Warmachine

[warthog22]

Hey Machao6, just wanted to say how absolutely blown away I am with the world you created, fully realized with its own characters factions and mythology. I'm impressed with how different the relationships are between the two couples. You have a true gift, I hope you keep on writing this story and many others. Your work is already a classic in my book and I have been reading femdom stories for 20 years at least. Please never put down your pen!

[warthog22]

There is not enough Karma in the world to reward this masterpiece! Please continue!

[Machao6]

Hey Machao6, just wanted to say how absolutely blown away I am with the world you created, fully realized with its own characters factions and mythology. I'm impressed with how different the relationships are between the two couples. You have a true gift, I hope you keep on writing this story and many others. Your work is already a classic in my book and I have been reading femdom stories for 20 years at least. Please never put down your pen!

When I got my writing degree all those years ago I didn't expect this would be my magnum opus, but I'm certainly glad to have decided to share it with you. Thank you for your kind support!

[sgsg69]

Brilliant story, great read and two very independent pictures you have painted. Love the detail and descriptive tone........K+++

[Machao6]

Brilliant story, great read and two very independent pictures you have painted. Love the detail and descriptive tone........K+++

Cheers buddy. Loads more to come. I'm worried it'll be a bit bewildering to read but I'm trying to join all the different threads up!

[Machao6]

It was the oddest night's sleep he had ever had. But as absurd as their positioning had been, he realised that she had arranged things in such a way that she could control his balance on the branch and also stop him from falling - her confidence in her own stability during sleep apparently quite secure. Although he awoke with ghastly pins-and-needles in his legs, it was a small price to pay for being safe from predators in the night. It definitely hadn't done his neck, shoulders or back any favours though either. Wally insisted on finding his own way down from the tree, if only to get some blood moving back into his extremities, but he became stymied by a ten foot drop with only the trunk to climb from. Tanya settled the matter by holding her arms out to catch him, which she did with a laugh. Wally likewise set himself to walking on his own power, and the hill made for tough going. He quickly found himself panting for breath, but he waved off his kind guardian's offers to simply carry him.

"How far is it anyway?" He demanded, pausing to keel over and catch his breath.

"No far. We there today."

It wasn't until Wally looked behind them that he saw their ascent was quite profound. Below and behind them the river wound away, broadening to include an island before curving out of sight. It was hard to tell distances in this place, with foliage encasing all sides, but from here to just that corner he estimated the distance at three miles or so. He also noted the strange light - dawn had broken somewhere, but here it was merely a pale twilight. His watch had been shattered in the plane crash and his only measure was the sun itself, which was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps it was four or five in the morning.

They pressed on. Tanya stopped to point out interesting things, and forage nuts, berries and mushrooms that she offered to her ward. She also stopped him from walking into a snake hanging from a branch, and paused their travel so as to allow a large, low-slung lizard crawl on its way out of their path. This place - Fantera as it was named on the maps - was beautiful. If it weren't for the war, there would be people clamouring to visit in fairer times.

Or would they? Everyone had heard the legends. Tribes of warrior women? Check, apparently. Man-eating wildlife and plants? Maybe, maybe not. The existence of Tanya seemed to keep the more fanciful stories in the realm of tangibility. He had seen her accomplish feats of strength no normal person would cope with, and her endurance was simply breathtaking. So that meant other things - like cannibal giants, gargantuan monsters and maybe even sentient plants might be out there.

The sound of rotor blades made him bristle. He heard them immediately, having been enjoying the ambience of their surrounds, and Tanya looked at him for guidance. He led her to a tree and crouched beneath its canopy, hoping for the best. The helicopter - another Vulture - was not near them and it was moving slowly. He realised why when it passed them and started to descend.  It was actually about level with them, hovering over the water, and Wally reminded himself to breathe as he remembered the barracks talk about thermal imaging and sensor suites. But if it had seen them it would have opened fire, and it did not, then a minute or two later it rose and flew off. Tanya squeezed his hand and the Lexian racked his brains for what it was all about. Then he heard voices below them in harsh, gutteral Larinthian. It had been fast roping a search party!

"We have to move." He ordered, and the amazon picked him up and headed uphill once again.

There were women in the party following them. He could hear their voices, shrill and high by comparison. And something was moving through the tree canopy, clattering through leaf and branch. Tanya could hear it too and cast a nervous glance behind them. "Keep going," Wally urged. He had thought they would easily outpace them at his guardians' unyielding tempo, but knowing they were in the canopy above raised an unknown. A dog barked, and Wally added another factor to his situation. Tanya was running now, clawing her way up the hill even as it grew steeper yet.

Wally knew they could scent their trail with the dogs, and in any event moving fast while heavily laden as she was even an amateur could track Tanya's path. They were relying on her speed and stamina to keep ahead of the pursuers, who by now must have found their quarry. He listened to their exchanges echoing under the jungle canopy and wished he'd taken the time to learn the enemy's language. He recognised a word here and there - unflattering adjectives and cursewords, enough to tell him they had found what they were after. He suddenly felt completely helpless as he realised the only thing keeping him from certain capture - again - was Tanya. If he tried to make his own way he would be too slow, but by staying in her arms he was making life hard for her. Not that it seemed to be showing. She was breathing hard now but far from breathless. They both heard something in the canopy close behind, but as they turned to look something ripped through the air past them and embedded itself in the ground. An arrow?

Wally searched for their attacker and heard a woman's shrill call summoning the rest of her squad to their encounter. He spotted her then, a lithe huntress in full camouflage, sporting a headset with an eyepiece that had three lenses on it. She carried a crossbow that she now nocked a fresh bolt into, and a motor wound back its serving. On each hip she carried a compact quiver of bolts, and on her chest rig she carried a knife. Wally lurched his pistol over Tanya's head to fire, but by the time he had the huntress had moved, swinging like an acrobat from a branch down below, then fearlessly on to another on a tree closeby. The branch did not hold her, but before it broke she was using her momentum again to swing up. Wally fired again, then again, but both times her unpredictable movement thwarted his aim. Then she fired her crossbow again, this time at a tree on the opposite flank, and let herself be pulled toward the lodged bolt by some kind of squealing motor. Then she simply disappeared. He knew he must be behind a trunk, but a fierce growl drew his urgent attention elsewhere.

A squat, powerful looking mastiff was thundering up on them and Wally snapped off three shots in a hurry, winging the dog but not stopping it. Empty. "Fucking revolver!" he cursed, and Tanya made a worried noise. The Lexian wrestled with the scavenged equipment in the bundle rattling on her shoulder and produced a carbine, but as he aimed it at the dog it was already mid-pounce, teeth bared, heading for his guardian's ankle.

