Liberation Union Mobile Firebase Delta Foxtrot

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Magda could see the dark fury rising in Emily's face. "They have a much better shot now, right? They've got us - not just the Union, but you, me Patune and Scyllia, right?"

The captain pushed her field chair back from the little table and stepped around to stand beside the younger pilot and drop one arm across her shoulders and pull her shoulder to Magda's hip. "You're who's going to get them loose, without the painful road to freedom you had to walk."

She spun the tablet back to this side of the desk and activated it again. She zoomed out the last view to include the river, "Can Scyllia get us both here?" She asked, marking a spot near the outpost in the river. "That way we can slip in and figure out if that is the food plant." A dark finger panned the view toward the ocean. "We can have the carrier drop us over here, and we can put Patune out with Flora and Granite - hopefully the brute won't get himself killed without me, but they'll be nearby and we can bail if we need to."

Payarkoon stopped suddenly, "Hang on! What if we just sneak in and turn down the amount of e-blockers once a week. Just never say anything, then show up calm and friendly after the dosage has been halved or something?"

[WickedCadrach]

Emily felt her shoulders tense as Magda wrapped an arm around her. The sensation wasn't unpleasant. No, it was the opposite, in fact. And feeling the press of Magda's shorts against her shoulder made a part of Emily want to lean back, to allow her dark pony-tail to be crushed against her captain's tank-top-covered stomach and to take the assurances and comfort for what they were. The other part, though, the part still eyeing the scans, iced over as the captain mentioned 'the painful road' she'd had to walk and with a blink that lasted just a little too long, Emily suppressed the memory of her own e-blocker detox.

Pain. She could do pain because she'd made herself hard enough to live with it. She had gotten used to hardness, crassness, steel, and painkillers... but softness? 

She listened to Magda's plan silently, the soft warmth of the older woman's waist as she stood behind her shoulder making Emily's blood rush just a little quicker.

A servo in Emily's neck began to misbehave as the conflicted feeling distracted her, and with an involuntary jerk, Emily's head turned ninety degrees, whipping Captain Payarkoon with the tied back length of brown hair before Emily was able to grab it. She mumbled an apology. "Damn cyber's acting up again. I'll get it locked down." 

Clearing her throat, Emily didn't look up, keeping her gaze on the scans to avoid the minor embarrassment, and wondering if Magda understood her cyber's quirks enough to guess at what it meant. "We can't just mess with the dosing every week. They'll know," Emily replied "It's how they keep control. Even if we pull some kind of masterful hack and the systems can't detect, as soon as some kid or rebel-minded adult starts acting up, the first thing they'll do is double-check the doses. Hell, some of them will probably be scared enough to self-report." Emily shook her head slowly. "I think you're right that our best bet is to infiltrate. We can turn down the dose for maybe a week before they realize. Not enough for a significant effect in the people, but enough to get our foot in the door and already have a week's lead when we take the base." 

Sweeping the map to where Patune and the remaining BioFrames would be held in reserve, Emily indicated the base walls. "I doubt they'll reinforce if they mean to use the outpost as a propaganda piece. Framing the story as a rebel attack is just as good as a kaiju incident. If the infiltration goes bad, we should be ready to bring the hammer down. Retreating again may provoke the Hive to do something stupid, like drop a missile on it and let the newsreels sort it out."

At that moment, Emily realized she'd overlooked something crucial. 

"Wait, did you say 'both' of us?" Turning in her seat, Emily raised an eyebrow looking up into Magda's dark eyes. God, she had pretty eyes. Refocusing, Emily's lip quirked to the side in a faint grin. "Are you planning to ride jump-seat in Scylla? She's not a war-class like Patune. It gets... cozy... in there."

[WritesNaughtyStories]

24 minutes ago, WickedCadrach said:

A servo in Emily's neck began to misbehave as the conflicted feeling distracted her, and with an involuntary jerk, Emily's head turned ninety degrees, whipping Captain Payarkoon with the tied back length of brown hair before Emily was able to grab it. She mumbled an apology. "Damn cyber's acting up again. I'll get it locked down."

"Relax." The captain said softly trying to soothe the younger pilot. "Stress. Nicstix. Both of us still worked up from the BioFrames - it's a lot." She paused, and smiled, "And not, I'm not coming on to you. At least not yet. I'll probably try that later, after we have this sorted out."

