Warframe [Sihroa Rok] - The pressure of bronze

 

Summary | Always at the ready to listen to him ramble on, Natalie assumes it'd be all the same as he requests time between her patrols. Maybe about the technology of the past, or to complain about his counterparts going about their own lives once more - but as he explains concern about a new and strange feeling that swarms somewhere in his stomach, and as they narrow it down beneath duviri's ghostly skies. It takes more than words to resolve his newest conundrum. 

Characters |  Natalie (Gyre) & Arali (Drifter
Contents | Trans Masc Drifter, Femdom, First time, Oral sex, Fingering, Fisting
Length | 6,947w

Eager whispers greet her as electricity dances along her spine.

It drafts impatient as lone she stands among the expanse of an overwrought garden, energy spent without relief as it paces erratic through the surrounding air and the metal coated skirt. Disengaged, attention drawn towards the silent whispers of angel’s and the lack of radio chatter, the gyre lets her joints pop in a rhythmic stretch as she stands in stance. Leaning back as far as her metal sleeved torso allows as air exchanges through the plates between her ribcage and her energized skin, waiting on the tender dissipation.

A prolonged grunt, grumbling about intruders as she waits for the buzzing to subside, attention turns. “Wh.whr.uh.akn.fuh.ain?” her codices chirp with the dance of electricity, pitch decayed as attention is more made to returning to the elevator from which she came, correcting the process as she sounds herself back to audible tones. “What do you need, Rali.”

A trace pinch runs up along her spine, and pays it no mind as it lasts for a split second as he stands in the shadow of her brisk pace. Not waiting as the transference residue drifts between their bodies as he shakes the sensation through his gloved palms. Heavily strapped throat to boots, he’s no more suited for the maintenance tunnels of coolant tower than for the ghastly refuse of yet another corpus slaughter. Though his attention remains advert - not for the bodies they walk past as the haunts of the Zariman’s starving angels suffice their infinite hunger, for something far more distant as it’s the gyre’s hand that stops his distracted pace.

“Sorry,” he blurts, swallowing a sigh as they begin to walk again.

“I do get busy playing guardian, Rali,” her codices have sufficiently calmed to their natural tone, her featureless gaze watching as the denizen runs a gloved hand over the straps of his opposing limb. Her heels click as she continues. “If you just wanted to talk...”

Nipping against his lip, adverting his gaze before returning to pace. “It’s not something that’s easy to talk about, Natalie.”

A hollow chuff rises from the gyre as her voice briefly cracks, dancing herself to turn walking backwards. “Nothing is, Rali. Or do you wish to confide in me once again?”

Behind glasses his golden eyes flicker between her and the doorway just beyond; ‘escape!’ blaring as it’d be so easy to just slip back through her, avoid the conversation all together as his steps are accented by the swirling dirt beyond even that of Zariman’s abandoned halls. “Of course,” he groans as he continues to follow her, running hands through his hair as Duviri’s winds tussle them. “Well, you know everything, so...”

“That place in past earth, Höllvania, I do remember last you came crying to me,” for a moment she feels her step hitch, from the cold metal of the Zariman to the soft trails of the effervescent Duviri as she makes the proper adjustments to compensate. “If you’ve come to rant and blame yourself for trapping them in the cycle -”

“It’s not-” Arali catches his starting snarl, forcing himself to breath and to continue preoccupying his anxious hands as they continue towards the elevator. “It’s, not that. Eternalism and all that, the basic level that I couldn’t just leave them to their fates like that. Talking through it has,” a bitter groan catches between his teeth, “has helped, for all of us even through I’m still struggling with the whole... power concept thing.”

“Do you fear it,” Natalie looks him over, “and when the year ends; wondering if they will remember you, if you will remember them. Is that what worries you?”

“I-” lips pressed flattened as he thinks, ducking beneath the branch of a tree obscured to Natalie’s reality grounded sensors. “Maybe, I’m not sure,” breathes as he continues to follow, “I still disassociate about it - I’m trying not to think about it too much. A lot, actually - there’s still a couple weeks left until I have to come to terms with it. I rather keep it that way.”

“Until you need to,” the warframe sighs as they step into the elevator, briefly directing it towards the residential block as her attention remains on him. “Cut it out. You know what’s going to come, so plan accordingly and help them along.”

“But -” an excuse is bitten to his tongue. “I don’t want to lose feeling ‘normal’ like I do around them - what if the cycles make them forget me? What if I forget them? And I don’t know what it’s like when I don’t have control over... this. I have that power over them; what if it goes wrong, what if I fuck it up and make it worse?”

“That means you care around them, Rali,” Natalie sighs, watching the elevator traverse through the Zariman’s core, feeling the essence of Duviri ebbing off the man standing beside her. “Just take it all one step at a time. Don’t over think it, don’t catastrophize. You’ll figure it out,” she glances back at him, “but, I have a feeling that’s not all you wanted to talk about.” A pause, “you usually would go to Warren for this. No?”