"Dog!" He warned, and Tanya spun on one foot, the other out in a broad kick that caught the mutt in mid-air and sent it whimpering off into the undergrowth, where it shook itself off in confusion.
Someone fired at them from down below, the bullet chipping a tree as they passed it, and Wally fired back. The distant enemies were just shapes in the undergrowth, flashes of gold and white, but the canopy above seemed to be constantly moving with unseen pursuers and he had no idea how many of those strange huntresses the enemy had sent.

Another bolt ripped through the air and Tanya raised an arm defensively, with a yelp. To Wally's disgust, a short bolt was protruding from her forearm, a thin trickle of blood all to tell of a shot that would have struck him in the head if not for her quick reactions. Her pace did not falter as she charged forward, the hill now evening out to easier and longer strides. Searching vengefully for his quarry Wally saw the bobbing branches of their movement until finally he found the huntress. He fired a salvo of shots that detonated the branch she was holding onto, and despite a perfect landing, he had grounded the enemy. He drew aim and fired again but she somersaulted back into cover, then Tanya screamed in pain and stumbled forward.

Another bolt had lodged in her shoulder. Wally noted it hadn't passed through her body, like the other before, and that despite the injury she continued running with gritted teeth. He didn't have time to bask in awe however as he grimly fired back into the canopy, hoping at least to put them off their acrobatic strides. As he reloaded, he spoke into her ear.

"Put me down, you're a sitting duck. We have to get rid of these bitches."

"No, village close!"

"Tanya!" Wally shouted firmly, and the amazon seemed to give. She suddenly changed direction, narrowly evading another bolt that shattered on a boulder, and leaped into some bushes where she deposited him with the bundle of equipment.

"Stay." She ordered.

"I'll..." Wally began, but she had already rushed out into the fray. Wally fought his desire to defend her and instead resolved to use her agile distraction to ambush the ambushers. From his secluded spot the enemy had no idea he had been dropped off, or if so where, and that gave him an opportunity to catch them unawares.

But as the pilot watched the battle unfolding he realised he was hopelessly outmatched. Tanya had taken to the canopy herself, shinning her way up a tree and out onto its branches where she caught one of the huntresses by the throat as she swung in to land, and held her for a moment over the twenty foot drop. The pursuers were well-trained. After a moment's shocked discomfort, the lithe huntress swung her legs up into Tanya's face in a well-executed kick that sent her off-balance. The huntress used her crossbow to latch onto a branch above, while Tanya had to swing from her wounded arm and clamber back onto her perch. Meanwhile the other huntress had found a vantage point and now aimed her crossbow at the amazon - and Wally fired, instinctively knowing he wouldn't get a clearer shot. Two shots rang out and the woman dropped like a stone, crashing to the floor with a groan.

Tanya meanwhile grew increasingly frustrated, and snapped an entire branch from the trunk with which to lay about the surrounding canopy. This proved successful, if clumsy, as her opponent had clearly not anticipated or planned for such a strike and was swatted out of the air mid-leap. She fell through some brush and the pilot heard her curse with a grin. He fired on the location, a short salvo of shots. He had no idea of knowing if he hit anything but if nothing else it gave her something else to worry about.

He had been expecting Tanya to rejoin him but when he looked for her again she was being attacked by another Huntress who had leaped onto her back and now tried to jab a wicked looking blade into her neck. With her free hand she exerted a choke and her legs fixed tight around the amazon, but Tanya easily overpowered the knife-hand and squeezed until her attacker screamed and dropped it. As the huntress reinforced her choke hold with wiry limbs locked tight, a fourth came swinging in and immediately launched a flurry of blows and kicks that the amazon staggered to fend off. Finishing the flurry was a lunge with another knife, which Tanya intercepted with both hands. But to her anger the opponent seemed to have anticipated this defence, and now swung her legs up and around to fasten tight about her arms, ensnaring them while the other choked.

Wally stopped lining up his shot for fear of over-penetrating, and instead looked at the branch. It was young and sturdy, but not incredibly thick. Tanya growled defiantly as she forced her arms apart inside the huntress' triangle lock. While he had no doubt she could overpower them both, he was worried by her clumsiness. Her movements seemed desperate and she was losing her balance. Either the choke was particularly effective, or she had lost more blood than it seemed. He weighed the options and decided she would probably be fine with a fifteen foot drop, and fired. He had to fire again to snap the branch, but when it went the two huntresses gasped.

He didn't see the ensuing tussle, but when he ran over to find Tanya the attackers' limbs lay at uncanny angles and their heads were facing the wrong way. A burst of gunfire from below prompted them to keep running, but even as she took him into her arms, Wally could sense her strength was failing. She picked up the bundle and pressed on, but eventually fell forwards reluctantly. The pilot had time to simply stand and tried to catch her, but the amazon was much heavier than he expected and he almost joined her on the floor.

"Master," She wheezed "Go!"

"We don't know each other well, but you know me better than that. Remember the cave-in? Come on, up you get." He struggled to get beneath her shoulder, but she was dead weight.

"Village close." She pointed with a tired arm ahead. It was just more jungle to him.

"Come ON!" He growled, trying to drag her by one arm. They moved a foot before the ground slipped beneath his feet.

"I sorry...master...please go..."

"Fuck off!" Wally screamed, at his pursuers, at her insistence that he abandon her, at his own weakness and incapability. He could hear the Larinthians gaining on them and resolved to make them pay. There was a boulder nearby offering solid cover until he was flanked, so he grabbed a few magazines and picked his field of fire.

Shapes moved below through the bushes and he opened up on them. His first target threw himself flat, unfortunately between two thin trees where Wally shot him twice in the torso. The second fell into a bush out of sight but as the pilot watched he emerged, weapon ready. But he had yet to find Wally and the Lexian was already aiming at him, and a carbine round hit the man square in the face in a pale red mist. The third target was a hulking Trueblood, his hulking armour a dead giveaway even though it had been substituted from its usual gold hue to a tropical camouflage. Wally's shots spranged off the armour in a shower of sparks, and he heard the Larinthian cursing and shouting at his squad for support. Some return fire ensued, an automatic weapon raking the space to his left, then across the boulder itself as Wally ducked for cover. He prepared a grenade and threw it as hard as he could down the hill. Using the suppression of the ensuing blast he sought out another target, a short conscript sprinting for cover. The first shot stopped him, the second shot killed him.