As Emily explained why weaning the outpost off the e-blockers completely without actually taking it over wouldn't work, the Captain listened closely. "This is why you're here - to keep me from getting anyone killed." She said, pursing her lips to one side as the fought chewing her lip. "So, we give it a week, move in with the war-classes and hold it, while we wean them the rest of the way off? With us there - say I can get a doctor from command and maybe a couple of medics - how long before we can safely have them completely off?"

 

34 minutes ago, WickedCadrach said:

"Are you planning to ride jump-seat in Scylla? She's not a war-class like Patune. It gets... cozy... in there."

"I am. I know, she's tiny, but the stories you've heard are true - my mother was pregnant with me when she took over piloting Patune when my dad was killed. I've been real cozy with frames for a long time." She gave a wink and a smile, "Pretty girls who smoke too much too, It's not just that it's bad for you - it's, uh, let's say distracting, for me."

The Captain turned swiped the slate to the requisition app, and thumbprinted access to the personnel system. "You, go get some rest - I'm going to see if I can get us a doctor."

She paused and looked up, "Would it be okay if I came up to your perch and came on to you later?"

[WickedCadrach]

17 hours ago, WritesNaughtyStories said:

"So, we give it a week, move in with the war-classes and hold it, while we wean them the rest of the way off? With us there - say I can get a doctor from command and maybe a couple of medics - how long before we can safely have them completely off?"

Emily closed her eyes. The question couldn't help but bring back flashes of her own detox. For just a moment, she was a fifteen-year-old girl again, shaking and huddled against the wall behind a mattress that was laid directly on the concrete. The doc hadn't trusted her not to open her wrist on the edge if they gave her a bed frame, and he was right to worry. Emily hadn't had the benefit of meds or leftover Hive rations to wean her down. She had been freed in a hit and run operation, emphasis on the run, and she was in the full throes of withdrawal when all the ordinary hormones of being a teenaged girl came crashing in, riding on on the agony of now being able to feel the loss of her mom and dad in the kaiju attack that prompted the LU's arrival.

For Emily, it had been three months of hell: Confinement, sedation, the indignity of being restrained while her nails were clipped to prevent the worst of the damage to her arms and legs as she picked at herself from the unbridled anxiety of e-blocker withdrawal. For the first week, she'd felt like she was in the middle of a prolonged heart attack, her clothing drenched in sweat as her chest hurt from the racing heartbeat that refused to let her sleep until exhaustion claimed her and panic woke her again. She'd hallucinated that her parents were alive, that they were trying to get her out but that the LU team treating her were keeping them away. And each time reality returned, she grieved their deaths all over again. 

By the ninth day, the worst was past. The anxious spiking of her heart still came on unexpectedly, but Doc Grim was able to start giving her more conventional meds to help. In retrospect Grim had been a saint for the way he guided her through, retraining her brain to handle the newly freed emotions the e-blockers had suppressed—though she viewed him at the time as a prison warden... In a flash that wasn't really a thought, Emily felt the pang of wondering if she'd ever let the old combat medic turned doctor know how much he'd mattered. She certainly hadn't at the time. Despite the control that came with his counseling, she was still a pain in the ass. As Emily left the med bay and began to be given tasks around the camp and later the carrier, she gained the practical experience in sharp words, slaps, and kicks to teach her to rein in the emotions she had. 

It was odd at the time... It felt like a contradiction to be told going off these meds, a process that felt like dying, was good for her... but then to be told she needed to learn to control these feelings instead. At one point, she begged Doc Grim to put her back on e-blockers. It was just too hard. He couldn't have even if he wanted to, but it didn't matter to Emily at the time. She had just wanted the pain to go away. 

She was full of hate, full of pain and rage with nowhere for it to go. And despite most of the withdrawal having passed in that first month, the desire to just end it... to just die and be done with the pain began to come back. Maybe Doc Grim noticed, maybe someone else had... or maybe it was pure coincidence the doc chose that moment to open up the archives to her. 

Until that moment, Doc Grim's words about the beautiful pain of emotion and the expression of spirit in art had sounded like pseudo-religious nonsense. But as Emily's fingers clicked through the physical drives holding the remnant of humanities ancestral pain and ecstasy... as she pulled a thumb drive marked with a black sticker and red marker that spelled a word that she didn't know... it made sense. 

Emily was in her second month of breathing free air when Lizzie Al-Azhar's powerful voice punched through screaming guitars and chaotically beautiful keys that fell like a chandelier shattering in slow motion and reached her soul. Emily wept and she sang along even though she didn't know the words... She finally understood. And she lived. 

