” Tobey was sitting there trying to grasp the subject. He must of thought really hard about it because he asked if he could go to bed. “Yes dear, you can go to bed.” Violet left with Tobey to her room. She walked into her room and sat on her bed, taking off her shoes, shirt and skirt, throwing them into a hamper, and laid on the bed in her undies to keep drawing the picture she started. Tobey went to his room undressed, brushed his teeth and flossed before he went to bed.

“Do you really think it’s Olympic, dear?”

“I’m the most certain about this one than any before.” He looked at the picture and circled the grid coordinates. “Our turn now, we’re going out to find her.” He leaned back in his chair and relaxed.

“I hope we find her, we’ve come too far not to find her. And Bradley, dear, I want another.”

“We’ll see. We’ll see.”

“At least tonight could we, say, warm up, dear?” She mentally spoke in a seductive way that was really at its best in her mental talk.

“You know I can’t say no to you.” He thought back to her. They shared dirty plans with each other; they worked the night out so tediously Bradley went for more food to keep him going through it all. He ate it quickly as he listened to her elaborations of the things she’ll do to him. He dumped the plate and tray off in the sink and hurriedly strolled to his room. He did stop to check on Tobey and Violet, Violet was laying on her bed coloring in her picture.

“Make sure you clean up and brush your teeth before you go to bed, sweetie.”

“Okay daddy.”

“And don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t.”

“Goodnight Violet, I love you.”

“Goodnight, daddy.” She got up and ran to his leg in the door and hugged it. “I love you, too daddy.” She then broke off and ran back to her bed. He closed the door and went to his room.

“I think I want another one, too baby.” He thought to her. She responded with an envelope of arms as he walked in his room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“Ready to get busy, Bradley?” He kissed one of her hands and undid his shirt. “That’s a yes, then!” She reached into his pants and massaged his growing cock. He let her open his belt and pants; he savored her hands slowly gliding down his legs as she pushed his pants to the floor. She slid her hands all around his skin, his broad shoulders, defined chest and abs, large biceps, leg and calf muscles. She was grazing over his body when she felt his boxers, she stopped there somewhat aggravated. “Why do you need these? I’d prefer you not wearing them, dear. A lot quicker to get to the good parts.”

“I like it, it’s normal and comfy.”

“What’s comfier? These boxers, or me?” She tempted him with flashing her tendril vagina at him.

“Well, I’m gonna have to go with you, babe.”

“Well let’s get comfy.” She ripped his boxers in half to launch his rocket up into her space. He mouthed my favorite boxers as he watched her throw them in the waste bin. She nudged him toward the bed to snap him back to her, he climbed into bed as she slid onto him and threw the covers over.

“I forgot the light.” She switched it off immediately.

“Aaahhh! Why don’t you wear me around your waist instead, Bradley?” He chuckled softly.

“I have changed you, you’d never say that nine years ago.”

“Oh no I would! You’ve changed me, yes, but now I’m just more OPEN about it!” She pushed him deeper mid-sentence with a hard thrust to push on his hilt. He grabbed her tendril and held it there, flexing his cock inside her tight throbbing pussy.

“Because a tendril snaking out my pant leg would be a little obvious.” He pulled out hardly then tried to push his way in. “OH you want it, don’t you!? You’re so fucking tight right now!”

“Fuck yeah I want it! I really want it! Fucking give it to me Bradley! Give me all of it! Fucking flood my insides!” She rode him as he pushed into her, her juices pumping out onto him and the bed while he squished it out with his expansive member. She became tighter and hotter as her speed increased; he was on his final stretch before he’d meet her on cloud nine. He reached down and ferociously pets her clit, she in turn reached and caressed his sack in her warm gentle hand, accelerating each other’s run to the orgasm. She locked him in deep just as he focused all his attention on holding his sperm in, both being pushed to climax only by one another’s throbbing and trembling.

“I-I-I-I can’t take much more!” He huffed through clenched teeth.

“I’m ready! I’m ready!” She was gripping on him where his cock felt like solid steel.

“Take it! Take it and make another beauty!” It had been apparent they were locked together at a stalemate. He reached down and gripped her tendril and squeezed it while rubbing up and down. If it at all hurt her he didn’t know, her screams and cries in his head were of joy, encouragement, and praise.

“YYYEEEEESSSSS BRADLEY! YYYYYEEEEESSSSS!”She felt his seamen shoot deep into her and cover her closed inner walls with hot sticky and tingly goodness. She felt it get hotter and hotter at his head meaning it was clumping up there. She wanted it everywhere inside her, and she rolled him on top of her vagina that suction stuck to his groin to dislodge his baby cream and trickle it down her juicy plush cavern. She figured he built up for this because she felt him ooze for thirty seconds or so nonstop, and something told her he still wasn’t done. He started to pull out extremely slow, leaving a good covering of sperm all along her path evoking more pleasant cries and whines from Titanic in Bradley’s head. He kept coating her gleefully accepting passage in his white cream until his head had exited her vagina where he pushed the rest he saved out into her for a creampie. “Oh Bradley! You really know how to make me happy!”

“I know how much you love the touch I leave you, so I funneled it all out for you, my sexy dream ship.”

“This dream ship isn’t done yet, Bradley baby.” She was about to start when Bradley stopped her. “What? What’s wrong, dear?”

“I’m alright with having another, but what’s it going to be? Are we going to have it now, or later? It’s in your vagina now.” He smiled at his own pun, she giggled at it as well.

“Well, you’ve wanted a baby ship before dear.”

“Yes but, I’ve looked at it and it’d be really hard to raise. It’d need more milk, more space, we’d need to tow it everywhere with us, there are a lot of difficulties.”

“Wouldn’t you feel it’d be worth it, dear?”

“Entirely, but, just not now. We’ve got to focus on this right now.”

“I have a plan, this time we’ll have a morph, and then later we can have that ship baby you want, dear.”

“Sounds good, Titanic.”

“There I get laid every night.” He smiled and kissed her hand. He watched as the jizz-drooling tendril reversed and sucked up his creamy gift. “Aww, Bradley, the good stuff is gone now! Could you be a dear and fix that for me Bradley?”

“I was gonna fix it anyways, darling.” The two of them went all the night long. They usually did this once a week and never had sex on the other nights, focusing more on tasks and Violet. It was a weekend night and Violet would be asleep for most of the next morning regardless of what her parents did. Tobey was an early riser, however. The next morning he climbed out of bed and went outside. He liked being outside, he liked looking at the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea, the clouds in the sky, and anything else that was outside he typically liked. He stepped outside barefoot and was caught by one of the officers.

“Tobey, go on inside and get your shoes on! You’ll freeze your feet in this winter wash. He felt the deck was wet and freezing cold, as he turned back he caught a glimpse of a long white ship with five dark yellow structures rising to the sky and a green band going down the side. He lit up and spun around and saw his mom heading for the port.

“MUMMA! MUMMA!” He called and ran up to the rail and jumped up and down waving his arms hello. The officer swept him off his feet to keep his feet off the freezing wet deck.

“Yes your mums here. Come on let’s get you dressed, Tobey.” He carried him to his room and told him to get dressed. Tobey was getting dressed and made such a racket singing “mumma’s here, mumma’s here,” he woke Titanic up. Titanic heard him and looked about and saw her sister, but something was off. She looked at her from her broadside view, she saw red at the water, but it was weird; she followed it and saw no red at her bow or her-

“Britannic what happened!?” Britannic’s face lit up but held some shame in itself.

“Oh, uh… it’s quite a tale-”

“I warned you about the ice! You didn’t listen did you?” Britannic looked ashamed.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s really not my fault! I was way clear of the surface break!”

“I told you most of them are underwater. I told you all about them.” The two had drifted close to each other.

“In all honesty it wasn’t my fault! Let me explain. We were reading the sonar and it said I had at least two yards clearance. It was wrong and I scraped a portion of my hull as it drifted under.” She sounded hurt, hint of physical pain but mostly emotional.

“I know it hurts, it hurts.”

“It was cold, cold and painful. The mine was nothing compared to that! The mine was instant and contained; the ice was slow and burning.” Titanic gave her a reassuring look. “The water was the worst; it came up slow and freezing, and it was stinging. Nothing like the Mediterranean seas, they were warm and comforting.”

“I know, I know.” Britannic’s moorings were tied and checked and the gangways were ferrying people in and out to prepare her for dry dock for repairs. Harold was comforting her from his room. Patelo walked down the gang way and thanked Britannic before greeting Titanic and asking to come aboard.

“Go ahead. Bradley’s got some news for you, I’ll wake him.” She shook Bradley awake and told him to get dressed in a hurry. He made himself decent while Patelo lagged along her magnificent halls and grand interiors. He made his way to the navigation office where he met the Captain and husband of the ship, Bradley, along with a few other high ranking officers.

“What’s the good, Mister Bradley?”

“Well the satellite pictures you gave me were pretty boring and bland, but one was eye catching.”

“Go on.”

“Here, in the Norwegian arctic fjords, this blip right there…” He pointed to the stubby pencil Violet called it. “My daughter confirmed it as a little pencil, so you guys don’t need to get so close to it.”

“Aging can be a pain.” The Captain said as he refolded his second pair of spectacles.

“Yeah, anyway she appears to be set with her bow facing the delta and her stern looks like it’s in a dock, possibly a dry dock. Our only problem would be getting her out, there’s all this ice in the channel to the Baltic Sea.”

“And the Baltic’s to shallow for most ice ships, isn’t it?” The first officer asked, he seemed doubtful in his tone.

“Sadly yes, but if that’s her then she got there somehow, and that’s how we’ll get her out.” Bradley concluded, there was a tense silence in the room.

“I have an option.”

“Yes? What is it?”

“An old German cruiser, she was designed specifically for Baltic Sea operations and her guns could be quite useful in dislodging those ice clusters.”

“But could she ram one?”

“Most likely no, but it’s pretty hard to withstand eight twenty-eight centimeter guns, ain’t it?” They nodded in agreement. Then the question was asked by Titanic.