Then he was seized from behind by strong hands that covered his mouth.

[Machao6]

At first he protested. He even tried to fight with his captors. But his emotion gave way to fascination as he watched what ensued. They were women - like Tanya - muscular, beautiful, with very daring fashion sense. Some wore armour - wrought metal with a strange mottled texture, as if it had been beaten with a hammer. Other pieces were intricately etched. Some wore wooden armour of all things, thick bark-laden pieces hung on rope or chains. There were shields too, though it was hard to tell what these were made from but they seemed to be incredibly thick and definitely bullet-resistant. They came on as a unit, four shielded and spear-wielding amazons advancing cautiously down the hill toward the bawling Trueblood and his panicking squad. Wally observed two more swinging through the canopy, who descended on the Larinthians amid a rush of gunfire and alarmed voices.

Beneath the noise the Vulture returned. The Lexian shouted a warning to the amazons but his voice was drowned out by the sound of its cannon firing. The trees above and around them exploded, bullets shearing branches in an inexorable arc. The shielded amazons parted for the cover of tree trunks, and Wally was unceremoniously and effortlessly dragged, swung and fallen upon by his captor - a ponytailed brunette carrying a bow and quiver on her back. The helicopter jinked for a new angle of attack and the interruption had evidently given the Larinthians a window as they scattered in all directions. Wally watched the Trueblood backing away while firing, only to be pounced upon and punched repeatedly by one of the powerful amazons. His armoured helmet seemed to hold up well against the onslaught, but after the sixth blow she moved on to a new target and the Larinthian slave driver did not rise.

The Vulture fired again, trying to gouge a window into the canopy of the trees. The chaingun carved through a trunk and severed it at roughly shoulder-height, and the dislodged tree collapsed downhill even as the amazon hiding behind it ducked lower still. The helicopter waited for a moment, and Wally knew the pilot was letting the dust and smoke clear so he could gauge the situation on the ground. While Wally winced at the prospect of receiving a rocket strike from the chopper's pods, his captor had other ideas. She stepped alongside him with arrow nocked, and loosed a shot contemptuously at the helicopter. Wally stared in stunned absurdity, but as he gawped at the girl there was a waver in the rhythm of the Vulture's rotors. Looking again he could see the arrow had punched through the canopy and must have struck the pilot, as the helicopter idled and turned slowly in the air. Wally saw as it turned side-on that the crew were silhouetted against the morning sunlight, and he watched the co-pilot struggling to bring the helicopter back under control. A second arrow pierced straight through the canopy - the armaglass canopy - and skewered him. Wally could see him splatted against the far side in a gout of blood, the arrow protruding at an angle. The helicopter drifted, wobbled, and finally dived in a curve away and downhill with a devastating rend of metal and wood. The brunette captor swept her ponytail behind her and shot him a cold glance, as if defying his scepticism.

The Larinthians were finished. What few had remained before the helicopter arrived were spared only the moments it took to catch them. The armoured front line emerged from their hiding places only to relax, disappointed they had girded for war and found only routing fools. Wally's captor again raised her bow at an enemy he had to look for. He found a lone conscript, disarmed, scrabbling for his life up the hill around their left flank. The woman loosed her arrow which pierced straight through the poor man and pinned him to the floor. Wally found himself imagining being that man, wanting only to escape and live, and being caught and killed like an animal. But he tore himself away from such morbid reveries as he realised he and Tanya were now safe, and looked for her.

She did not look well. Two amazons were holding her up under each shoulder and trying to speak with her, but she was too weak. They exchanged words tersely and one heaved her over a shoulder and ran off up the hill. Wally made to rise and follow them, but his captor kept him down with an implacable shove. Now the amazons talked in a strange language and to the pilot it seemed like an argument or discussion about what to do with him. His jailor seemed to be asserting custody while the others were pointing uphill toward, he presumed, their home. Thankfully none were pointing downhill or to the corpses of the Larinthians. Eventually he was raised one-handed to his feet, but they did not give him his gun back. Indeed, one of the girls picked up the bundle Tanya had been carrying and the others filed up behind her.  They waited with a charged silence for his jailor to lead him by the hand to the front of their column, and up the hill.

If they could speak Lexian like Tanya could, they did not let on. They simply smiled awkwardly and exchanged giggling remarks whenever he pressed them for information.  Toward the top of the hill the party joined a road of packed and trodden earth, and followed it to the top where the jungle gave way to open rice paddies. Their path now became loosely paved and Wally realised it was little more than flat stones tall enough to stand above the water of the rice fields. Above this expanse was an artificial step of stone-barred earth upon which simple huts made from wood and stone were built. The settlement seemed to rise gently and turn around a rocky outcrop on the left. Vestiges of jungle persisted on the right but Wally could see the sky through their branches. As they closed with the village he could see more girls watching their approach. There were no men to be found anywhere, nor children, nor elders.

The buildings were simplistic, but not crude. Little attention was given to their aesthetic but they seemed sturdy and homely as any spire-top he had seen back in Lexia. Roofs of thatch or wooden shake made him feel like he was stepping through a living history exhibit, and the smells of meat and spices cooking over open fire brought an irresistible smile to his lips. They walked on through the village, which climbed up and around onto a rocky plateau, and Wally realised it perched at the top, or the edge, of this stony apex. He could see that the village expanded upwards and noted at a glimpse the buildings seemed to increase in both quality and beauty, but he was guided toward an imposing statue of a muscular heroine embattled with an enormous snake. Underneath the statue was a low tower, and from the tower a rope bridge connected it to another ornate building higher up the plateau. The tower building was well crafted from attractive stone, with etched corner pieces and metal braziers wrought into complex patterns.

The heavy iron doors were open, and Wally broke into a run when he saw Tanya lying on the floor. Attending her was the amazon who had carried her off the battlefield, another in notably more garb than any other he had seen - a complex white dress with a silver belt inlaid with aquamarine stones - and a small bald man in Argonian military fatigues. Wally recognised him from the assembly area as a member of Lieutenant Westerley's party. The two amazons looked up at him worriedly as he approached, but the man was fixated on administering a shot from a hypodermic needle. Thereafter he rose, pocketed the spent needle and picked up his bag as if to leave. He didn't seem to have even noticed Wally, let alone show any emotion at finding another survivor.

"What was that?" Wally demanded, none too politely.

"Counter agent. The Larinthians have a wide range of toxins and reagents that I am, fortunately, familiar with. Have you been long in country?" He asked as if he was a tourist on his fifth visit.