"We can drop dosage for the first week, but if you don't want a hab-wide crash-out, you're looking at probably three months of very slow reductions before we can just cut them off." Emily sighed out the last phrase, wiping her face and leaning back, not quite realizing in her distraction the way her head now lay against Magda's waist. "We'll probably still have trouble... Case by case people can be helped, but you're going to have people in there that have never had to deal with anger, or jealousy, or sadness on their own. It's a battle in its own right."

When the captain followed up with a wink and assurance that she was more than comfortable getting 'cozy' in the flea-class BioFrame, Emily could feel the way her chest tighten for just a moment, her vision feeling more 'real' as her pupils dilated at the flirtatious admission at how distracting Magda found Emily's little vice. 

18 hours ago, WritesNaughtyStories said:

She paused and looked up, "Would it be okay if I came up to your perch and came on to you later?"

Emily stood from the table, crossing toward where Magda stood at the door. As she stepped closer, the three-finger difference in their height grew more obvious, and Emily traced the nearly invisible vines of Magda's dark irises with her gaze as she looked down.

This game between them was interesting, the captain having authority and the sort of compassionate affection for Emily reserved for those in a position to protect, while Emily had height, grit, and the confidence of the damned. It made the question of who was coming onto who a bit muddier, and moving forward felt like the sort of careful infiltration Emily was used to with Scylla, dense forest, murky waters, and mist obscuring the way ahead. And the thought Emily had earlier lingered: Maybe I can show her I don't need to be handled with kid gloves. 

Her eyes remaining on Magda's, Emily pulled the nicstik from her pocket again, the LED tip flaring green as she inhaled and released, the nearly silent operation of her artificial lungs sending the thin smoke through the vents in her neck as Emily lifted her chin out of pure muscle memory. 

"Diego's on watch," Emily said, her voice low, heavy with intent. "The others are on hand to corral that new Hive mech, so the pilot barrack should be quiet... if you don't wait too long... sir."

Reaching past Magda, Emily pressed the door release, smirking as she held the e-cig in her teeth and watched, holding her position as she silently goaded her commanding officer to be the first to turn and walk off.

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Personnel files weren't much of a thing in the Union. Hell, even the name Union was a stretch. They were hardly a coalition. What Magda knew of Emily's liberation was pieced together from snippets of conversations, what scant info was in her medical files and service record. What Magda knew for certain was it could not have been easy and none of them knew the Hive like she did.

"90 days?" She asked, looking at the young pilot. She looked at the tablet and flipped back to the map from her requisition. "That's a hell of a long time to hold that outpost against both the kaiju and the Hive. Until we can recruit some pilots from the outpost, you're probably going have to pend a lot of time in that new Hive frame." She looked up, "And that girl of yours is not going to be happy about that. But, there are going to be a lot of stand-up fights and I don't want either of you getting killed."

The captain rubbed her eyes with one hand, trying to force some clear, easy way to a victory for the inhabitants of the Hive's sacrificial outpost.

"Fuck, We have to hold it. They'll kill them all if we don't." Magda sighed. "Is it possible to sneak in say, weekly, for months and reduce the dosage even more slowly." Magda knew the answer without finishing the sentence. 'No. The Hive's maintenance crews will be in before the reductions will have any effect.'

"Yeah, no. That's no better." She looked up at Emily. "I need you to hold that drone and fill their news feed with us protecting the outpost. Once Gears gets Patune's mass driver working and we get that new frame jail-breaked, we're going back. For a long stay. Can you get together a primer on how we can not make this harder on those people than we have to?"

On 12/06/2025 at 17:44, WickedCadrach said:

"Diego's on watch," Emily said, her voice low, heavy with intent. "The others are on hand to corral that new Hive mech, so the pilot barrack should be quiet... if you don't wait too long... sir."

Reaching past Magda, Emily pressed the door release, smirking as she held the e-cig in her teeth and watched, holding her position as she silently goaded her commanding officer to be the first to turn and walk off.

Magda cocked her head to the side and gave an amused, suggestive smile.

"Yeah," she purred, willingly letting the younger woman get the best of her, "distracting." The captain set the tablet aside.

Leaning back in her chair, Magda gestured around the small room that acted as her office. "We're alone here already, and it seems you're feeling yourself a little."

Magda crooked her finger at her pilot with a shameless smile and twinkle in her eye, "Guess the real question is can I feel you too?"