“Who is she?”

“The Prinz Eugen. We raised her some time back and fixed her up. She hasn’t used her mains yet but ice’ll be a good substitute.”

“When will she be here?” Titanic asked excitedly, entranced again by the huge amount of info pointing to reuniting with her sister.

“She’s in Germany, if she’s back from her celebration voyage yet. So about a day if she’s in port otherwise who knows? I’ll send word now if it’s a done deal?”

“Yes, send her a message. Include her using her guns!” Titanic ushered him to the radio station. He agreed and switched on the radio and dialed it in.

Guttentaug Patelo!

“German? What’d she say? Why is she speaking German!?” Titanic asked astounded.

“Hush, it means good morning. Why do you think she speaks German?” He went back to the radio and asked Eugen to speak English for Titanic.

Ah, that’s fine. Greetings Titanic!

Yes, hello Prince Yoi-gen,

It’s Prinz, not Prince.

My apologies, as I was saying, will you help us?

Help you with what?

I’ll explain, Titanic. We’re searching for the R.M.S. Olympic and we think we’ve got her.

What’s the catch?

She’s locked up by ice in a fjord in Northern Norway, in the Baltic, and we need your guns to pulverize the ice.

I think we can do that. We’ll help you.

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Titanic rejoiced. Patelo gave Eugen Liverpool’s position where Titanic and Britannic were currently so Eugen would meet them there. After confirmation he signed off the radio and met with the officers again.

“Prinz Eugen’s onboard. Give her a day to meet us here and from there we’ll continue on.” The meeting was closed and all that was left was the waiting game.

Titanic couldn’t sit still; she’d twiddle her thumbs, wag her rudder, toy with her cranes, or pluck her anchor chain to pass time. Bradley talked to her to sooth her; excite her, anything to calm her anxiety, anything at all. Violet had packed some of her things and came out to say goodbye to mom and dad before she left with a very excited Tobey to board her aunt. Titanic and Bradley watched Tobey run down the gangway to his mom and Violet stroll down and skip over to Britannic’s gangway rolling her travel bag behind her. Titanic never really felt normal when Violet went to spend time with Britannic, she knew she was in safe hands but the feeling of being hopeless in protecting her life was something she knew too well and didn’t want to ever go back.

“Take care of her.”

“I will. Don’t worry, Titanic, I’m not going anywhere.” Titanic shifted nervously as she always did, but they all knew she’d get past it. Night time came around and Titanic wanted to get it on and wasn’t afraid of doing it in front of her sister, they’d had an orgy when Violet was at grandparent’s house and their crews were on leave for the time, but Bradley really wanted a morph baby. She was a little upset but he did agree to snacking on her, which he did for a long and splendid time, before making her some chow and scrounging some scrap for her to munch on he started watching for the cruiser. He lulled her to sleep so more of her energy would go to forming the baby and so she’d have less conscious time before they set out. He sat in the starboard bridge over watch and saw a silhouette with a low curved hull and a bold tall superstructure with dim lights all about the ship.

“That must be her.” She was smaller than Titanic and Britannic, shorter lengthwise and height wise, but her speed he could see in harbor was faster than Titanic’s speed. Her movement showed her nimble design at work as she weaved port and starboard to increase her wake and drag as she sent herself into reverse.

“Guttenacht!” She called, Bradley sat there lost. “Spreken ze Duetshe?” He shook his head no. “Obviously English, then. Oh vell.”

“So you’re Prince Eugen?”

“Prinz Eugen.”

“Prinz Eugen, okay, so you’re helping us?”

“Yes I am. I’m helping you through the Baltic. What’s her speed?” She gestured to Titanic as she dropped anchors.

“Uh… she can reach twenty-eight, twenty-nine if there’s a tailwind and current for her.”

“Her cruising speed?”

“She usually goes twenty to twenty-two, but she’s really anxious to get there so don’t doubt her going full steam.”

“Don’t worry I can reach the thirties. I’ll keep up and ahead.” Bradley was able to go to bed then, he said good night and went inside and hit the sack.

FIN TITANIC PT II

The Typhoon

by

I know I’ve posted this before (incomplete) but I can’t find it at all so I’m just re-posting. It has been so long ago that many may not remember what actually happened. There is some very weird (and disgusting) stuff that I added in JUST to SHOW what technology advances have come up (you all will know what disgusting part I mean it weirds me out too, it’s just so gross..,) and to show how if she really needed to get something from a man she can. Yeah and there’s an underlined sentence towards the end, that’s just where I started up again after so long. Scroll through until you reach a point you don’t remember because there’s a lot of writing here (20+ pages).

Enjoy! Lots of sex!

The Typhoon

Severstal waited in her moorings for her friend to visit her as he always did. She thought about their friendship, she was the massive Typhoon class ballistic missile submarine by NATO but actually an Akula class ballistic missile submarine recently decommissioned from the Russian Navy but was still part of the North Fleet, while he was a harbor hand that was assigned to maintain her hull and deckings. She thought how he’d never been to sea, really, and would occasionally think of taking him to sea just as an excuse to sail again for herself. She waited and thought about how he an active sportsman was assigned such a dull task in the Navy, her mind drifted around all the times they spent together, she thought about maybe dating him even though Russia only recently opened up interbiology relationships and so far it’s sketchy at best but still, it’d be nice. They clicked so well, it started off with finding out they had the same birthday on April 11th 1988, twenty-seven years ago, and their legal in a sense for a relationship and for some particular reason that’s the only thing she could think of that morning.

“Anatoly! You made it!” She spotted him creeping in the snow dressed in all white, she looked at him with his normal cocked smirkish smile and restless brown eyes as he lifted his face from the snow.

“How do you always see me?!” He stood up and brushed his coat and pants off.

“You forget I have infrared vision, too.” With the modern marvels and advances in technologies living machines have come a long way since their appearance in vast numbers back in World War Two, such as multiple vision modes, more accurately controlled functions, stronger bodies, more features, and Severstal’s favorite feature not used, easier child production and a better sexual experience.

“No, I expect you to play fairly. Anything new?” He took long strides toward the moorings checking them for anything loose or wrong, before looking up at her ‘face’ to listen.

“Nothing other than the usual.” Her massive conning tower bore a mouth about a third up and two eyes two thirds up and placed on the curve so that she had excellent bow and flank vision with partial stern viewing. He watched her eyes fade from a greenish-orange color of IR vision to her day vision. He loved her eyes, once light blue but due to a missile run through test they had been scarred a violet color, but that was well before she was decommissioned and her eyesight was still in top-notch order. Her smile was always nice to look at, pearly white razor tiger shark teeth. He crossed the gangway and checked her onboard moorings for any deficiencies and found none so he turned back to Serverstal for any last minute chats before he went to swab the decks. She kept her giddy complexion.

“Hey, Anatoly…” She felt compelled to ask him out but- to where exactly?

“Yeah, Serverstal?” She couldn’t get it out for some reason; she’d never been shy in her life but couldn’t say those words.

“Ah never-mind.” He shrugged and went to scrubbing again. Their usual conversations included Anatoly talking about history; he’s a major history buff, the two talking about sports; Serverstal listens on the radio, and about world events. Anatoly finishes her deck and she decides trying to ask again.

“Anatoly… You aren’t seeing anyone, right?”

“No I’m not. Why?”

“Well… would you like too?” He thought for what seemed like forever for Severstal but for Anatoly it was two seconds.

“I don’t see anything wrong. Sure let’s date.” Severstal took a sigh of relief, Anatoly chuckled, he’d never seen her so nervous before. “What, was that so hard?”

“Yes, yes it was hard!” Randomly she instantly thought about his hard dick and followed up that thought with: Really brain? Not even a minute in. Not even a minute. She moved on from that and went on with the day, and was reminded of the hard dick thought when he went below decks inside her to help out a coworker. No other sexual thoughts drifted through that day, only once or twice more through the week but she got over them. Their interactions became more serious in terms of dating, and things were beginning to show they were dating but it wasn’t as much as the Admiral did.

In a month from starting to date she felt equal on the high want to sail and the high want to finally use her sex parts and fuck Anatoly, and the night Anatoly promised to come in the next morning even though it was a holiday off she talked to the admiral about getting to sail tomorrow with Anatoly accompanying.

“Admiral tomorrow is a holiday, the base is closed, I wanted to take leave and sail for a few hours again. Hopefully with one passenger if you will.” The Admiral was laid back and fair, and he definitely wasn’t against human-machine relationships. Everyone on base suspected that he was dating his American 1967 Camaro Olivia, and everyone knew officially he was when interbiology relationships were passed in 2005 with a age of twenty for both partners for marriage. He wasn’t afraid of sex either, he was boisterous and giddy when he announced he and Olivia were having a baby in 2008 with the best mood anyone could remember him having, maybe better when their daughter was born but still he wasn’t at all against it. But he made it clear there would be absolutely no sexual intercourse on base.

“A little bit of a short notice, isn’t it?”

“I apologize, Sir.” She literally crossed her fingers on all of her manipulators and waited painfully for his response.

“Well… It’s not like you go anywhere much, I would counter you without a crew but you passed those tests in ’94 so you can go alone. It seems you may go. Leave at… o-eight-hundred and be back no later than twenty-hundred hours.” He turned to go back towards the gates then did a one-eighty. “No forget that.” Serverstal ceased celebrating and stared at him in anguish. “I have something better.”

“Y-yes, Sir?”

“I’ve been bombarded by some museum board or something like that to have a ‘Typhoon’ class submarine sail around Russia’s coast and stop at ports for a while to be an exhibit so-to-say, and I was going to have Arkhangelsk be used because it’s not alive and possibly offended by that but since you asked to sail alone with only one person then you could do that instead. It’ll be a six week voyage to some amount of ports that I don’t know yet but you and Anatoly can go.”

“Wait how did you know I was taking-”

“Everyone knows you two are dating so who else would it be? All you’d do probably is show up on time and talk about your service and that shit while he could do whatever the hell. You’ll start next Tuesday.” He turned to leave then spun around walking backwards to shout again. “And it’s about time you two bang.” Then he spun around and left the base in his nonliving car for home to his beloved favorite girls in the world.