"Two days. Will she be ok?"

"Absolutely. Though she will sleep for a day and be very drowsy for a day more. But have faith, she'll spring back in no time. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must see to something else. You're most welcome. Come, Athena."

The man pushed ahead past Wally who could only spread his hands in incredulous silence. The black haired amazon who had carried Tanya here also left, following on his heels. This left only the regal-looking blonde in the white dress, if it could be called that, who was now lifting Tanya off the ground in her arms. "Does she have a name?" the woman asked, and it took Wally a moment to realise he had been spoken to.

"Tanya. I'm so glad you speak Lexian. How did you know?"

 The amazon smiled with relief. "When Athena brought her here she gave a description of you to Edgar, who told me you were a Lexian pilot. I am familiar with your language thanks to previous visitors. I make it my business to know as many as possible, it helps me to do my work. My name is Sophitia. Will you follow me please?"

The pilot followed her into an alcove where a spiral of stone stairs led them up the tower."Where are you taking her?"

"You can both stay with me until something is worked out in the village. Are you hurt, or tired? Would you like me to carry you?"

"No, I'm good, thanks to her. I'd be cat food if it wasn't for this one."

She led him across the rope bridge, which seemed like a superfluous addition for the effort it must have taken to put it here, but he realised it offered a direct connection to the larger, but similarly revered building they were heading towards. From this vantage Wally was given pause by the stunning view, as where the village was situated on the edge of a rise the land dropped away into a valley. He looked back at the direction he had come from and saw the river stretching away into the haze of the jungle heat. "She said she ran away." He muttered, vocalising a memory.

"Yes." Sophitia said, but did not elaborate. She led him across to the large building, which was arraigned around a central courtyard or forum with two floors. The interior was dark and smelled of rich incense or herbs. Flickering torches lit the stony landing and the top floor of the forum was arrayed with doors which, on opening one, were evidently chambers of residence. A made bed, a single chair and what appeared to be a writing table awaited inside. The amazon laid Tanya on the bed and turned to Wally.

"Close the door." She commanded, and he obeyed nonplussed.

"You have many questions, and I mean to answer them all. But there are also things I need to tell you..."


(The story will switch characters once again now)

[wowser1016]

I really like this! Great work! K+

[sgsg69]

Great set up and detail you are taking in getting this story set up, can't wait to see how you integrate all of your threads into one.....K++++++++++++

[Machao6]

Thanks gents, I am worried it is taking a long time to set everything up but...there were quite a few scenarios and encounters I wanted to cover

[Machao6]

DEXTER’S DROP

CHAPTER THREE

Dexter Malliard was the last person to leave the stricken Walrus. Flames washed over his Powered Armour and the screams of burning men were consumed by the hissing of the inferno inside the aircraft. He saw one of the flight crew stagger out of the cockpit, fumbling with a parachute, only to be knocked out of the open hatch. He strode to the threshold over the sad mess of unfortunates who didn't make it in time. His jump distance was a mere three hundred feet at a peculiar angle, barely enough time to hit his 'chute release catch. His parachute deployed just in time to slow his fall to a manageable speed, and a quick-release in mid-air allowed him to bypass a particularly mighty conifer tree. Natalya landed with a metallic crunch and hissing hydraulics. Dexter winced, then opened one eye to see if there was any permanent damage on his screens. Apart from severely draining the hydraulic intensity on the legs, which was really only used for powered leaps and kicks, the apparatus was in fine condition. Whether he was however, was another matter.

The jungle climbed all around him, though he had landed on a dirt road. Tyre and track marks ran through it and he knew this was enemy territory. He decided to move off the road, which circumvented the foothills of a mountain range that were layered with forest so that from the sky, the trees seemed as waves on the ocean, rising and falling. He first resolved to navigate to high ground from where he could observe any smoke signals or other movements that might tell him where the others - those who escaped the ruined Walrus - were rallying. He maintained radio silence as he trudged uphill, listening to friendly channels which were silent except for an unusual beeping noise on an emergency code, and Larinthian channels which were very lively. So they were here after all, and in force.

He decided, for lack of anything better to do, to triangulate the origin of the transmissions. Before long he had mapped a network of outposts reporting to a central hub, only a few kilometres away. Dexter set off to investigate, flicking through his channels and hearing only silence, or that curious bleep.

His peripheral impression of the lay of the land was that the Walrus had been heading down a long valley, and he had dropped into it. The valley was flanked on each side by cliffs that rose into jungled peaks, rocky hills as opposed to mountains. The land seemed well nourished with mountain streams and rivers, and although the ambient temperature was a sweaty thirty six degrees centigrade, he could still see snow on the mountaintops. He made his way toward the enemy base, picking his path carefully so he could see the road. Natalya’s skin shifted to a green and brown mess of abstract foliage. Sure enough, the road led him toward the base, and as soon as that became apparent he ventured uphill in search of a clearer view.

He found it abruptly by vaulting up some shelf-like ledges on the cliff face. The ground started to become rocky and Natalya’s skin changed again to include a gritty, marble-like texture to blend with the mountain stone. He was still two kilometres away but he could see the base clearly with the suit’s visual magnification. The jungle around it for a good five hundred meters had been cleared and burned to provide fields of fire. Squat bunkers provided sturdy firing platforms for ground troops, each flanked by sandbag field gun emplacements. On each corner a fortified watch tower provided good lookout over the surrounding area, with snipers and machineguns and probably artillery spotters. There was way too much security for the Larinthians to be alone in the jungle, so evidently there was a third party at work here, a powerful one that made them want to dig in. There were landing pads at the base, four of them, and even as he watched a Vulture gunship was touching down and its ground crew rushed out with munitions trolleys to re-arm it. The base had an armoured storehouse, maintenance bay, barrack blocks and there seemed to be stairs that led underground. He knew a base of that nature would have patrolling elements twenty-four-seven, but there also seemed to be a motor pool at the base and a frequent traffic of trucks in and out. Vehicles would turn up, be loaded with equipment, then drive out again. Some came singularly. Others were under armed escort, with a Halftrack, jeep, or armoured car.