[WickedCadrach]

Emily gave a short nod to the request for a primer. She wasn't a doctor, but those were in short supply and most were better equipped to deal with bullet holes than mental trauma. She made a mental note to see if she could get access to the archives. If the outpost had a propaganda center or servers they could repurpose then maybe they could help channel some of that emotional burden. It felt a touch insane to imagine the former Hive citizen crowded into a warehouse to watch A Requiem for Magnolia and learn what 'sweet tears' are while the LUST was outside the wall lighting up kaiju and repelling HIVE strike forces, but that might be exactly what they needed until they were detoxed and coached enough to be stable. The key was avoid crashing the population—as long as they could wean them down...

On 17/06/2025 at 11:16, WritesNaughtyStories said:

"We're alone here already, and it seems you're feeling yourself a little."

Magda crooked her finger at her pilot with a shameless smile and twinkle in her eye, "Guess the real question is can I feel you too?"

Fuuuuck... Emily felt her prosthetic heart tug against her chest as if fishing line were connecting it right to her commanding officer's curling finger. Sitting behind her desk with that damned smile, her tank top clinging to the softer curves and swells of her athletic body while her eyes stared into Emily's with more than a passing glance, it wasn't just Magda Payarkoon's words that dripped with invitation—and the office was her domain.

Emily held the nicstik in her lips, releasing one last exhalation as her palm swung back to clap the door control, closing off the chill mountain air with a quick snap of metal latches.

She tossed out a wink as well, another riposte in the soft posturing exchange.

"Careful, Captain. I'm a finger hazard." Emily's crooked smirk parted, giving a flash of teeth as she crossed the narrow office. Her boots landed like a heartbeat, a drawn out pulse that stretched the moment while she traced her fingertips on the edge of Magda's desk, slowly curling until the nail bit the wood and emitted a rough scratch like a growl... or a purr. 

As she reached Magda's chair, Emily didn't stop. She walked forward, her stare never leaving the midnight of Magda's gaze, until she was almost looking directly down at the other woman, until her knee met the edge of the swivel chair's seat and bent to find space for her shin to nestle against the muscle of Magda's exposed thigh. Emily's torn jeans gripped the edge of her captain's shorts and caused them to ride up just a little more from the tight contact, and the friction sent a fresh thrill through her core, her body already warm to the idea and growing hotter as she took time this time to coax it up. Her palms pressed to the top of the chair back over Magda's shoulders, framing her between Emily's lithe, corded arms, and the loose fabric offered a view through the wide neck of Emily's own tank top as her shoulders sank, one boot still on the floor, the other by Magda's knee while she settled over her commander's waist. 

The nicstik's LED illuminated the shadow between their faces caused by Emily's closeness and fresh tendrils of thin smoke and vapor rolled out in a bastard scent of mint, tobacco, and engine grease from the thin lines of metal in Emily's neck. 

"Mmm, you are so easily distracted," Emily said dragging a hand from the chairback to Magda's shaved scalp. Her thumb settled on the other woman's ear as her fingers pulled in a wave of light scratches across the base of her skull, teasing her with the low, whisper closeness of her words. "You need a refresher on your CQC, Magda?"

Edited June 18 by WickedCadrach

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Magda let Emily push against her, confine her to her chair. As the younger woman pressed close and exhaled her scented nicovapor, Magda grabbed her firm, ass and kissed her belly through her ragged tank top. The Captain shivered as Emily's short nails tickled her scalp and neck.

The glow of her nicstic lit the pilot's face from below, giving it petty shape a threatening cast and throwing a warm light across the modest, delectable curves of her surprisingly exposed breasts.

"I think I remember my close quarters moves pretty well, but regular drill is important to keeping skills fresh." She replied, pulling the girl into her lap by her very tight ass. She tugged at the loose neck of Emily's shirt, "Is that skivvy shirt regulation, Lieutenant Kehrer?" She asked, he own voice husky and laden with seductive intent. The Captain peered over the loose neck of the tank top, letting the stic's light illuminate her rosy nipples.

Payarkoon looked up at Emily's face. "Well, those are very pretty..."

She could feel her own nipples perk up and rub against the suddenly rough fabric of her olive tank top. She took the cig from Emily's lips and raised her mouth to the younger woman's to kiss her. She took Emily by the back of the head and pulled her down to press her full lips against the pilot's.

This was more than just the echoes of their interactions with their BioFrames, and Magda thought she could feel that Emily felt it too. She let her free hand slip up Emily's back, under her tank top. The warm skin and ripples of Emily's spine sending sparks of excitement up Magda's fingers.