Severstal would eagerly wait for morning to tell Anatoly the two of them were sailing in nine days.

Those days passed quickly and on that Tuesday morning they set out from harbor to sail up and down the Pacific coast of Russia. Anatoly had packed a duffel bag of his personal stuff like clothes and such while the base spared the food and life support packages and the Admiral personally loaded a small crate with a mischievous smile and told Serverstal to only open it up once they were underway. Anatoly was as happy as a kid in a candy store sitting high up in the observation platform while Serverstal was cruising at eighteen knots northeast heading reading the note the Admiral had in the crate. She smiled very dirty when she read the whole thing. They were expected at the first stop the next day but arrived ahead of schedule so Serverstal decided to take a quick nap before sunrise dreaming of seducing Anatoly. She woke at dawn and met a woman with the historical department that set this up. She explained the whole rundown of things before she herself started her shift as a tour guide; turns out her father was one of Serverstal’s first crewmen. The day ran smoothly and Serverstal enjoyed sharing her history with the groups of people so interested in her, all sorts showed up it was amazing. When the day closed she was tugged to a separate dock away from the bustling noise of the city-worked docks. This is where she’ll nab him.

“Anatoly have you seen my swimming pool yet?” She had set up a table with a bottle of Vodka and a glass in the recreational swimming pool room.

“Yes I’ve seen the ocean before.” He joked with her eating his dinner.

“No, smartass, I’ve got a swimming pool inside me.” He hadn’t seen it, he finished his supper and was led to the preheated pool.

“Wow! A little out of place, don’t you think?” He was flabbergasted that a Soviet instrument of mass destruction… had a swimming pool.

“Not as misplaced as your clothes…” He couldn’t see her face directly but could visualize her dirty look, a sly grin and narrowed gaze upon him, he’d been getting it heavily the past week, and was handed a glass of Vodka before the door shut. “Come on, let’s skinny dip!”

“Well…” She didn’t wait; she stripped him all the way down. He wasn’t surprised or was blushing, knowing she had internal sight via cameras placed around her compartments. He climbed into the Jacuzzi she had set and slowly shook his head no at the camera like you naughty girl, you and sipped the drink. She wasted no time at all prepping him.

“Anatoly have you ever fapped to me?” She asked innocently. He gulped down another swig and ahhed.

“Yeah I’ve done it I won’t lie. Have you fapped to me?” He asked in return knowing what she was doing and excitedly waited for it.

“Yes, yes I have. Now, what if I told you…” She reached into the warm bubbling water with two hands and spread his legs for a very thick tendril blunt at the end with a vertical slit about six inches long to extend into the gap. “We don’t need to fap anymore?” He chuckled into his glass taking another sip.

“About time.” She launched the vagina onto his erected dick and then let on some water in the ballasts. The penetration allowed some of the hot water to slip into her slit and it continuously sloshed around inside her mixing with her natural hot silver lube that was on its own slowly seeping out into the Jacuzzi water. She focused onto his dick, he felt great… so long and thick! He throbbed inside her still growing to his full capacity, his head was wider than his shaft and she felt it pull upwards with every heartbeat pumping more into his member making her gasp and whimper at every movement. None of her tendrils came close to feeling like a penis inside her, ever.

“Aahhh! Oh baby! You get what you wanted?” Anatoly’s sparking comment triggered her to take him in, and this follow up was answered mmm-hhhmmm. He slipped deeper into the warm water; up to his chest, and sat there buried inside his lover’s pussy. She was tight, surprising for her 22,000 ton displacement, and she was pumping out her silver fluid innards into the water all around him with his member being licked by some trespassing water and massaged by her tendril love. He thought to himself; Vodka in one hand, sitting in a Jacuzzi, ridden by a sexy woman, what else do I need? She continued moaning and pulsing on his rock hard dick unable to make herself pull off to launch again until he finished his drink and put it down. By this time the water was quite murky with a dull silver tinge and he was ready to do this.

“No no, love, let me do this, you relax the travel away.” He says leaning forward when she tried to pull herself off him. She did as he said and was pinned with her vagina tendril against the opposite seat by her lover; she moved her two hands to around his waist and waited for his next move. He braced against the Jacuzzi wall and eased out of her slowly, drawing more moans and silver fluid from her until she clamped down on his head refusing to let him go. Then he eased in pushing her forward and shoving some more water inside to mix with her with her grunts sounding from some source in the room. Then his testing was finished and he picked up speed with bodily fluids mixing with each other and water in a blurry excitement of silver white thrashing water and a swarm of moans and grunts and sighs in the air. “Oh Serverstal! I just want to kiss you right now!” She lashed onto his lips with what had been the source of her voice; a thinner tendril than the one on his crotch and on its side acting as another mouth for her. They locked lips and sent their tongues forth into each other’s mouth, moaning and whimpering. She felt him inside her mouth and vagina, she felt him above her, she felt him shielding her from above, she felt right there in the water with him; kissing and being taken by him. She felt his power, his intensity, his energy unleashed, then the soft sand bed on her hull belly but cared not; her conning tower still towered above the water. She felt safe, secure, protected under him in a way indescribable to anyone who’ve not felt like this before. Like nothing mattered, nothing could hurt them, nothing moved but them, time shut down in this moment. She closed her eyes and tasted his lips, his saliva, his flesh, she was there in the water with him as the bigger one watching over her.

They parted lips with her taste leaving a positive impression on Anatoly, he wanted to taste her other lips. He felt her grip on his dick tighten and constrict, her inside heating up hotter than the jacuzzi water, the jacuzzi water was a violent slosh of motion, he felt hers was building right along with his, and at his peak at the top she was hauling him deep inside with her arms and her vagina tendril pushing on his dick, testicles, and crotch. Suddenly he felt his hold slip and his boner dispensed it’s load into her chasm right as she exploded against him and she moaned in a grunting fashion and the water around them turned a complete dull gray by Serverstal’s rush of her bodily fluids mixing and diffusing with the water. They sat motionless for a while listening to the silence only broker by their heavy breathing. They call it a night and head to bed to spoon.

Anatoly woke early in the morning before they would be towed to the deep to sail on their own. He stretched and felt around for Severstal’s vagina tendril so he wouldn’t roll on it, he couldn’t find it even though the bunk he’s occupying isn’t much bigger than him.

“Looking for something, hun?” She slithered her tendril up his belly and his chest. He looked at it and smiled his usual smirk.

“Good morning love.” He bent up and kissed the lips and got a snip of that addicting taste. She quivered along his body when he kissed her pursed vagina lips.

“Ooo-wrong pair of lips Anatoly.”

“No it’s not!” He grabbed her leaking and winking lips that craved some supplement and rolled over in the bunk and laid it on the mattress when it switched angles for him. He shoved his morning wood up into her snaking pleasure, and then laid on top of it. Severstal was taken again, she felt secure again like last night, exactly like last night only less water and a soft mattress for her to rest on with him above him. She closed her eyes and was there in the bed under the covers with him, the cloth on the mattress filled with springs, the crossbeams under the mattress, his force thrusting inside her, and his anguish having to pull out of her. She reached up and wrapped her metal snake arms around his back and brought him closer to her imaginary hull in the bed with him.

“Your ruining the sheets, babe!” He laughed pausing to adjust and noticing she was leaking heavily into the bed.

“Fuck the sheets! I’ve got loads of them!” She pushed on him to go more, he thrusted and she grunted with the force. He felt his orgasm speeding towards him, he didn’t think she was at all close so he hatched an idea to please her. She felt his actions stiffen and stutter while his thick meat went more ridged and aching, then she expected the launch of his milk when he yanked it out and came in the sheets.

“Oh so now you’re conscious of my fertility?” He ignored her jest and picked up her thick and heat emitting tendril very warm and excited and shoved it to his lips. “What are you doing?!” She clenched her lips together, confused of his intentions. He grunted in a displeased way and shoved his fingers in and forced it open; his fingers were let in easy but when trying to split it she fought him half-heartedly; curious to his thoughts. He splices them open and plants his mouth on the gap and laps at her walls and liquids and clit bulb. Her hull shook and Anatoly could feel it in the bunk, every lick, every stroke, every probe… he loved it, he felt… pride, joy, power. She was indulged in his toying, his long drawn strokes and tasting, she wanted to feel what he was but at the same time wanted to sit back and let him take her away. She motioned with a mouth tendril toward his meat but he gently grabbed it and pulled it away before asking her to enjoy this. She accepted this and backed off and the two let time fade away. Later on she finally began to approach her orgasm noticeably; her moans became more erratic and a tingling of electricity was traveling all through her fluids and into her lover, then her chasm became stricter and her relaxed lips no longer held open were twitching close to shutting again, she couldn’t help but embrace him as her journey was ending. She was almost at the point of climax when she lashed up and pushed his face into her even more and savored his facial and oral movements as her cum shot out of her with pressure shrieking it by his pressed face at the sides. She loosened up and let him retract his face.

“Woa, that-that was, ahhh, unbelievable.” She emptied out her ballast and slowly rose from the water to her typical buoyancy just as a tugboat pulled close for her to hitch to and follow out of the harbor.

Their next port was four days away but only a three day travel if she travelled submerged at full speed. She decided that they will have some fun along the way so once she was clear she submerged beneath the waves and throttled to twenty-five knots, not her full speed but faster than her surface full speed. Anatoly had enjoyed a long shower heated by her engine’s radiant heat that was allocated to him; the only passenger, then comfortably walked around in the nude whistling a tune ‘doo-doo-do-do-dout-toot-do-do-doo-doo-do-do-dout-toot-do-do-dout-dout-toot-toot-to-dout’ before casually putting on boxers and eating a breakfast. Then after he was finished up there he went to the head again and brushed his teeth humming that tune again, it was catchy. He rinsed his mouth out and couldn’t help but sing the lyrics. Severstal was listening intensely; she familiarized it with the American language when they spied on radio communications in the eighties. She couldn’t help but feel alone in this and she interrupted him and asked what he was singing.