Dexter took some key photographs of the defences and activity at the base and was just about to turn in search of running water to recharge the suit, when something new caught his eye. A Mecane crawler carrying its compliment of drones, all packed in neatly like goods in a store. It was too big to fit inside the base and he watched as its team of black-overalled technicians quarrelled with the gate guards for a while before the latter reluctantly agreed to send out a team of mechanics to overhaul their machines. A guard of armoured Truebloods formed a perimeter with heavy weapons around the vehicle. It stood to reason that House Mecane would find work in this environment. Robots didn’t tire easily and were completely dispensable, allowing them to cover a huge amount of ground no matter the cost while greatly reducing upkeep. Their presence here made operations considerably more dangerous, since there was no telling how far and wide their advanced machineries could roam in this environment and their fighting units would put the enemy on an even keel with Natalya’s capabilities. He watched the Mecane crawler depart the way it had come, then left in the opposite direction.

The Dafnese trooper made some hand-written notes, including a crude map of the base. He also pulled his recognition manual up on Natalya's interface, searching for the Mecane walker he had seen. The closest approximation was a Hub Crawler, designation "HIVE QUEEN". He whistled as he glanced over its specifications, the armour, arms and crew compliment. No asset this serious could be deployed without substantial supporting elements, and the fact it was roaming around apparently alone suggested they felt pretty comfortable here. They evidently felt that the jungle was no advantage however, given the cleared spaces, and he noted the roads leading away from the base in other directions had similar clearances, out to a hundred meters. He estimated there could be a battalion housed inside the base, along with equipment such as artillery and air support. For a moment he considered the possibility that he was completely alone here and caught himself wondering what the hell he was going to do. But then he remembered, someone had gotten out of the plane. Lieutenant Westerley was out here somewhere.

Dexter packed his notes away and continued to climb the cliff, jump by jump, until it presented him with a steep hillside. Climbing further he encountered a stream flowing almost parallel to the cliff. It took a sharp turn as the cliff seemed to run out of rocks, presenting a spill of jungle that broke down to the valley floor which the river seemed to be using to escape from the heights. Following it downhill he was relieved to find it joined a river, which he stood Natalya in and powered down to try the air with his own lungs. But while he was enjoying the climate and the cool, refreshing water on his bare feet he heard something. Music. Drums. Voices. Like a party or a chant, or maybe some spectacle with a crowd. He searched for the origin of the noise. It was from upstream, and he walked up the waterway toward it. The stream was one fork of a larger outlet running off the mountain above, and the water flowed more powerfully here at the junction. He stepped away from the unsteady stream and onto an island that separated its two forks, hiding behind a fallen tree where his rusty overalls would blend in better. A wooden footbridge crossed the water and there was indeed a spectacle taking place upon it.

Dexters eyes lit up as he saw that the entire gathering was of gobsmackingly attractive women wearing essentially nothing but swimwear. Their bodies were full and enticing, toned and tanned. In fact, they unanimously seemed to be very athletic, with solid abs and clear, supple quads. The musculature was best exhibited by the objects of the spectacle – two girls straining on what looked to be a tree trunk with iron bars through each end for hand grips. It was like an extreme tug of war, the sort of thing he expected Myrmadon strongmen to be doing once a year, but here were two young women finding each other to be the most challenging part of this feat. The girls around them shouted and bayed and whooped and cheered, but the competitors seemed to be in deadlock. Their bodies shone with sweat and their gorgeously defined bodies were rippling with muscle – not the inflated, veiny brawn of bodybuilders, but the quiet power and complimentary growth of people who honed their bodies constantly. It was a wet dream come true, and to Dexter, it was difficult to believe his luck.

Transfixed, he watched the competition. On the left side of the bridge was a girl who might have been just past twenty, with long, wavy brown hair that spilled out behind her broad shoulders. Her skin was tanned to a bronze complexion, and she braced against her opponent in a rock solid posture that gave away absolutely nothing. She wore a barley-coloured bikini that seemed specially fitted to cope with her heavy bust, which shuddered deliciously as she exerted herself on the trunk.  Her opponent was by comparison paler and thinner, younger by a year or two maybe, but still very strong with arms that bulged with raw power. Much of her body was covered by a skin-tight purple one-piece that shaped her body perfectly. Her hair was bright red and gathered into a ponytail that stretched past her buttocks. She strained against the other girl tenaciously, trying to wear her down with ragged heaves. Dexter lost himself in the battle, hopelessly turned on by it, and he felt the guilty excitement of voyeurism. The girls pulled against each other tirelessly as the crowd grew more and more intense and excited. The audience seemed to be willing the competitors to greater feats of endurance and fortitude, cheering the staying power, rather than for a decisive stroke.  Back home in Dafne, they’d have gotten bored and changed channel after five minutes without a victor.

He took a moment to study the crowd. Some of the girls wore pieces of armour – tassets around the hips, scandalously ‘light’ breastplates, shoulder guards, bracers and greaves. There was no uniformity, in fact their skimpy outfits and patchwork armour, though clearly crafted with care, seemed to be designed to be as bright and distinctive as possible. Some carried weapons, simple spears or axes, clubs and hide or wooden shields. A couple, one on each side in fact, wore disappointingly modest robes that were still outrageously daring by his own culture’s standards. These wore thin garments of wispy sheer or silk that hung from ornate belts or chokers, sometimes pinned in place by metalwork or jewellery. All of the girls were tall, beautiful and strong looking. He willed himself to reconnoitre the surroundings more carefully, and saw that behind the girls who were blocking off the bridge into an impromptu arena, were small gatherings of men who seemed very short and frail by comparison. They talked conspiratorially and gestured at the crowd, and he could plainly see they were assessing the qualities of the girls in the contest, as well as the assets of members of their audience too. They wore loose-fitting garments of an unfamiliar style, made from locally sourced materials – weaves of flax and hemp, fur and hides cut into simple, heat-efficient garments. The men seemed far less comfortable with their bodies, preferring to stay mostly covered up except for bare arms or bare chests, no doubt due to the interminable heat. They wore simple, loose-fitting garments - shirts, robes, togas even.

Some dramatic event caused the crowd to erupt into a frenzy of activity, and Dexter looked to where the girls were still heaving against each other. The younger girl with the long red hair had started a protracted pull against the other girl, causing the older to lean forward almost on one leg to fight back. As the redhead in the purple leotard hauled away the crowd seemed to collectively step forward in excitement, and both girls were audibly desperate to secure victory. Dexter’s heart raced as they moaned and grunted, but just when it seemed certain the ‘little’ redhead would win, she slipped onto her backside. The older girl with brown hair heaved back on the trunk and dragged her painfully across the floor, fighting every inch but losing hopelessly. At the last minute she rose to her feet and stopped the runaway win just short of the halfway mark, which was a simple white ribbon. For another minute or two, the girls growled and strained, but the redhead was off-balance and could only make her inevitable defeat harder for the other girl, which she did up to the last second when a tremendous pull dragged her up onto her toes and then flat on her face behind the dragging trunk. The girls gathered around went jubilant for the exhausted victor, crowding around her and lifting her into the air. They left the beaten redhead to rise slowly to her knees, where her posture sank and she seemed to weep into her hands.