 

[WickedCadrach]

Emily's hips rolled forward. A short sharp inhalation followed the tensing of her ass and stomach in answer to Magda's grip on her backside, and the electricity in that touch woke her up and gave a sharpness to her crooked smirk. The kisses, first to her stomach and then to her lips bloomed out across her body, warm blood and signal fires from cyber trying to determine if she was in distress. Yes, whatever this was, she was definitely feeling it. Emily's fingers dimpled the chairback where her steel-reinforced fingers clenched in answer to the enticing friction of Magda's fingers riding up the bare skin of her spine, and a wave of soft heat released across her captain's cheek as Emily sighed into the kiss. 

For all her mental gymnastics and posturing moments before, there was a simple truth Emily had overlooked that now pushed all the rest aside: She wanted to be touched. 

With one leg still planted on the floor, Emily began to rock her hips, pressing down where she straddled Magda's thigh and feeling the faint friction calling out its promise through denim and cotton as the motion dragged her up to the other woman's hip. The stiff points of Magda's nipples traced her ribs as they pressed closer together making Emily aware of the way her own breasts had begun to react and the view she'd given the captain of her pink buds stiffening under her top. Emily shifted, leaning into the mounting heat building in her, coiling in a liquid rhythm, moving achingly slowly to avoid unbalancing the chair beneath them. And pulling her lips away, Emily locked eyes with Magda, an almost predatory glint in the wild white of her stare.

"Sorry Captain, this is one of my favorite shirts," she said, a note of breathless expectation riding the playful insubordination. "You're going to have to pry it off, if you want it."

Edited June 19 by WickedCadrach
So many typos... jesus

[WritesNaughtyStories]

On 19/06/2025 at 18:58, WickedCadrach said:

"You're going to have to pry it off, if you want it."

Magda gave the younger woman a charming, high wattage smile, "Aren't you cute, granny. Thinking anyone cares about the wrapping paper." She shoved the hem of the shirt up, allowing Emily's pert breasts to spring free. "My, my... the wrap certainly did not do the present justice," she said with a soft, appreciative whistle.

Emily rocking against her was maddening in the best way possible. Magda could feel the girl's building excitement feeding into her own. While the direct neural link was absent, Magda could hear Emily's breath quickening, could feel the slow drag of her clothed crotch against her hip as the heat between her own thighs grew.

The captain pressed her lips to the young pilots flat belly, kissing and nibbling as the faint metallic click of Emily's cybernetic heart sounded through her chest. Magda looked up with a grin and let her hands drop slowly over Emily's ribs to her hips. She slouched down in her chair, pulling Emily tight to her and pressing the rapidly dampening crotch of her panties against Emily's thigh. The little rise where the tear in her jeans revealed the skin beneath gave Magda a target for her rapidly stiffening clit.

"Mmmm..." Magda purred into the flawless skin of Emily's abdomen as her hands slid up the girl's bare back and her breasts slipped over the soft stubble of her shaved head.

[WickedCadrach]

Emily' blood burned, and she let out a moan as she sucked the edge of her lower lip between her teeth. Her pony-tail tickled at her back as her head tilted up, the dark locks finding Magda's fingers just before the officer's caressing hands slid down to her hips. The various points of small, wet pressure and friction lit her up from within like the cracking of a log on the fire, dark stoic chill splitting to reveal bright red ember and the ghosting breath of flame: Magda's lips on her stomach; the fuzz of her captain's shaved head across her breast; the heat radiating into her thigh as the older woman answered the grinding roll of Emily's sex against her hip with movement of her own.

"Fuck..." Emily whispered, the word escaping in a small wince as she wrapped her arms around Magda, one hand sliding down her spine, curling over the small of her back as she grabbed the hem of her commanding officer's shirt and dragged it up in a loose fist. Her other hand cupped the base of Magda's head and held her as she kissed into her stomach. Emily wanted more—needed more.

She'd spent too much of her life a prisoner and had too little time left to sip her drinks. 

Curling forward, hips rocking as the friction of Magda's hip coaxed up the fire in her core, Emily dragged her commander's shirt up until the woman's bare chest spilled out. But at the last moment, as the fabric passed over Magda's head but had yet to disentangle from her arms, Emily twisted the tank top, turning it in a corkscrew that transformed the loose cloth into an improvised set of cuffs holding Magda's wrists together above the chair back. Hot breath coming in shallow, greedy pulses Emily stared hard into the other woman's eyes teasing the moment out like the audible snap of a rifle chambering a round. Then she leaned forward. She did not give the other woman a kiss, she took one—impatient and ravenous. 