“Oh that tune? It’s an old sea shanty. It’s called ‘Drunken Sailor’ and it’s one of my favorite songs. Here I can teach it to you if you’d like me to.”

“Yes please! I’d love to sing it with you!” One of their old pastimes was to sing any old song they knew with each other to pass time on long dreary days in dock. He enjoyed singing with her, they sounded majestic together.

“Alright here, I’ll sing you the translation first, then teach you the English words and how to pronounce them with the right accent. Alright it goes…

‘What would we do with a drunken sailor?

What would we do with a drunken sailor?

What would we do with a drunken sailor?

Early in the morning!’ That’s the first verse…” He tediously sang her again and again and around the time of supper he’d taught her all she needed to know, lyrics, beat, accents, all of the pitches and tones, and then they merrily sailed the seas like swashbucklers. She couldn’t get the morning out of her mind; him eating her out was glorious, stunning, pure awe.

“That was fun, honey, that was fun.”

“Glad you like it.”

“I also liked your little oral performance you played on me in bed.” He smiled his usual grin.

“Oh that? Yeah I thought you’d like that.” She hoped he’d be willing to go again sometime.

“So I got a kick out of it, how’d you fair?”

“Me? I liked it, very much.”

“Enough to do it again tonight?” She asked seductively.

“Oh I’ll eat you out until you’re sore my beautiful Severstal.” She accepted the challenge and he set up the scene this time before he went to eat a late supper. After he ate he wandered on over to the officer’s quarters where he set up some candles, Vodka, pillows, and no bed sheets. Severstal checked the time at around 2117 hours at a depth of 32 meters. She ‘climbed’ into bed with him, he was nude and waiting for her in that old laying on the side propped up pose, he hugged her vagina tendril and pulled it with him up to the edge of the bed where the wall was and leaned against a pillow and started his oral pleasuring. She shuddered and moaned like the morning encounter and slipped into a sort of high that made time die away from senses. She randomly snapped out of it and noticed that her altitude didn’t change or her course or speed, so she slipped back into his trance, wrapping a small army of arms around him like a blanket keeping him snug and warm. Their escapade caused Severstal several orgasms, around fifteen and eighteen, before she interrupted his fun.

“Ah-ah-ah it’s sore, babe! Aahhh it’s starting to hurt!” Anatoly stopped and patted the side of her tendril. She looked at the time and it was 0241 hours the next day, five and a half hours of nothing but sucking and licking. Anatoly himself felt aching and exhausted, he’d been kept going by an electric current in her cum and lube, and was also nourished by it at the same time. Her cocoon of loving embracing arms lifted him and laid him on the bed and spread open at the dick’s area letting the meat open up above the layer. Her mouth tendril smiled and slithered around to the boner. He said not to go the five hours; she wasn’t going too otherwise he’d die. She used her hands to monitor his health as she started licking the tip with her human sized soft metal tongue.

“Oohhhh, Severstal, mmm-”

“My turn now, relax love.” She plunged down on him and sucked on his meat. She savored his taste, her tongue mapped his skin and formed a picture for her mind of it’s shape. She rubbed up and down with her tongue on the underside of his entire long rod, a new taste startled her, he started to leak some precum and it rolled down and contacted and excited her rear-end of tongue. She quickly grew attached to the taste and moaned deeply right along with her lover. She felt his tense body turn jelly and started to blow him, rising up and down on his shaft pulling and pushing him with her tender lips and tongue, caressing and comforting him. He started to tense again but realized she didn’t care where he came and relaxed again just letting it happen, and when it did she desperately caught and spread all of it around on her taste receptors.

“Mmmm, you’re so good!” She pulled off to say, a string of her salivate connecting them, then she dove back for more, and more, and more. She continuously checked his vitals and he dozed out in twenty minutes. After about half an hour of snoozing and more blowing he woke, then when she finished him off he gritted his teeth and seethed out that it hurt like hell. She quit and let him turn off before wrapping him up in her blanket of arms and rocked him to sleep with the waves rolling her hull gently.

He slept for a long time, well into the afternoon. When he woke up he was hit with a playful ‘punch’ from Severstal’s vagina tendril.

“Morning sexy.” He smiled and tried to wither his way out of her mummy bag of arms but she didn’t budge. “Going somewhere?”

“Uh-yes-the bathroom.”he pushed as hard as he could but she didn’t move. “I really need to tinkle, honey.”

“Use this,” she grunted demandingly shoving her vaginal tendril to his protruded morning wood head.

“No! Ah no! That’s disgusting!” He protested and rolled so she couldn’t slide on him.

“Just do it! Or would you prefer my mouth? Just-just piss already! Take me damnit!”

“No you’re being disgusting! How could you like that or want that!? Why can’t I go to the head!?” He demanded, he wasn’t going to piss inside her, that’s intolerable to him.

“Because you could wander! I don’t want you to wander about right now! I want you where I can control you and hold you!” She retaliated. “Now let me fuck that already it’s driving me nuts!” He stopped squirming and let her ride his disco stick with a disgruntled tempered frown on his face, he still enjoyed the morning bang, though. Right as he came a very small appendage inside her vagina extended into his gushing dick mouth and waited for his joy to cease squirting. When he stopped he felt it and screamed questioning its purpose.

“It’s used to force ejaculation for reproduction! I’m using it to force your bladder to empty!” She began its function of sucking and electrifying the area to numb it. Slowly but surely he began whizzing.

“Agh! Errr! Fuck you Severstal!” The piss stung not because of the entity but what it was that was pissing out.

“You did sweetie. Quite a lot in three days. It’s good progress if you ask me.”

“I thought you held yourself at high standards.” He rhetorically said still ewe about the piss he finished inside his lover.

“I do, but I know where it’s going so I’m not bothered, and I’ve got something special.”

“Alright I came…” He thought where it went… “Severstal… I c-c-cc-came..!”

“No don’t worry hun, it doesn’t go to any eggs.”

“So… we can’t have kids?”

“Oh no we’ll have hundreds of kids. I routed it to the sewage bilge tanks, that’s all.” He sighed in relief, and then the hundred kids hit him.

“We’ll have three, five or six at most.” He said seriously. She simply laughed and sighed.

“I know, I know, but I’m having around five little tots with or without you, just maybe not all at the same decade.” She said confident, Anatoly wasn’t so sure. She kept him lying there for a quarter of an hour before she freed him. “Now… Go to the kitchen.” She said, her tone meant she had surprise. He shuffled into the kitchen and smelt the aroma of a freshly cooked breakfast.

“No, no you didn’t!” He walked into the mess hall where a plate of pancakes, stack of cooked eggs, and a bowl of cooked meats.

“Yes I did sweetheart.” He was sat down in front of the food, still naked, and that implored Severstal to also be ‘naked’ for some reason. “I feel like I should be naked.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well you’re naked, so, why aren’t I?”

“You don’t have to.”

“And I don’t want to so put these on.” She tossed some boxers at him and watched him put them on. Then she found she couldn’t stop eyefucking his enormous boxer’s bulge in between his legs.

“So why’d you cook this morning?”

“A thanks.”

“For?”

“Last night.”

“Ah! Oh and why are you staring at my penis? You know what it looks like.” He saw the camera focusing a little lower than his bent over body head position.

“I know but- but there’s something about it… it’s just so interesting to look and think about.” He smiled and chuckled then dug in to the plate. He offered to share but she respectfully declined the food. Once he finished he dressed and thanked her greatly then started to maintain her, cleaning and tinkering her internals. He worked all day but took a lunch break with Severstal up on the surface for some fresh air. He was standing on the observation deck admiring the view and watching the water slap and roll around her bow in its white foamy plume.

“You’ve made a sailor out of me, honey, you really have.” She wrapped around his waist and put a hand in his, the sea mist and breeze had made his skin cold and wet but hers were warm and dry.

“I knew I did, I just wish we didn’t have to go back, and that you could stay with me on the open blue.” They enjoyed the moment and dreamed; oh how wonderful that’d be. “Hey sweetheart, don’t you still live with your parents?”

“Yeah and my brother, apartments are hard to find out there. Why?”

“Why don’t you move in?” The two smiled lovingly and cuddled a bit more, Anatoly thought about it; moving into Severstal.

“I could…”

“Please? Pretty please? I get lonely when you leave.” She tried sounding desperate.

“Oh okay, I’ll move in.”

“Hurray!”

“The old man’ll be glad I’m gone, mom will probably cling on.”

“Take your time, I won’t be going anywhere.” After he went inside she stayed up on the surface to relay a message to the Admiral in regards that Anatoly’s moving on-base but not into a barrack. She then dove beneath the waves and sailed on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, we are, damn that was good!”

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

“You don’t pull out-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait your asshole?”

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

“What the hell do you use it for?”

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

“How do you know that?”

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

“Anal.”

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

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

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

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

“No I’m not playing.”

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

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

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

“Wait here in port?”

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

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

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

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

“Play the game, right?”

“Yes what else?”

“Play with ‘you‘.”

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

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

“Well you haven’t seen me.”

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

“I wish I did bet down on that!”

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

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

“I wouldn’t have agreed to that!”

“So if you did what would you bet?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Again! That was fun!”

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

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

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

“Uuuhhhhggg!”

“You alright honey?”

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

“Hey uhh, Severstal?”

“What?” She sounded distraught and miserable.

“I did some looking around…”

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

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

“So that means..?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She slept like a baby and dreamt with her love on the topic of the birth and raising it, naming it, loving it. He was enjoying all of this until he suddenly snapped awake leaving Severstal in the coupled dream puzzled. He climbed out of her tendril jungle and woke her up gently.

“I woke up if you were wondering.” She didn’t respond immediately, thanking the two freighters that towed her. “So where are we?”

“On course, good morning daddy.”

“Hey I’m no dad yet, how are we going to pull this off?”