Malliard tried to piece together what it was all about. As the victor was carried away and uphill, something stirred. The unseen drums were stopped and from the ledge above the bridge, a man in white overalls that looked very out of place stood from where he had evidently been seated and was led by one of the robed women toward the victor, who wrestled herself free of the crowd and rushed toward him, grabbing him in a tight hug and lifting him helplessly into the air. Then they kissed. There was some sort of exchange of words, an inaudible ceremony. Then the crowd cheered again and the drums started up once more. The brown haired girl carried the man off as the crowd celebrated behind them. They went uphill, the music fading as they walked.

Dexter saw that the crying redhead composed herself and stood tiredly, dusting herself off. She seemed to linger a moment beside the fallen trunk, the object of her humiliation, then picked up the entire thing and pressed it overhead before hurling it with an angry grunt. To his horror and amazement, the log, which must have weighed half a tonne at least, sailed directly toward him, landing in the stream with a crash of water that caused him to raise his arm defensively. When he looked back, the girl was staring right at him, her lips parted in silent surprise. She cocked her head as if to check he wasn’t a peculiarly shaped tree branch or bush. Dexter felt his body dive into cold dread as he considered the ramifications of discovery, or being caught peeping by a girl of such power.

His only response was to run.

[warthog22]

Hey Machao6, I really would like to compensate you for your effort (as well as encourage you to go on). Please set up a patreon account where we could pay you back.

[Machao6]

Hey Machao6, I really would like to compensate you for your effort (as well as encourage you to go on). Please set up a patreon account where we could pay you back.

That's very generous of you. Perhaps when I have finished it (some time yet maybe!) I will publish the whole thing as an ebook? Not really sure if I can after posting it here tbh, but we'll see. I need to look at options but for now please enjoy my work as its making me feel pretty good about writing in general, even though its not my "Magnum Opus"!

[Machao6]

He splashed back down the stream to where Natalya waited with open cockpit. Jumping inside, he clumsily strapped himself in as the door closed and the startup sequence initialised. He switched to thermal vision and scanned the way he’d come, but there was nothing there. Breathing a sigh of relief as he circled away from the bridge, he decided he had to map the area and find where those people had come from. There was evidently a village nearby, uphill somewhere. Miserably damp, he trudged wide to try and avoid the girl in case she was still watching in his direction. The hill was well chosen as a place to live, it was defensible. Too steep even for Natalya to scramble up, he had to resort to hydraulic jumps just to gain ground. Circling any wider would take hours.

He finally reached the summit of the hill and found himself looking at a deserted stone circle with boulders of varying sizes, dominated by six the size of truck cabs. This was evidently a meeting place, as the earth here was beaten taught and traces of discarded food, tools and scorch marks in the earth where fires had been lit. Chopped stumps of wood were scattered around, perhaps for seating. Beyond this meeting place, he saw a settlement made from simple wooden structures. It was fenced off with upright planks bolstered with more giant stones, but above the fence he could see houses built onto the forks of the giant trees that formed an impenetrable canopy overhead. It seemed deserted, and Dexter guessed that whatever they were celebrating had drawn everyone out of their homes for the occasion.

He was considering closing in to investigate further, when his proximity sensors alerted him to someone sneaking up behind the suit. He jumped up onto the nearest boulder and turned to face his adversary, but was appalled to see it was the red haired girl from the bridge. How had she managed to sneak up on him? She rose out of the long grass, where she had been creeping like a tiger, and balled her fists defiantly. Dexter had no intention of fighting her, but she was almost certainly more mobile than Natalya, and if her strength was evenly distributed she would have no trouble catching up to and out-manoeuvring the suit if he ran. Perhaps he could knock her out?

The girl surged like lightning toward him and he dithered, aiming the 50mm gun at her but unwilling to use it. She slammed into the boulder with the force of a car crash and succeeded in rolling it over, toppling Dexter’s suit onto its back. Then, as he was staring up at the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the tree canopy, she pounced on top of him and hammered down with a fist. The impact shook the entire frame and set off his collision alarm. If she kept it up she would eventually get through his visor or dent the suit so badly the integrity would be compromised.

“Ok lady, you asked for it...” He muttered, swatting her away with a backhand strike. He’d tried to do it gently but his suit was capable of lifting 2.5 tonnes and, being made of metal, delivered fairly hard blows even in glancing. The girl was knocked flying and skidded ten meters away, sending dust clouding up from her passing. Dexter rose and watched her push herself up off the floor angrily. He was sure he’d made a mistake. He backed away cautiously, hoping the girl would allow his intent to leave, but she advanced purposefully. She broke into a run and leaped a good three meters up to deliver a hammer blow, but an urgent boost to the right gave her nothing to connect with. Dexter could have followed up with something but wanted to make himself clear. Now the girl picked up a stone with the dimensions of a coffee table and threw it at him. The stone hit and sent the suit reeling backwards, then she closed and grabbed his armour plating.

“No, fuck off...!” Dexter murmured irritatedly, slapping the girl across the back and pancaking her between the suit’s hydraulically assisted arm and its unforgiving metal body. He was treated to the sight of her breasts slammed against his view port and her pained expression gave him a guilty pique of pleasure, but to his amazement she simply shrugged off the arm and used her new vantage point to try and lever the suit open, bracing with her legs and heaving with her arms. Natalya creaked at the seams as the redhead began to exert her strength on the metal joints.

“Seriously, fuck off!” Dexter punched the girl lightly in the side, but she kept her grip. He escalated but overstepped in his frustration, sending her staggering toward a rock which she had to lean on momentarily to recover. Yet she advanced again. Dexter swung an arm round but this time she blocked and caught it, which was impressive in itself, then turned her body inside his arm and flipped the entire suit by its arm joint. She slammed the suit into the rock, moving both with the impact and causing Natalya’s instruments to flicker. Malliard tried to grab the girl with both hands but she blocked each with one of her own and they wrestled for a time. She seemed surprised by the suit’s strength, which threatened to collapse her guard, but then she bared her teeth and fought back defiantly. Even though the suit had pressed her back several yards, she dug in and pushed back, bringing them both to a deadlock. She worked toward gaining purchase on the suit’s hands for a throw, so Dexter fired a hydraulic-assisted kick that sent her bouncing off the boulder behind her and back into his reach. Winded, she was caught unawares when the suit’s hands clasped around her, pinning her arms to her waist. She kicked and wriggled in its grip as Dexter lifted her into the air and prepared to throw her somewhere far away so he could make his escape.
 