Edited June 26 by WickedCadrach

[WritesNaughtyStories]

When Magda felt the cloth tighten on her forearms, she tensed. Control. Discipline. Command. Everything in her world demanded she be in charge. Patune would go berserk if she didn't reign him in. Kehrer would burn herself up or die because it hurt less than living. People trusted her.

Emily's lips were on her. Hungry. Insistent. She lifted her hands against Emily's weight and leverage, but the kiss demanded her attention and the captiab surrendered to it.

'I trust her.'

She kissed back, needing. Submitting to the demand with a soft moan. She pressed her nipples against Emily's by arching her back ant the same time she thrust her hip forward to better grind against the pilot's crotch.

Yielding was delicious. Her sex seeped into her panties as she wriggled against Emily's thigh. Magda relaxed her shoulders and let Emily pull her hands down, behind her head.

"I'll be good, I promise." Magda murmured, 

[WickedCadrach]

Emily felt the moment of resistance in her commander, the tautness in Magda's limbs as her forearms paused over her head. Tangled in the twisted cloth, Emily and Magda's arms wear like two locked blades for a moment that lasted less than a heartbeat. But as their lips slipped together, warmth and the soft sound of close breath, the older woman's muscles relaxed, her wrists sliding back as her hips sought the friction of Emily's leg beneath her torn jeans.

A small gasp broke from Emily's lips as her head pulled back reflexively, the sound sinking into a quiet moan as the phantom-soft contact of Magda's dark nipples glided over the pink hardness of Emily's own. And as her captain's promise to 'be good' landed in her ears, Emily's desire flared in a sudden need to make her prove the words. It was an almost predatory hunger, like something more from the feral mind of her BioFrame than her own human wetware—an urge in her hands and mouth to consume the lovely, dark-eyed woman whole.

One hand holding Magda's arms behind her head, Emily's other hand traced up the other woman's ribs. She felt the muscle and small folds in the skin from where she curled in her chair, both of them still rocking into the other's hips and thighs in a steady, grinding roll. She felt the tremor of the sensitive skin, a ticklish reflex that rose as her thumb followed the rib below Magda's breast and flowed up to cup that beautiful softness, teasing up the hard peak between thumb and forefinger as she gave a crooked smirk that belied the fire in her eyes. 

Bringing her face forward again, Emily inhaled the warmth of Magda's skin, the smell of her, the bitter alkaline scent of the soap from her recent shower. She wouldn't have been able to say why she did it. It may have come from that same feral place in her brain that seemed to have taken control, simple animal instinct. Or it might have been that part of her that remembered what it felt like not to care about scents or warmth or touch... a part that still felt like it was making up for lost time. Either way, the smell of the other woman and the feeling of her breath against Emily's face drew one more reflexive movement out of the pilot. 

Her tongue slipped from her open mouth, and raising her chin with the motion, Emily licked across Magda's cheek, a short line no longer than the knuckle of her thumb but with a pressure that made it clear it was no accident. 

Letting go, Emily tilted her head, stepping back until her ass reached the edge of her commander's desk. Her head was tilted, her pony-tail draped over her shoulder and covering one firm breast, and the last point of contact between them was one tracing finger lingering on Magda's peaking nipple before Emily's hands fell and came together on her belt buckle. 

Over the clink of the small metal pin and the shuffle of denim, Emily thought of Magda's promise and replied in a soft, firm voice of challenge, "Show me." Her jeans fell away, pooling around her ankles and revealing a pair of beige, boy-cut panties—darkened where they'd been pressed to Magda a moment before—and the chrome of Emily's cybernetic left leg, full-metal from just above the knee-joint to where it disappeared into the loose boots beneath her fallen garment. 

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Magda took her bundled shirt in both hands, keeping it wrapped around her wrists and watched as Emily's ragged jeans slid to the floor. "Oooh,..." she purred, "dirty old bird likes what she sees." She added with hooded lids as she eased herself to her feet.

Emily was taller than Magda, and the older captain lifted her hands over Emily's head, raising of her toes to clear it cleanly. Magda pressed herself tightly to Emily, rubbing her inflamed nipples over Emily's as she lowered her arms over Emily's head. Magda's biceps squeezed the lieutenant's shoulders as the shorter woman lowered her bound hands to encircle her junior's torso. Magda rubbed Emily's back with the heels of her hands.

