I want a dom to edge me until I'm so hard and leaky and desperate that they can easily slide a thick dildo inside me. Once I'm filled up with it's length they pull up my boxers and kiss me goodnight, "good boy, have sweet dreams." They coo as I whine about how I can't possibly sleep when my cock is this hard and my cunt is this full. They snuggle up into me, capturing my wrists so I won't be tempted to rub myself for relief and after a lot of throbbing and complaining I manage to drift off. The dildo begins to slide out as my body relaxes and the friction makes my hips buck, I start to moan and slowly fuck myself on the cock trapped inside me under my clothes. My dom wakens and starts to rub my cock through my boxers, "oh my poor needy boy," they say, as the dildo rocking in and out of my hole makes obscene noises. As the pleasure crescendos and my eyes roll and my gasping moans attempt to form words, "please can I cum?" they kiss my panting lips, "you want to cum?" they repeat, laughing as I nod desperately, "oh," they move their hands to still my hips, "that's too bad," they hold me steady while I groan and whine and ache, "shhh, go back to sleep," they smirk, "maybe in your dreams."
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Another day, another god damn call to deal with one of her hounds. Not the best way to end the day, mission stats were average as always, no ace pilots in her pack for damn sure. But this hound, this fucking hound was always causing her problems.
Ma'am there was an error with the the hounds life support systems.
Be specific god dammit, is it dead?
No ma'am but its vitals are elevated, we think there was a problem with the post combat sedatives.
You THINK?
The mechanic took a hesitant step back, even her staff were WEAK
Whatever, just get it out of there.
It seems to have activated the manual lock in.
(Of course, of fucking course)
God dammit, just get me connected to the cockpits communication system and get the hell out of my way, I'll handle this.
The sound of static as she connects to the mechs frequency is enough to give her a headache if she didnt already have one. Finnaly the noise clears and she can clearly hear her hounds ragid breathing.
Hound open up!
*Silence*
Hound this is your handler release the extraction hatch now!
...please...leave us alone..
The hell did you say?! Just what do you think you are asking things of your handler!?
*Silence*
OPEN THE HATCH J-21! THATS AN ORDER.
..please...dont take me from her.
God fuc- WORTHLESS MUTT!
The slam of a fist meant for the hound itself rings across the metal plating.
Fuck this.
HANDLER OVERIDE CODE Alpha Uniform Golf two dash five, open extraction hatch 1A
(Of course I'd have to deal with this today)
the mechanism releases with a hiss. Steam seeps out of the cracks as servos part the metal plating, exposing the cockpit and its sole inhabitant. Small and frail, the hounds eyes squint adjusting to the light. When the hound opens its eyes it's muzzle only barely conceals its look of terror as its handler gazes down at it.
A single step is all it takes to cause the hound to really start panicking.
NO NO PLEASE IM SORRY NO DON'T DON'T TAKE ME FROM HER SHE NEEDS ME PLEASE!
QUIET
the hound shrinks as close as it can into its seat, trying to dissappear or hoping that its metallic body can save it now the way it has so many other times.
Come HERE
She grabs onto the hounds collar pulling harshly, it takes barely any effort to drag the malnourished creature from its cradle.
NO NO IM SORRY IM SORRY SHE NEEDS ME LET ME BE WITH HER SHE NEEDS ME SHE NEEDS ME!
SHUT, UP
She throws her dog to the catwalk floor and pulls her side arm from its holster, flipping the safety off with the oh so satisfying *Ctick*
It's metal polish reflects like a mirror. The image of her hound distorted in its surface as its pressed against the mutts forehead.
Listen, VERY closely hound.
Your assigned MECH is not a SHE.
IT, is an IT just like YOU.
And IT most certainly does NOT need you.
BUT B-BUT SHE DOES SHE DOES SH-SHES COLD SHE CANT MOVE WITHOUT ME SHE C-CANT BREATH SHE NEE-
*WHACK*
A firm hit from the barrel brings the hounds muzzle falling to the catwalk.
OPEN
The hounds conditioning forces its mouth to fall open without protest. the cold metal of her handler's favorite weapon sliding between the mutt's lips.
*CcclicK* the hammer pulls back, and a wave of fear silences the hound.
You need to learn hound, your mech does not need you, it would work just as well if not BETTER with another, preferably more OBEDIENT hound in its chassy.
You are EXPENDABLE.
Your mech does not need you
Your squad mates do not need you
And I Do not need you.
Tears fall from the hounds wide eyes. The salt stings a scrape left by the metal muzzles violent removal.
Look at me hound. Do you understand?
The hound just sobs quietly, eyes squeezed shut to stop the tears. It shouldn't cry, it knows handler doesn't like it when it cries.
This is the LAST time I will repeat myself to you. Do you understand?
The hound opens her eyes. It has to be good. It has to be good. It has to be good. For her. Please don't. Please don't throw it away.
...Yef hanbler...
SPEAK UP!
YEF HANBLER!
...No praise comes, no reward for finnaly behaving, the hound went too far, and it knows it.
YOU
She snaps at the nearest gaurd.
Bring this hound to the isolation ward. I'll deal with it later.
The hound is dragged to its feat, it weak body stumbling along the catwalk. It does not dare to look back at its handler as its pulled away.
Once the hound is out of sight an exausted handler finnaly lets out a groan of exhaustion decocking the hammer of her revolver, switching its safety back on and holstering it, her prized weapon denied it's release for yet another day.
She is certainly not looking forward to cleaning the filth of her hounds saliva off her prized possession, but letting that her treasure be stained is not an option.
Handler kneels down to the catwalk floor, picking up the dented muzzle, afixing it around a loop on her belt. When the hound has learned its lesson, the muzzle will be waiting for it.
All in good time.
Her eyes meet the timid mechanics. Sizing her up before she trusts her with anything too important. Before quickly deciding she's too tired to care.
Ensure its post combat sedatives are properly adjusted next time. Another incident like this, and I might need a new hound.
Her eyes linger on the mechanics just a little longer before the mechanic gives a weak yes ma'am and quickly excuses herself.
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ᯓ ❤︎ I’m so wet right now, I want a pretty lady’s finger or strap to fuck me hard and rough until I can’t feel my pussy throbbing. I want her to use me to her advantage, make me so stupid she’d mock me for being a slut.