“Very carefully.” She chugged ahead of the two freighters as they adjusted their heading towards land. He went into the kitchen and started to make some cooked ham. “Hey, sweetheart?”

“Yes honey?”

“I-uhh, I think I’m hungry…” She was a little unsure of it, she’d never been hungry before and the strange urge to shove human meaty food into her mouth feeling that it would easy her twisting feeling in her mid-stern section, just ahead of her opening.

“Ummhmm, so how much ham do you want?” He started laying some slices into the pan. “One, two, three, four, five..?” She motioned more. “…six…seven…eight…nnniiinnneee..?” She retracted her arms and brought up a whole bag of ham.

“I feel like this, I want this.” He stood wide eyed. He turned to the small pan and turned off the stove top.

“Fuck that.” He carried the package to the engine room and dumped it onto a heated portion of piping and spread it evenly out and cooked it all fairly quickly. “It’s done babe.” She gathered them up and started eating, then devouring them.

“Mmm, really good, mmm.” She wolfed down the whole thing in a matter of minutes less then five, scaring Anatoly a bit. He decided to cook his breakfast there as well and waited as she fetched something else she craved to eat. He finished off his meal and heard scraping metal.

“Uh sweetie, what the hell is this?” She was shoving a metal bed frame down the hall.

“I DON’T KNOW!” She sounded scared almost but knew she needed to consume something metal to grow the child but, this already? “All I know is it looks delicious and I want it! I need your help dismembering it, please hun I need it!” He was cautious but recognized that the child was still made of metal and helped her remove pieces of the bed as she swallowed bit by bit.

“Do you think it’s wrong that I like this bed frame?” He paused and licked a piece, still tasted like coins, and remembered he couldn’t consume it like she could; he was still human.

“Hey honey, I uh, I’m not morph… We never did that.”

“Oh um…(gulp) do you want to do it now?” She offered as her mouth tendril chomped on a metal leg of the bed.

“Mmm, I don’t see why not anymore. Let’s do this.” He began removing his clothes while she finished her post and readied the correct manipulators.

“Are you ready sweetie?” She poised her injectors at the ready, inserting a nerve tap into his neck to try soothing him.

“Ready.” He held her hand tight as she sunk into him and pumped out. The process had been tried to be lessened in extreme pain. It had only gone from hell-ain’t-got nutin to holy-Jesus-why-oh-God and while Severstal also sharing in his pain only halved it and both were screaming away crushing one another’s hands. It was over sooner than they thought it was taking but once it was over she removed them and cradled her little morphed man feeling his increased weight with surprise. They calmed down and raced back to relax as Anatoly lost feeling in most of his body and was collapsing as a result.

“Here you go sweetheart, a nice soft mattress.” She laid him down on the first bunk they came across before her hunger forced her to continued eating the bed frame in the hall. She saw that the change in his body had left him trying to regain much control and feeling, and thought that she could maybe… jumpstart… a specific function in between his legs.

“I’m starving, honey, and I know what you mean now.”

“Mmmhmm.” She started fiddling with his soft member, twirling it around the base watching it thicken and stiffen. “Hmm, I wonder-”

“Wonder what? Why are you playing with me?”

“Just to help you… relax. Does it taste different?”

“So parched. I’m craving… oils?”

“Well then-” she plopped her vaginal tendril at his mouth. “Let’s drink our fill.” He closed his eyes and suckled on her wet split lips, purging them with his tender metallic-cored tongue. He sent shivers and shudders of good feeling throughout her hull as she waited ominously for his goodness member to rise to the occasion. Once it was erect to her liking she licked all over it, enjoying the new taste of metallic hints and flesh mix in an even more welcoming and homely texture to her. She tasted even more appealing to him, and even more filling and satisfying. Her glorious rush of precum soothed his stomach as he used his hand to milk her huge tube of nourishing sweetness, caressing it’s tender folds and walls to leak more into his mouth. He rubbed all around her insides until he found her clit and then began to focus tenderizing that for her, invoking her to moan and shudder at his cue. His feeling down under began returning to him and he melted away by her precious gentle stokes and teases. His eyes couldn’t hold open and they drifted closed, imagining her whole hull shuddering, quivering, reeling and calmly bucking to his doings of her soft spots. It was awesome. She toyed with his member some more, licking the shaft and stroking the head until it fully throbbed and Anatoly started moaning. Then feeling like he had control there again she slid him into her mouth, letting his head push against the back of her mouth as it straightened out to envelope him. She reached to his eyes and closed them with her fingers, then closed hers and let herself shudder as she slipped beneath the waves to the sex depth. He performed flawlessly even though he was getting himself a real thorough blow job, he licked and suckled, lapped and probed at her whole slit and innards, she was gliding up and down on him, exploring every vein, indent, curve, bulge and ridge with her tongue and held him firm in her lips as she pulled and pushed his member around. They were in total bliss, continuing on until they came in unison and stopped there for schedule’s sake. Still, it wasn’t enough for Anatoly, so Severstal primed a fuel nozzle and fed him that. Sure enough it didn’t take long before they sat in their next display dock and Anatoly was full and lively again.

They had a great time together sailing around Russia, and had lively nighttime pleasures almost every night. Each stop was filled with interesting and exciting people, and the coasts were beautiful and romantic. Each stop was uneventful compared to the final one. Anatoly was waving bye to the last group of tourists when Severstal frantically called to him. She hurried him to the radio room and played a message to him, it was from the Admiral.

“Hey you two..,” he sounded stressed, anxious, and heavily worried, “uhhuh, could you two come back…….., at uh full steam…….., this is urgent. I’m sorry but come back now. It’s an order.” With that the message ended, it offset Anatoly, too. They knew it wasn’t like a military operation, he wouldn’t act like that, and no this was something deep. They hurried out of port, banged for good luck, and put everything forth to home port. It took a few days to return home, all of them eventful nights, and came home to a foggy dock. It had just finished storming and when the fog visibility had reached the dockside, Severstal saw a dockhand, the Admiral twiddling his thumbs, and a strange man in a thick coat and full face mask standing at the position of American Parade Rest. As Severstal was moored into her old spot and anchored down the for rolled away. The Admiral was sleepless, tired, paranoid, and very, very concerned.

“Is everything alright, Yuri?” She never used the Admiral’s name unless she was serious.

“No no no no no. Nothing is good, nothing is good.”

“What’s wrong? What is it?” Anatoly was also scared.

“Last week..,” he trailed off he glanced over to the nearby garage where an orange American muscle car of the 60’s or 70’s was sitting. It rolled out and Severstal saw it was Olivia, the Admiral’s wife, and saw that she was very concerned, too. The Admiral looked back, “last we we were threatened. A rock flew through the window and had a note that talked about us either dying quickly or dying painfully slow within the hour.”

“How did you get here?” Severstal was worried, coming to the base was a good move, on duty personnel and checkpoints meant nobody was getting in, and with herself there nobody would dare try something.

“We scrambled out.., a neighbor call later and said we were raided by many men with guns.., weird guns…” Just then a little car, a bit shy of half Olivia’s size, came out and raced to the Admiral. He turned to it and knelt on his knees and pulled it up onto his lap and bent over. He whispered something to it as he hugged it, it was Rosina, his daughter, and she was crying and hugging her father tight at his stomach.

“So who’s this guy?”

“He is here to help, he went and got me some of our stuff from the house.., I can’t pronounce his name to save my life for some reason, but! he’s here to root out the anti-sents, he’s got big help, big and old help.”

“How old?” Asked Severstal with a smile, not much left around was as old as she was.

“Older than you and Olivia.., total.”

“So sir, what is your name?” Anatoly asked as Severstal moved him to her deck.

“My name is Patelo, at your service.” He turned to face them, and then he removed his mask and hood to reveal bright red hair and capturing eyes. “And I have to congratulate you on your expectation, by the way.”

Fin The Typhoon

Again that one part I put in for simplicity sake, I didn’t enjoy any of it and it still weirds me out.

Little Miss Daisy

by

I’ve finally got it! Here it is yall, the Churchill VII story I started way back at the beginning of June. I tried to put in a good bit of dialogue but please don’t expect it to sound like Sherlock Holmes I didn’t add in that much; I’ve never been to Britain. Forget the jibber jabber and explanations and here we go:

Little Miss Daisy

Rodney walked around the junkyard exploring his new job. Taking a summer job in between semester classes gave him something to do as well as make some money. He paraded around looking at all the old shelves, chairs, bed frames, sinks, tubs, bowl, then transitioning into the old bicycles, motors, cars, trucks, busses and such. He loved in history and was on his way to a major in historical science. He looked around gawking at it all, spitting out dates and eras, when his eyes fell on one of the most famous tanks of his country: the Churchill VII. It was very badly maintained if it was at all, the tracks were rusted and one was lying on the return roller cover, the whole thing was rusting but the cover and skirts were rusting to the point it was holing. The gun was mostly intact except for the muzzle and the machine gun mount, the turret still had a spare track link on it here and there but most of them slipped off and were lying on the hull. Its base green coat was still visible but faded and chipping; it looked like a crocodile covered in fire ants. Rodney frowned, nothing this legendary should sit like this, he moved closer and explored it, opening up some hatches with great trouble, he thought this old thing needs some tender love and care and it’ll look good as new! He peeked in and saw an almost pristine interior with a few rust covered leak points, but overall pristine. He moved to the engine; very few remained this intact and pretty with an engine, and after more trouble the Churchill was confirmed fully intact. Rodney reeled back.