Magda kissed Emily's neck as she settled onto her heels and let her lips drift down to the sensitive hollow above her collar bone. Her dark, full lips continued to meander lower, kissing Emily's clavicle, then the swell of her pale breast. Magda's arms held Emily's in place as the senior officer found a stiff, pink nipple and first teased it with her lips, then tongue and teeth, tugging at it for a long moment before Magda sank slowly to her knees, letting her voluntarily bound arms caress the bare skin.

Squatting, with her knees on either side of Emily's legs, Captain Payarkoon kissed her flat belly, rolling her head to the side to nibble her way to Emily's hip. Soft lips danced over the delicate skin above the girl's boy shorts. Magda shuffled to her knees, letting her hands fall below Emily's hands and hug her thighs. The captain smiled up at the pilot, her dark eyes still half closed with arousal before she pressed her face to the fabric covering Emily's pubic mound. Little kisses rained across the fabric.

"A good girl does as she's asked." Magda said with a suggestive smile.

[WickedCadrach]

As Magda wrapped herself around Emily, pulling at her back and pressing her lips to the pilot's bare throat, Emily's eyes drifted closed. A wave of desire flowed down from the top of her head, a momentary bloom of warmth that was interrupted only by a crooked grin drawn out by her commanding officer's flirtatious comment. Emily's hands traced over Magda's hips, up over her ribs, feeling each individually as the smaller woman's body slipped lower and lower down hers. She felt so solid, so real, and each kiss tugged at Emily, filling her with a hot curiosity to known more—to explore Magda's dark skin a centimeter at a time with those fingertips. 

Emily's own mouth left a clumsy, half-pressed kiss on the side of Madga's temple at the last moment before she descended low enough to be out of range of Emily's kisses, and a moan broke out louder than what had come before as Magda's dark lips pressed to the smooth space beside Emily's navel. Her fingers curled as if trying to grab where Madga's midnight hair would be if the woman did not shave her head, scratching faintly at the skin before her fingers spread with a shiver and a tight gasp from the impact of feeling the Captain's teeth nipping at her hip. 

The animal pressure of those teeth woke Emily up from the drifting eroticism of the older woman's attention, a feral response rushing through her as her blood burned and the small muscles behind the beige fabric of her panties clenched and warmed in anticipation. The heat of Magda's breath through the boy-cut panties and the light friction of her mouth made Emily's stomach tense, her hips drifting forward by centimeters as her own warmth radiated back. 

"A good girl does as she's asked." Magda said with a suggestive smile.

"Then don't keep me waiting," Emily replied, the words inviting, playful in their faux authority. And hooking her thumbs in her waistband, Emily pulled her panties down just enough to crest the curve of her hips. The lines where waist became leg were revealed, and the fabric now hung loose over that last scant millimeter before smooth white skin would part into slick dusk rose and pink—one of the last parts of the pilot that was all her still. 

And with a final slip of her finger, hip tilting to help the motion, Emily's panties slipped from her waist, hooking on the metal of her left knee and catching partway down her legs.

Emily grinned back at Magda as she paused, half impatient at the slow teasing and half amused by Magda's playfulness. She had taken the lead and the beautiful woman kneeling at her waist had let her. Distantly, Emily wondered just how much control she really had, though. Had she actually swayed the unflappable Captain Payarkoon, or was this another layer of indulgence the older woman was allowing her? 'Alright, Emily, you can pretend to be in charge for a bit. If that's what you need.' Though with the fire kindling inside of her, muscles tensing between her butt and Magda's gentle lips, the thought truly was distant.

Edited July 15 by WickedCadrach

[WritesNaughtyStories]

Captain Magda Payarkoon loved her comrades. She loved each of them in the deeply human way revolutionaries who shared hopeful visions and lives of struggle and privation to realize those visions often do. She loved each the men and women who fought beside and for her, often in a slightly maternal way, individually and collectively. They were a chosen community that had become an adoptive family.

As Magda slid her willfully bound arms down Emily's cybernetic legs, she felt herself cross a threshold. She loved Emily for giving her this. For letting her not be in charge. She loved Emily for taking charge of her. Yielding to her was a divine feeling and Magda dove into it headlong.

The sensation of her shaved head sliding across the slick crevice of Emily's aroused sex as she bent to put her hands on the floor felt sublimely submissive. Magda gave her head a wiggle, stroking the younger woman's clit and splayed labia with the soft stubble of her scalp. 