But the girl had other ideas. She resisted so energetically that Malliard was forced to squeeze some of the fight out of her, causing her to cry out in pain. Then he threw her into the softest thing he could find – a palm bush – and turned to jump down from the plateau. As he calculated his landing however, a massive strike tipped the suit forwards and over the edge, sending it and Dexter crashing to the floor thirty feet below. With no way to land on his feet, he could only close his eyes and try to relax as the shattering impact gave him whiplash. Stunned, the suit lay on its back, a snapped tree branch for a pillow. He watched in horror as one of the giant boulders was edged toward the precipice above him, and got out of the way just in time before it put a two-foot indentation where he had been lying. As soon as it dropped however, so did the girl, landing on top of Natalya with a blow that destroyed his communications system and caused integrity alarms to blare out. Something hissed unhealthily inside the cockpit and he guessed it was the air containment system - no more air conditioning or NBC protection. The girl proceeded to hammer the carapace until he ripped her off and hurled her as hard as he could into the ground. Face down, she immediately began to press herself up, but he stamped on her back mercilessly, driving her back down with a moan of pain.

“Goddamn it bitch just leave me alone!” He cursed, hoping to flatten the last strength out of her, but to his astonishment the suit creaked and wobbled. “You have got to be kidding me...”

Snarling through bared teeth, the girl pushed up from the floor even with the weight of the suit on her back, and the armour pilot backed away to avoid being floored again. Slowly, she turned to face the suit again, puffing with rage. Then, predictably, she ran at him once again. Dexter met the attack head on. The two crashed together, the strength of her driving them toward the next ledge, the power of the suit slowing them to a deadlock. As the dust rose between them he kicked her harshly in the abdomen, then smashed both hands down on her back, eliciting a winded gasp. Yet again, the girl – who was dwarfed by the suit – rose immediately into another attack and this time slammed herself against its torso, low, beneath the reach of its flailing hands. Dexter felt a mixture of astonishment, excitement and dread as the entire suit was lifted into the air. He couldn’t see her but he heard the girl’s guttural roar of triumph and effort as she carried him to the precipice.

“No, no, no...!” the pilot cursed despairingly as she made to heave the suit over the edge.

In desperation he clung to the girl using everything he had, firing a snare that caught around her neck, hooking the suits clumsy limbs wherever he could around her body, trying to discourage her from making the final push for fear of taking herself over with him. Natalya shook and rattled as the girl, enraged, sought to shake herself free from its embrace, but all this did was put her in range of Dexter’s arms, which he used to bearhug the girl brutally. A final scream of frustration brought them both to tipping point. The drop was forty five feet, and her effort was so great that they had spun head over heels so she was beneath, bearing the brunt of the fall. Dexter could only watch helplessly as the antithesis of his intentions played out. The girl’s red ponytail stretched straight up in the air as they fell, and she issued an uncertain whimper when she realised she was going to be under the suit at the point of impact. They smashed into the earth with a dull thud, the girl’s squeal of pain piercing through the alarms and clamour inside its metal confines. Natalya was bounced clear of the girl to roll, one arm flailing by its wires, back onto his feet and then off them backwards to careen against the hill face.

[Machao6]

Dexter could feel blood pouring out of his nose and a cut on his forehead was bringing tears to his eyes. The suits power was knocked out, but through the vision slit he could see to his wonderment that the young woman was writhing on the floor and trying to pick herself up. He hastily re-initialised the startup sequence, but as she forced herself to stand, the look of suffering on her brave face made him lose all sense of aggression. Disgusted by his actions, he popped the hatch and staggered out of the suit. Her face dropped, somehow, from a look of pained desperation to speechless surprise. He crossed carefully toward her and stopped a safe distance away. Something about his expression caused her to look up at him apprehensively. He could scarcely believe he had done anything to hurt this beauty, this tenacious and brave young lady who fought with the strength and speed of a red tiger. He’d had a multi-million buck powered suit and she had fought it to a complete standstill. He felt horribly ashamed of himself, of what anyone would say of him if this story were ever to get out – not that he’d failed to kill her, but that he even considered or entertained the idea.

“Uhh...are you alright?”

“You’re...a man?” She exclaimed abruptly in perfect Dafnese, her voice awestruck like a child. Then she seemed to remember they had been trying to kill each other and her face hardened again.
“Stay away from me, Larinthian! Don’t think that because you’re out of that tin can I’m not going to rip you open anyway...”

Dexter closed his eyes for fear of her rebuke. “I’m...I’m not a Larinthian.” 

“You’re who I saw on the bridge, aren’t you? You were spying on us!”

He nodded guiltily and tried to clear his passages so he could speak. “I heard the drums and wanted to see what was going on. When I saw...” he hesitated before continuing, unsure of how she might react to the truth.

“What did you see?” She asked calmly. When he opened his eyes again her expression had softened considerably.

“You.” He admitted seriously, and for a moment their gazes locked. “You were in some sort of contest. You were about to win it, but you slipped, and lost. Everyone cheered the winner and left you behind.”

She sat upright and hugged her knees, resting her chin on them grumpily. “Yeah. It was my trial of maidenhood, and I blew it. Now Sasha gets to go off and impress a master while I have to wait another year and do another twenty trials I can do when I practice, but not when it really matters...” She caught herself dangerously close to confiding in her erstwhile enemy and, looked at him guardedly. “I chased after you when you ran off, but all I could see was that thing. I thought you were one of the Larinthians’ machines. What were you doing?”

Dexter collapsed next to her and she sat up on crossed legs to listen to him. “After I saw there were people here I needed to find out whether you were Larinthian sympathisers or not. I’ve never been here before and to tell you the truth, I’m quite lost.”

“Well couldn’t you have just introduced yourself and asked?”

“Not really. I’m not supposed to be here. I needed the suit to perform quiet surveillance.” She looked at the sparking heap of nuts and bolts and snorted incredulously. The youth carried on despite her. “What if you’d been with them, huh? My goose’d be cooked for sure.”

The girl nodded in concession and looked him over. “So you thought you were being sneaky? Stomping around up there in that giant thing?” She clutched her stomach, evidently bruised and sore.