“Bligh me! It’s all there! What is it doing in a junk heap out here? Well old timer I’ll see to your restoration.” His job was really just to be there, it was over populated with employees and many had nothing to do but sit on their hands and kick the dirt, no one would care he’d be working in the back on the tank. He got an overall list of problems: rust, rotten seats, new paint, new gas lines, new transmission gears, new hatch handles, new hydraulic gears, new gaskets, a complete tread overhaul and realignment was a start, who knows about the batteries, lights, wiring, and driveshaft. He began by gathering up loose pieces and sorting them out, then finding a rust cleaning kit from the shed and working on the hull. He noticed it was surprisingly warm, not blistering hot, but warm to the touch and when he started scraping and rubbing off the rust the metal it molded and responded to his hand giving him a sort of buzz. Clouds rolled over at around lunchtime, and so he moved inside the turret to eat his sandwich, beans, scone and drink some coffee, as he sat in the gunner’s seat he noticed some dust on the side wall. Rubbing it off he read ‘Little Miss Daisy’ and a tally of three marks under it. “Little Miss Daisy, I wouldn’t think little quite fits the Churchill.” The tank seemed to shift side to side, followed by the loudest yawn Rodney has ever heard.

“Yeeawwhhmm, mmm, oh my. So, I assume you’re the one to be massaging my sides?” Rodney felt great.

“Why yes I’m the one, a great pleasure to meet you Miss Daisy.” He wasn’t shocked at all, one of his friends in school was a humorph, and he had the coolest father; a Centurion Mk III, and a humorph mother that was pretty cool as well.

“Well I’m very great full of your deed, mister-”

“Rodney, please, just Rodney.”

“Well then thank you Rodney.” He shifted, even against the rain pattering on the roof her voice was beautiful, and her complement made him blush.

“Oh it’s nothing, really. It makes me cringe to see such legendary history rot away like this.”

“Why does it trouble you? Many have walked past without your type of reaction.”

“I love history, while culture is my primary I like the whole veil of things. I don’t know much about Churchills, but I know their basic principles.” They talked as he ate, he learned much of her history, role, and her kills (a Marder II, a half track, and a Panzer IV), and he told her of his growing interest in history, his major, his past, and soon after the rain cleared and he went back to scrubbing away. He got the whole left side of her hull cleaned of rust and paint leaving her bare gray. He came back the next day and had brought in paint per her colour request; a base tan-brown color, for a barrier against the weather. He applied the paint with her help, and finished painting in a couple of hours. After that he started getting the rust off her other side, and reminiscing the heightened enjoyment Daisy showed towards her rear getting rubbed. He finished that in the day and devised a plan to clean the tracks and spare ones. At the end of the week all her rust was gone from her outer hull and her base paint applied, her seventeen pounder gun muzzle was removed and her hatch handles were left there because of her sensitivity there, the seats were out and discarded. Rodney asked if her belly was clean, knowing it was her private region, and she assured him it was spotless. He worked the best he could on her, and did a good job, too, but he struggled with her engine and transmission assembly along with her tracks.

One day as Rodney was checking her suspension he asked her why she was in such a place. “I chose this; I saw no more reason for my existence. New and better tanks were on the field, new anti-tank guns were afoot, pin point missiles took the skies, and infantry zipped around the battlefield. I had no purpose anymore. I went into depression and got myself here.” Rodney nodded; he didn’t want her to die like this, not to just rot again in a scrap heap.

“Why don’t you come out with me? Get into Bovington? The tank museum.” She sort of shrugged her covers. He went to her engine and started scrubbing it of rust, she was quiet. She was pondering going with him, only him, he was sweet and gentle, fertile and promising, and actually cared. She turned her turret around and watched him crawl in with the hatch leaning on his back as he looked and scrubbed. His scrubbing made her feel good inside, she welcomed the old feeling of pleasure and love, she’d never felt intense pleasure but knew it got her going good on low days. He has done so much for her engine and she knew all he could have done was done but her engine would still be a mule to get on. Usually what she’d do is secretly rub herself tenderly until it turned over, but mostly she’d do it for fun. Rodney got all the rust he could out and popped out excited.

“Alright try it Daisy!” His excitement sparked hers and she tried to start it when a burning feeling in her gut ceased her.

“I can’t! It bloody hurts!” Rodney just realized his oversight.

“No fuel.” She realized as well.

“Oh well, not like I’d go anywhere anyways, the treads are locked up.” The treads were lined up in front of her near a huge vat awaiting treatment. Rodney had ordered antirust in a huge gallon and expected it to be waiting when he got home.

“Well, the antirust should have arrived by now.., I could try to get it.” Daisy smiled. “I’ll go get it, then.” He went off and was let out, the overseer felt it was too crowded anyway, and Rodney went home to grab the huge gallon packages of it, and drove back in time to fill the vat and use her help to submerge the treads.

“I’m so eager, Rodney! I never thought I’d do this again!” She was bouncing around on her many many suspension mounts, so many in fact the nickname of armored centipede came around for a brief time. He felt a sort of attraction to her; she was interesting, comfortable in character, helpful and motivating. Seeing her this excited and happy made him feel warm and gooey inside, he loved the feeling. They discussed how they’d get the tracks back on her for the remainder of his extended shift then he left; the tracks would be done in the morning or so. When they parted both felt painful and sorrow, learning to hate parting.

That night Rodney got home with his gut burning, it started when he left Little Miss Daisy and got progressively worse the further he got. He went to the bathroom and sat on the john waiting for that burning feeling to dump out but after ten minutes he quit and went to the bed. On his nightstand sat a condom package, something made him feel the need to take it tomorrow. Compelled by weird new feelings strong going and faithful, he put the condom in his wallet, changed clothes, and slept once his head hit the pillow. In the morning he had the fiercest morning wood after a dream of driving around with Daisy, it didn’t subside after his piss, shower, or breakfast, it frightened him, but he felt it was partly due to his reoccurring thoughts of Daisy. He let it subside as he drove to his junk job with great perks. He stopped and got gas, was compelled to get another condom and female performance enhancers, and then went to the yard. He knew nothing was really going to happen and the need of the enhancers wouldn’t be needed for Daisy, even if she was over seventy years old, metal beings would stay as energetic as a human in their mid-twenties, as long as they are physically maintained or healthy, making him think about Daisy’s state being her bad condition. Her voice really gave nothing to her energy but instead her reactions during the actual intercourse, otherwise there’s nothing. He got an idea and stopped by another store before he went to the junkyard. He marched up to Daisy’s point and was met by a very eager temptress of a tank.

“Rodney! They’re finished! Fill me up while I track myself.” She had her spares on her turret and was sitting on her treads, rolling them onto her rollers. He smiled and obeyed her order and filled her up with the noise and thoughts of her engine working getting him hard, Daisy noticed this as he accidentally leaned against her pouring in the last milliliters of the gas tank, and smiled hopefully. She got the tracks on and felt as the last drops of fuel from the gas tanks slipped down the neck. She was ready, she wanted to run again, she wanted to move, she wanted Rodney to do it, she wanted him to enjoy his work, and her body was ready. They tried the engine, it failed to catch every time, even when she wanted it too and tried her damn best.

“Bloody hell, was it something I did?”

“No, it’s always done that.” She sighed just before a dirty smile formed on her face. “Usually I give it a.., jumpstart..,”

“Okay.., so do it.”

“I think that maybe this time, I could get some help.” She was looking at him seducingly, he met her gaze and it didn’t say no. He started to untuck his clothes; she licked her lips as her mouth watered. She took his hand and led him up onto her skirt and had him kneel down.

“A little cleaning first?” He asked.

“A taste test for me and a scrubbing for you.” She could hold back no more as he shoved himself into her lips. She let nothing stand between them as she reeled him in, instantly starting to suck and blow on him, and looked up at him with her green eyes giving a little enjoyment cue. He let his head slip back a little, moaning as he held her turret away while slowly thrusting into her. He was on his knees and strained to get his meat low enough into her mouth while still mobile, but they made it work with a little stretching on both ends. His left hand was on her turret roof and he moved his right to grab her gun barrel, and she had relaxed her skirt on her treads and tried to lift her suspension. He looked down at her, she was looking at his cock sliding into her mouth for her to taste, suck, blow, rub, and toy with but would occasionally glance up to him then close her eyes to savor him.

“Oh yeah Daisy, oh yeah.” He moaned out, Daisy giggled and felt him start to thrust sporadically and his cock start to tense and quiver. She accelerated his countdown by sucking more and quickly rubbing his cock in a cupped tongue, until he came into her mouth. He pulled out just enough where most went into her but some landed on her faceplate. She closed her eyes and felt the tingle on her tongue and the warm comfort on her face, and then she looked into his eyes as she swallowed and moaned in delight.

“All clean now, again?” She asked hopefully, she’d never had sex before but she knew that sucking cock was her favorite. He reached into his pants around his ankles and removed a small square package.

“Maybe later, now let’s get you going.” She looked a little depressed but it was a marginal let down, all she cared then was she was going to get pounded, and pounded by a man she would grind again and again and again. He slipped down and went to her rear but she stopped him halfway.

“Woa there, not down there..,” she took his hand and led him to her bow, “it’s over here.” She slid a panel under her bow. Rodney knelt down and saw a small dripping slit on the underslope, one of her manipulators was slowly rubbing a little gray ball at the top.

“I have an idea, wait one moment.” He hobbled off picking up his pants, Daisy closed her eyes and thought of his thick, long, hard dick way deep in her little pussy and this alone mad her pussy hotter, wetter, and squirm around an imaginary cock. She opened her eyes as Rodney drug around an ataman, she got the reason. When he got close enough she yanked down his trousers and laid him on the ataman and pulled it under her where she could see his face. She lifted up as he slid on the condom and fit it right, and then she let herself drip hot silver vaginal coolant onto his lap. He tried to get himself in but she held him there, slowly she bent his cock up and came to rest with her slit on his cock parallel to it. She slowly rolled up and down him, watching his face melt into bliss, her own face and body relaxed to her movements, too, and he saw her face show she enjoyed it just as much as he did. Once his whole length was wet and slick she lifted up and held his cock in her hand as she lowered back onto him, for her first penetration. She gripped him tight as she felt him break her lips apart, then he stopped her as she placed him against a sensitive barrier.

“What? Don’t you back out on me!”

“No I won’t, but, this isn’t supposed to be here is it?” He knew a bit about machine anatomy, although varied they all share a common standard.