The captain, half aware of how the line she had just crossed complicated her life, and maybe Emily's, bit the pilot's boy shorts and tasted the musky sweetness of her pussy. She moaned at what it meant and how good it felt to taste it, on all fours, hands bound, head streaked with that same grool. Magda hugged Emily's calves as she worked the leg hole loose from the joint between flesh and robotics.

Magda tugged Emily's panties to the floor, bending low and pressing her face to the floor between her feet. The floor of the container was as cool as the steel of her lover's foot. Magda pressed her cheek to the inside of Emily's calf and kissed the top of one cybernetic foot before raising her face to her mistress.

Magda needed to please her. Needed to be good. To be owned. She lifted her head happily, eager to pleasure the young woman. With her hands on Emily's ankle, Magda kissed her naked mons dutifully before nuzzling her hooded clit. She gave it a gentle, light kiss and looked up.

"Hands on the floor or may I touch your pretty ass, mistress?" She asked. She didn't wait for an answer before she turned her attention to slipping her tongue between the juicy folds of Emily's lower lips. She licked along the length of her pale, pink valley, lost in finding what Emily enjoyed. Magda knew she needed to be good at this, so she nibbled at Emily's lip, nuzzling her stiffen clitoris with her nose, wiggled her tongue towards her entrance, the dragged it, spread wide across the fragrant, Gouda scented valley to lave her clit, coaxing her hood back with her tongue tip.

She desperately wanted to lower her head again, feel Emily grind and slide against her shorn scalp. She'd never felt so deliciously used. Thinking about it, as she slurped Emily's other cuntlip into her mouth as she teased her clit with her nose, sent a jolt of pleasure straight to Magda's own drooling core.

Edited Friday at 05:42 AM by WritesNaughtyStories

[WickedCadrach]

Her captain's touch felt different from what Emily was used to, and it took Emily a moment to figure out what that difference was. 

Patience. 

Emily's eyes fluttered, her lips parting as the pressure of Magda's tongue split her, curling up to follow the nuzzling pressure from her nose and to caress Emily's glistening clit in a slow, beckoning pull. The deliberately languorous way that her commanding officer dragged her body across Emily's, pressing the soft fuzz of her shaved head against her as she fell to hands and knees like a needy cat begging for attention, had an almost worshipful quality to it that was so unlike the other encounters Emily had experienced that the pilot felt distantly like there must be some aspect to the moment that she was misunderstanding. This wasn't the hasty fucking of two adrenaline-burnt pilots riding the high of surviving a skirmish. It also wasn't the fumbling, hesitant pawing of stolen moments behind the munitions shed and in a boot camp bunk. No, as Magda kissed and tasted her, responding to the pressure of Emily's fingers wrapping greedily behind her skull while the fire in the younger woman sent small electric twitches through her thighs and forearms, Emily didn't know what this was—only that she craved more of it. 

Reaching behind her, the lithe curves of Emily's dancer's figure highlighted in the small twist of her hip and the cocking of her knee, the pilot dropped one hand to grab Magda's bound wrists, the other spreading to palm the shorn fuzz of Magda's head and urge her on. Taking Magda's wrists in the tank-top restraint binding them, Emily lifted her captain's hands to the slim arc of her toned ass, untwisting the garment as she did to free the other woman's arms to move independently. 

Emily's blood burned at the feeling of being in control, of being a goddess to a cult of one, and the thought sharpened her breath. Looking down between her breasts, Emily's eyes flared as she drank in Magda's devoted expression, the other woman bowing and lifting her chin, devouring her pussy in greedy lapping licks and sucking kisses. The sight added to the liquid fire feeling that melted down to coat the little muscles inside her. Her ass tensed as Magda's fingertip grazed the inner curve and volleyed a blissful spike of stimulation through her, feeling as if it arrived just in time to be caught on her captain's tongue and forcing Emily to abruptly lock down the servo of her artificial hip before it's balance gyros overreacted to the sudden urge she had to sink forward and meet that clever, pink organ in the soft, wet sound of its worship. 

Mistress she'd called her. But what was a mistress or a goddess if they gave no commandments to follow?

"Yes," Emily said faintly, licking her lips as she finally responded to Magda's question. And pressing the folded tank top under Magda's chin, she lifted the woman's gaze to meet hers, pausing in that stare for just a moment as she realized how much her breath was already quickening. "I want to feel you inside me. From both sides. I want to feel that beautiful tongue reaching for your finger."