“That’s why you were fighting so strangely. Like when you threw me into the palm bush instead of off the cliff. I wondered about that but thought I’d just gotten lucky. You did that deliberately, didn’t you?”

Dexter didn’t look at her, but simply nodded guiltily. “Yeah. I’d tried to brush you off but I think I misjudged a few things. Hurt you. Made you mad. I didn’t realise you speak Dafnese, otherwise I’d have just asked you to stop.”

She laughed and bit her lip. “I don’t think that would have worked little man, I was pretty angry. And convinced you were a Larinthian. So if you’re not from Larinth, where are you from? And what are you doing here if you’re ‘not supposed to be here’?”

Malliard sighed. “Well...let me just be clear. You’re definitely not a Larinthian, and you don’t have anything to do with them, right?”

She leaned forward and spoke clearly for emphasis. “No. They want to kill, rape and enslave us. I’m not on best terms with them.”

“Ok, just checking. In that case, I’m part of a special mission that was sent here from the Four Nations Alliance to find out why the Larinthians are pouring armies into this jungle. We were supposed to drop in by parachute, but the plane got shot down, so I just kind of...dropped in.”

The girl laughed incredulously. “You just fell out of the sky? All by yourself?”

“Pretty much. But I wasn’t alone. There were some pilots who got royally owned by Mecane drones, and some infantrymen who have probably been scattered to the four winds and eaten by giant plants or something. I was supposed to meet up with everyone on the ground but...suffice it to say, I have no idea where anyone landed or even where we were supposed to meet up.”

“Gosh, that’s awful...so how long ago was all this?”

“About six hours.” The pilot admitted nonchalantly.

The girl shuffled closer, interestedly. “Well, how long were you supposed to be here? How are you going to get back home?”   

Dexter simply looked at her blankly, biting his lips. “I think I’m here to stay, miss.”

She made a sympathetic noise and shuffled next to him, examining the cut on his forehead with a gentle touch. “Was I hitting that hard? It felt like I was hardly making a scratch in the thing.”
Dexter gaped at her. “You fell forty feet with a tonne-and-a-half landing on top of you, and you’re sitting here fawning over my papercut? Nevermind that, how is your back? And your ribcage?”

She felt herself tenderly, causing the lad to watch with interest as her hands navigated her bruised breasts. “Fine, I think. Maybe a couple of fractures. It wasn’t a hard landing, we fell into the soil. I was so annoyed when you wrapped that string around me at the last minute.”

“But you pushed us over anyway? You’re crazy.”

“Well I knew just hitting you wouldn’t work. I had to try and break it open and get to all the stringy bits inside.” The pilot blinked at her worriedly. “I didn’t know you were inside, I’m sorry!”
Dexter laughed, even as a tear ran down his cheek. The one became several. After all his worries and shame, she was apologising to him. She even put a hand on his shoulder warmly.

“Hey, did I say something to upset you? I said I was sorry...”

“I know I’m covered in blood and we just nearly killed each other and all, but...would it be weird if we hugged? I feel like we’ve covered a lot of ground today and we might be at the hugging stage of our relationship.”

Taken aback, the girl smiled, then laughed, then flung her arms wide to receive him. Dexter threw himself at the girl one more time, this time with affection, not aggression. She held him back fiercely but not uncomfortably, and he found the idea of her checking her great strength just to avoid hurting him immensely gratifying. He squeezed her as hard as he could, wondering if it would even register , but hoping she could feel his genuine remorse in their embrace.

“I’m not crushing your ribs, am I?” He joked, hoping she would take him seriously.

“No! You’re holding me just right. You must have practiced before we met.”

“Actually...this is a first for me. It’s kind of why I wanted to try it, after all we’ve been through together. And, you know, almost dying.”
She laughed and squeezed him again, and Dexter realised this was a rare feeling to experience. Appreciation. Affection.

“Where does your back hurt? Is it here?” He asked, resting a hand on her spine between her tall shoulder blades.

“No...lower...” She whispered, and seemed to crush into him as he ran his hand down to rest in the small of her back, just where it curved out to meet her buttocks. “There. Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Yep. I’m a nerd who spies on semi-naked women from his giant robot. I don’t get out much.” He was rewarded with another warm laugh.

“Well, you fight like a horny Larinthian!” This made them both giggle. “It was pretty brave of you to just get out and start talking to me. What made you so sure I wasn’t going to splat you?”

Dexter paused to enjoy the feeling of her rubbing his back the same way he was caressing hers. “Nothing. I was actually thinking I’d kind of deserve it if you did. I never wanted to fight you, but you were way too quick to run away from. After the fall I thought I’d really hurt you, and I just wanted to stop fighting. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than I had done up to that point.” 

She stopped and put her face in front of his, challenging him. “You stamped on me!”

“Yeah. You wouldn’t stay down. I got a bit pissed off. I’d tried everything and you just kept coming back at me. I just needed you to stay where you were long enough for me to leave, you know?”

She grinned. “Well, I’m sorry to have disappointed you.” 

“You really didn’t. When you started to get up anyway it was actually really exciting. When I battered you down and you just charged in and picked the whole damn thing up, it felt really good. I was kind of happy for you in a way, that you had all this courage and strength and energy that wouldn’t be kept down. I mean, underneath my frustration about getting my ass kicked by a half-naked girl, my fear of being thrown off a forty foot drop, and concerns about my liability insurance for the damage to the suit, I was happy for you.”

“You were happy when I threw you off the cliff?”

“Happy for you. There’s a difference. It was pretty impressive to experience. Being in there gives me a certain detachment from events, it wasn’t so much like you were fighting me, but the suit. It was like watching someone do something amazing, you know?”

She played with her ponytail again, flicking the end coyly. “It was pretty heavy, but mainly it was hard because you were fighting back.” She fixed a playful gaze on him. “So if you enjoyed it when you felt detached, I wonder how you’d feel about...this!”

Dexter could only make a questioning gasp as she stood up, bringing him with her effortlessly, then hoisted him up with her arms straight under his armpits. He was completely powerless in her arms, and could only look down at her in awe and excitement as she laughed back from below. Her happy face seemed lovelier even for the mud and scrapes across her pale skin. He felt himself becoming uncontrollably aroused and, where his package was level with her face, she couldn’t help but notice with an amused giggle. She let him drop a few inches to rest on her bust, crushing his erect member against them with her arms wrapped tight around his thighs. “I think you were happy for yourself, that time.” She declared with a lick of her lips.

“I am so glad I got out of the damned suit...” He breathed, and she giggled again.

* * * * * *