“No, it’s not. It’s what you’d call a virgin wall. It will hurt, which is why it is still there.” Rodney shifted.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He paused. “I could just eat you until the engine runs then we can get that cut out-”

“I don’t want someone I don’t know cut it, I want someone I like to pierce it, I’ll be fine, please, we need this Rodney.” Their eyes met, she wasn’t bluffing or showing and signs of doubt. He nodded. She lowered a bit more, the pain made her halt but she forced herself not to let up, she knew she couldn’t push herself any further. “Rodney! Do it! Just do it! Bloody Christ’s sake!” He acted to her face of pain and crying voice. He first pulled back to ease her pain but knew she didn’t want that, so he thrusted up with all his might.

“Daisy!”

“Rodney!” She screamed as her virgin wall tore open and she fell to her ‘knees’ on Rodney, pushing the ataman feet into the dirt a little. Rodney was sent into bliss as his whole dick sat and cooked in her tight glorious pussy, he moaned as she shifted around making sure the entire virgin wall was open. He looked in her eyes and saw a veil of pain but beneath it was a message of joy, desire, love, and the things that made her pain worth it to her. She lifted up and moaned as his size and presence was eagerly welcomed. Rodney looked down and saw not just the silver vagina coolant but a more brownish silver fluid, thick and hot; her blood.

“Daisy, you’re bleeding!” He didn’t know what to do, it was rare that a machine would actively bleed, except in childbirth for some cases, but mostly it took extreme damage to a very vital ‘organ’ in the system.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. I in fact feel better now.” She stroked his hair eyes closed and face looking bliss again. She moaned as he pushed his whole member back into her, maybe even to stop her bleeding he hoped. She felt the condom on him, it’s subtle and defying presence wasn’t tolerated by Daisy, so she decided to try to shred it off him.

“Oh Daisy, fuck.” He moaned out as Daisy massaged his cock inside her. Her internal muscles were contracting on him in patterns and movements like corkscrew, milking, twist, wave, and such, tearing off his condom. She tore bit by bit off until she got it all off and then ejected it out behind his shaft unbeknownst to him. Meanwhile Rodney lacked any drive to all out fuck her, he wanted to do that, yes, but sitting here with his cock being groped by this great gal was real good; he’d need more from her. He saw her clit bulb and smiled, engine vibrations and noise was all he needed. He reached down with his right hand and cupped the clit bulb, then he rubbed it around in between his middle and ring fingers before one of her hands shot to his. She moaned loudly, encouraging him to keep going and herself holding his hand and going faster, Rodney watched as her eyes rolled in her turret. Not long into it her pussy began to spasm out, gripping his cock hard for a second then back to the tight hold, this gave Rodney a great amount of pleasure and Daisy a spike of mass adrenaline.

“Oh yes Rodney! Oh yes Rodney! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t stop no matter what! Don’t stop!” Suddenly her engine started to kick and turn, then it erupted in a loud roar and was idling at full RPMs; Rodney wanted her so much more then. He resisted the urge to stop and pound her pussy in but he was one who kept his word, he rubbed harder and harder, pushing in on her softer region. Her grip on him squeezed, his cock felt like it was growing in reference to her pussy, it felt huge, then her loud moans reached a scream as her orgasm hit her hard. She squirted out on his lap and the ataman, warming his core up nice and making him feel accomplished. “Rodney don’t st-”

“I’ll make you spray, baby!” He pushed her up then he dropped down and started pounding her. They fucked for two hours, just constant pounding, he came many loads into her thinking he still had the condom on. He wouldn’t pull out for anything because one, she didn’t want him to, and two she felt way too great to try it. She came not as much as he did but she had her share. She would even start humping back when he slowed, but it was the vibration of her engine, it’s noises, her cries of joy, and her attractiveness that powered Rodney to keep going. During the time Daisy thought he was too good to be true many times, but with how long he was going and the intensity to her plea corrected her thoughts; he wasn’t leaving her. She wanted to bear his child badly and easily could have; her vagina was lined with his seamen, but didn’t know if he could support one. At the end of the second hour Rodney noticed that her suspension was shaking and her wheels were pointing inward, he saw it as her knees buckling. He knew if she fell it wouldn’t be far and either the ataman world break, or it would sink into the dirt, or probably both. He reached down again and stroked her clit, she grew louder and very soon after came for the last of the session. Her suspension gave and she fell right onto him and pushed the ataman into the dirt. They sat in quiet catching their breath as Daisy used her pussy to jerk off him one last time.

“Oh Rodney, that was spectacular. You did make me spray, again and again.”

“Oh I fucking love you, Daisy. I fucking love you so much.” She smiled and completely settled down on him. They interlocked hands and looked at each other.

“Rodney, I don’t like condoms. They don’t feel right.”

“Next time I won’t wear one then, or any time after now.” She giggled.

“You weren’t wearing one this time.” She winked. He was confused. “I ripped it off you and got it out.”

“So I-”

“Yes babe, and I couldn’t be happier.” Her eyes told Rodney she was lying.

“I’m sorry next time I’ll pull-”

“Well I could be happier, I would be as happy as could be a mother.” She looked at him beggingly, she was nervous of his answer almost dreading it. He was quiet as he thought, Daisy tried to sway his answer by gripping his cock more, stroking his hair, hugging him tight against her, and using a begging face.

He shook his head no.

“I can’t. I can’t right now.” Daisy stopped, she teared up. “I am sorry, I’d love to father by you, but, I’ve got things to focus on before that.” She nodded. He leaned up and hugged her tenderly.

“I understand.”

“Look baby, I’ll start up a family when I get a better job, I don’t want to risk failing a baby because we can’t feed it.” She hugged back. “Mark my words, once I’m done with college and settled in we’ll have one.” She perked up a little. “And I’ve kept my word haven’t I?” She felt better, better about their future, their relationship, better about everything. They rested there, after she finished him off for the session, and napped. They woke after a half hour and he dressed, she didn’t want him to leave and that sparked a thought from him.

“I got you a gift!” He handed her the bag he brought. The first thing she pulled out was the female performance boost.

“A little late for this, isn’t it babe?” He laughed.

“No baby not that, the other thing.” She looked again and pulled out a smartphone.

“What the bloody hell is this?”

“It’s like a radio, really small and it can send typed words, too. It’s called texting.” He proceeded to show her how to use it, what it all did, how she could ghetto charge it with her injector needle’s electric power output, and finally he gave her his number to talk to him.

“Nice, so.., anytime I want you, I text you and you answer?”

“Yes or call me.”

“Any time and for anything?” She wondered if they could ‘change oils’ anytime they wanted.

“Probably, yes.” They kissed goodbye and Rodney left for some olive drab paints to paint her with the next day. He was at the store when she texted him.

You could pant me white

Pant?

Paint me white

Thy dnt hve wite

What

Oh you don’t know txt talk.

No how did you get the punctuation

Press the 123 button in the bottom left.

Thanks! Now come paint me white tonight!

No white paint. Ran out.

Not with paint.

With what?

Sperm is white. <3 I made a heart.

-_- Really?

Yes! I want you so bad!

How bad?

I want you inside me at every good hole! My mouth mostly, but also in my vagina and even my exhaust pipes! I want to eat you and then I want you’re massive size in my bow and my arse! Please babe!

You like the ! don’t you?

No. I mean it.

Well… okay I’ll see you soon.

<3<3 () c==8

8=====D () mines bigger.

They started sending each other longer dick messages before she ended it with a vagina picture tagged with ‘its waiting.’ He wanted to fulfill her fantasy but knew physically he couldn’t, he could die from a popped blood vessel. Other than time he knew only one other option. “Baby I need you to penetrate me.” Her face was bewildered. “You need to convert me.” She frowned; she really didn’t want to hurt him.

“Babe I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I hurt you for our love, now I want you to hurt me. Please baby, please.” He knelt down. Closing her eyes, she did it. When it was done he was trembling by her side. She scooped him up and cuddled him against her face, kissing his belly. She noticed something probing her below his belly. “I’ve got a thank you gift, baby.” She smiled and unzipped his pants and instantly began sucking him off. For an hour he let her enjoy his candy, then he went to her pussy sand hit that for any other hour, then to each of her two exhaust pipes and banged each for an hour per pipe. Then she begged to taste him again and that was the finale. At around four AM she spat him out.

“Bloody Christ. Rodney I want so much more but I’m full, my tanks and my belly are full.” She looked him in the eyes, desire still filled them. “I liked the pipe, fuck me there, again.” He got on his knees and crawled to her rear. Her turret face followed. “And Rodney, could we slow down this time? He nodded.

“We should wrap up for bed.” Her face lit up.

“Let’s spoon after this!” He lined up with her pipe hole, still oozing from his previous visit, and slid himself into her constricting hole. She winced with a smile as he pushed through. Normally the pipes reached water boiling temperatures but because of coolants flowing through everything Daisy was only hot, not burning, and this felt very relaxing for Rodney. He laid down on her engine roof as she threw a rain tarp over herself, cutting her engine off. He started to fall asleep to her gentle throbs in her pipe when he changed his mind.

“Baby, why the arse? Why not the vagina?”

“I don’t want you on that filthy ground! It’s vile and disgusting. Stay here, babe, I like this.” She wrapped her arms around him; he shrugged and went to sleep in her pipe.

As the summer progressed he applied the green splotches of paint on her but then their progress of refitting slowed and changed focus to loving and being together. Rodney had decided to move out of his apartment and move in to a garage big enough for Daisy and him, it would be tight but they’d manage. One day he topped off her fuel and told her the plan, she was excited but looked nauseous. They slowly started moving down the narrow paths; Daisy was complaining the whole way.

“Oh this is so dirty! Eww eww eww eewww! Gross!”

“It’s just some dirt, dust and mud, it’s not bad here.”

“Oh it is way worse than when I came here! Euhg this is disgusting! Can we clean it up, or something? Go another way? This is grooss! Eww I’m sinking in it! Ewg it’s touching me! Ahhg get it off Rodney!” She squirmed around in it, it wasn’t bad at all. She complained every meter, going on and on about the filth. “It’s getting everywhere! It’s just as bad as France!”

“Now I know why you’re Little Miss Daisy, could you chin up from here on to the garage? A crying tank won’t be very good for public view.”

“Promise to clean me first thing in the garage! Promise and I’ll shut up.”

“I’ll make you squeaky clean, baby.” She quieted down.

“You know, babe, the dirt gets everywhere. It may take a while to-” mud splashed onto her bow and chin, “pleh, ah, it will take a while to clean all the nooks and crannies. You better clear out the rest of the night.” He patted her turret to say yes. They got up to the front gates and none of the other guys knew that there was a tank in the back, let alone a living one. They treated her like a wrongfully convicted prisoner and let her out hastily; apologizing for things they had no clue of. Rodney got off and got into his car, it was a little 1976 red Volkswagen Beetle. He tied a rope between his car and Daisy so they wouldn’t separate and then they left. They weren’t stopped at all, only looked at funny by the one officer they passed, but they say on the side of the road until they arrived. It wasn’t too shabby yet wasn’t exquisite, it was cozy, and there was an adjoining garage with a guy who really loved his green and black Maserati, that he never drove, and would constantly be working on something that probably exceeded his mechanical affinity and needed no attention. He’d be blasting his music and standing in the open door in an oily tank top, baggy shorts, tube socks, a beanie cap over his shoulder length curly hair, and slide on Airwalks calling to any chick walking by. Rodney felt some sympathy for the guy and walked up to him, he was staring blankly and in disbelief at Daisy, he didn’t know she was alive but that his new garage neighbor has a tank.

“Hey buddy, how’s it goin?” The guy nodded. “Listen, I recommend going on home for the night. It’s ah, going to get a lot louder than your music can go.” He nodded again and went back into his garage to close it up. Rodney then turned Daisy around and backed her into their new home.

“Lovely, a very lovely place here. Your stuffs not to cramping or crowding and makes this feel homely.” She looked around, he’d barely brought much; just a refrigerator, oven, microwave, bed, bookshelf, and a nightstand, the bathroom latrines were part of the garage. “Oh look a drain, too.” There was a drain in about the middle of the garage. Rodney rolled up his sleeves and got some cleaning things.

“Where can’t I go yet, baby?”

“Nowhere, you’re my man and with that you can go anywhere and everywhere on me.., or in me.” She winked and smiled. With that he washed her down, it wasn’t much on her, and it simply washed off without any soap, which gave them more time to make love. They talked some more about the time for a baby, Rodney wanted to have it when his job was set and Daisy wanted to have it asap, like that night asap, and her main point was college is free and he had a good job now. His rebuttal was he’d earn less pay with his slackened hours and would be focusing more on school.

“Well you’re not changing my standpoint point, Rodney; you can kiss my arse on that.” He did, he planted a kiss right square in the middle of her ass. She jumped, his warm lips felt strange there, but were always welcomed there again. “On that note, choose your first poison, babe.” He decided to try something new that night. He went to her bow and crawled under.

“You love eating me so much; I think I’ll give it a go myself.” With that he closed his eyes and drug his tongue up her slit, drawing approving moans from Daisy. She quivered as each of his heavenly licks went deeper and deeper into her vagina; she looked down and saw his waist nude and his cock hard, erect, and tasty. She wanted to eat him even more then but it wasn’t possible, or was it?

“Babe, hold on!” He didn’t stop, he planted his open mouth on her pussy lips and sucked good as his tongue searched deep inside her. He did this until her clit bulb pushed against his lips strong then he moved his lips to it and sucked on that real good and played around with it using his tongue. She knew she could not stop him so she took his long thick shaft in her hand and started a hand job. She worked his shaft fast, and thought of a way to get it in her mouth as soon as possible. She focused on her own joy, getting off as soon as she could, she stroked herself, let him ram his fingers into her tight pussy, fondled her nozzles and exhaust pipes, and braced for the strongest orgasm she’d ever felt. Her whole body quivered as she held it in, she would make it at least count, and went faster until she exploded on his face and went limp. Then she started her plan.

“Babe, you rocked me so hard, I need to piss.” She was close enough to a oil change, a week or two ahead wouldn’t hurt. He groaned as he got up and got a tray for her to release in. As her boiling hot oil streamed out under her force he got harder, visualizing the black oil as her silver cum and wanting to make her cum more and more, that’s when a large tendril snaked into his vision. It had a long vertical slit and a bulb at the top, it was dripping silver coolant; her secondary.

“Shall we 69 it?” He smiled as he climbed on and let her move him against her face, he grabbed her tendril and plastered it to his mouth like it was an oxygen mask. They did this all night, although Rodney had to sleep for work in the morning, but Daisy sucked his candy all night long, enjoying every second of it. They went through the summer living comfortably there, to save on money Daisy insisted that she not have any fuel. After much pressure by her he agreed and while the sex could be a little painful at times she rather felt safer without constant fuel in her tank. Soon before they knew it classes started up again, and Rodney’s pay lowered along with his hours, the time he wanted to be with Daisy was still there except he spent most awake time studying or working. One day he went out early to get Daisy a birthday gift and ran into his humorph school friend.

“You know Rodney, the car goes in the garage, right?” They laughed and hugged.

“Bloody hell it’s been years, Carson!”

“Three years, three years.” He looked back to the beetle car. “Still that old clunker scrap?”

“Yes, yes, still my little Beanie Butt runs better but not as good as my girl in there.” He pointed to the garage.

“Yeah I was about to ask who changed you, so tell me who the lucky lady is?”

“Her names Daisy and she’s a Churchill seven.” Carson was pleasantly surprised.

“Wow, she’s mighty beautiful then, you know if my pop hears she’s around the two will never stop talking.” They laughed some more knowing it’s true. “Ah well call me later, I’m late for a meeting as it is.” They parted, and they went about their ways. School was always easy for Rodney, and college was easy alone and even easier with Daisy, who can give first hand radio accounts of certain subjects and someone to relieve stress with. He wanted to thank her in so many ways and as much as he could but she never asked for much or anything extraordinary, just oil and some cleaning, and of course sexual favors happily fulfilled. Time flew by and before the two knew it the term was over, he graduated at the top of his class and that landed him the job he wanted oh so badly. That first weekend off from his job he knew he could make up the entire wait his wife Daisy had, and it’d be on the one year anniversary almost, too. He came to her Friday night with the proposal.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Finally, yes!” She was very excited, after so long they were finally having a child. They had long worked out the names and that it’d be a humorph so they got right to it, she didn’t try to go for any of her enjoyment, she quickly got him to cum deep inside her where she opened for him and felt great, terrific, extraordinary as she became impregnated by her husband. After that they had some real fun for the rest of the night all the way into the morning sun. They repregnated regularly, and after a long ten months, a month longer than expected, Daisy gave birth to fraternal twins, a boy Churchill VII and a girl humorph. They were pleasantly surprised.

“Just our luck, we hoped for one and got two.” Rodney said holding his daughter Rebecca in his arms.

“I know isn’t it a miracle! Just simply marvelous, splendid! Oh isn’t life astonishing?” She was tired and holding her son Gregory on her engine roof cleaning him off.

“It’s interesting,”

“Hmm?”

“How Rebecca got all my influence, Gregory got none.”

“I think they’re two separate eggs.” She kissed his lips. “And that you need to call grandmum, proud daddy. Give me my baby girl, mum wants to hold her babies.” He carefully gave her Rebecca and went to the phone. He picked up the phone and looked at his family; Gregory was about a sixth of his mother’s size and his sister Rebecca was clinging to his side as their mom threw over a blanket on the shivering infants. Her bright green eyes combed over the children looking for any signs of need. She breast fed Gregory and bottle fed Rebecca. “Can we turn up the heater? Our babies are cold.” As the phone rang Rodney turned the heater up a notch and heard his mother on the other end.

“Hey grandmum-” she hung up after that. He tried again and again but only got the answering machine. Soon Daisy fell asleep and about twenty minutes later there was a knock at the door. Rodney answered and a slumping, shrewd looking old woman with white hair and a mahogany cane looked up at him and smiled wide.

“There’s my boy! Where’s my daughter? And why the bloody hell did you call me grandmum? Do I have grand babies yet?”

“You know mum its two-eleven in the morning. Didn’t you think Daisy would need some rest afterword?”

“I know how exhausting it is! That’s why I’m trying my best not to yell.”

“You’d be a perfect New Yorker, mum.” He said as she pushed her way inside. She waved it off and hobbled over to Daisy’s side quietly and looked at her grand babies.

“Ooh, they’re adorable! Oh Roody they look so beautiful!” She whispered to him, she may look like a ruthless hag but she wasn’t that bad of one, she was kind and respectable but would get her way if she felt like it. “They’re twins! What are they?”

“That’s Gregory, and that’s Rebecca.” He pointed to them, respectfully.

“They’ll grow to be big and strong before your eye, Roody. Mark every moment.” They talked quietly until grandmum went home after an hour and Rodney climbed up with Daisy and went to sleep. She hugged him tight as he snuggled up with his kids.

“We made the best things in the world, babe, the best things.” Rodney thought back on his life accomplishments, none of them even came close to this one. If he added up all the worth of the previous milestones they wouldn’t still come close to this one. He remembered one of the last things his mother told him that morning; they’ll never cease to amaze you, Roody, never.

The next morning they were woken by a screaming Rebecca, Gregory started crying because of Rebecca but calmed down way ahead of his sister. They knew he’d be more the quiet type right then but out of curiosity Daisy started talking to him.

“Can you say mumma? Say mumma, c’mon little Greg-Greg say mumma? Dadda? How about dadda?” Rodney was going to say he’s only twelve hours old when Gregory said mumma.

Fin LMD

That little bit at the end is to show that the machine infant grows exponentially faster than a human at every level. Gregory will be equivalent to a twenty year old adult by the time he’s twelve and fully developed at thirteen. Rebecca is slightly faster in growing mentally mature compared to a standard human baby. She will take the same amount of time to physically grow, however.