Arali keeps his hands entertained as he looks over the void energy that continues to course through the derelict, and of Duviri’s own emerald blanketed skies. “Well, given how I would talk about him.”

“Ah,” she looks back towards the energy with a sigh, “about a dozen or hundred rants.”

The flicker of a brow goes unnoticed. “Well,” his hands continue their preoccupations, raised as he tries to conceptualize his words after two or so pauses. “Well, you know how I was all, jealous about him getting a normal life and I got stuck in Duviri. And Jacob has Ordis and the Lotus, and all that family.” The gyre only nods. “Well, now since I’ve been in Höllvania, with the Hex. I’ve had this... energy I haven’t been able to work out. It’s been running me up the walls that no matter how many times I’ve thrown myself into running sabotages, or reconnaissance, or getting constantly shot at while trying to trim down the Scaldra. I haven’t been able to exhaust that energy - it’s annoying, I haven’t been able to feel exhausted at all.”

“Is it from being overwhelmed?” Natalie balances on her other heel as she waits, the elevator door long lifted as he was putting together his words.

“No - and - that’s frustrating!” Arali continues to stumble over his words, hands kneading at his armor and sleeves. “I haven’t felt exhausted since the year began - not in the ways I’m used to. Sure. There’s moments here or there where I just collapse and rest, but I keep finding myself bouncing around various tasks - and while the Hex have been so open for me to do more, they’ve said it worries them. That I just can’t stop - even Amir, the volt of the group, is worried.” Nervous, watching the gyre’s impatient pace, Arali rubs his nape. “And I just, don’t know how to deal with any of those positive feelings towards me - Warren told me a little about it when we talked, but I just thought he was lying. Making me feel better about being some broken reflection he pulled from the void.” His steps continue to ease between the fields of Duviri and the confines of the Zariman, even more so as they approach the door of the open dormizone. “And I just - I noticed these feelings I have towards them, aggressive ones. Towards the Hex, towards Lettie. Nothing violent... at least they don’t feel violent but I don’t know how to put any of those thoughts or feelings into a box while I still don’t understand where they’re coming from and why I’m feeling them.” His attention shifts back towards the warframe occupying the doorway, midway through the arch into the fields of Duviri’s vast farmlands as Natalie stares him down. “And I still want to feel more of that - but it feels wrong. And it’s lurid, tempting, like a poison.”

“Explain.”

Crossed, he glares at her, “explain what, Natalie?”

Still pausing in the doorway, Natalie blocks him from proceeding through the traverse, “explain to me in detail. What do you mean when you say that, from the lack of exhaustion to those aggressive feelings, what does it all feel like.” And she parts the veil where the golden fields of Duviri’s eternal sunshine are curtained by teal swirling clouds.

And so, unplugging the cork, the drifter begins to ramble. He starts from the beginning as he recounts the final hours before the cycle begins again; the sorrow that hung in his heart, the anger that he keeps pinned close to his chest, how very close he held that fear, that envy, the blissful joy he sheltered himself shatters. How he’d ramble to Albrecht’s kavat Kalymos as he’d get into yelling matches with Arthur; the pang of embarrassed honesty as he recalls conversations he had with Aoi, with Eleanor; of catching himself so far into an emotional state Lettie has to sit him off to the side so he collect himself away from the rest; of getting so flustered after days of positive interactions he transfers into a warframe shell, not speaking with any of them for days on end only to end up crawling to them and apologizing profusely. To which try as she might, Natalie tries to keep the topic straight as he walks in circles.

“I got so used to Quincy’s directness - when he asked me tell me something that’d make me hate him,” Palms squeeze against his forearms, staring out into Duviri’s vast skies, where the Zariman continues to loom. “I broke down; I couldn’t understand. It was a whole ordeal,” he rubs the blubbering tears from his eyes, still speaking through a cracking voice. “I told him everything, what happened on there, what I did to my parents. And what happens after I gave up with trusting him, trying to shove down those feelings? He comes back to me, not just apologizing - he was as afraid as I was. And.”

“And, after you spent so long isolated, are still learning how to navigate those strong feelings.” Natalie pushes herself from the tree she was leaning against, patting him on the back.

“Right,” Arali sighs as he tries to clean himself up, wiping the overflow from his face. “But even though it hurt to talk about... it was a relief. It was as though I died. It gave me that same sensation of relief. And as I’ve gotten closer to them, that relief has felt constant, and I’ve been having those aggressive, primal urges when we’re sharing a drink. Or anytime they’ve made it feel good.” Looking to his hands he can only watch as the tears and the snot and the overflow of emotions are wiped away. Gone like that even as his lungs and chest still weighs heavy. “It’s... strange. Foreign. It makes me feel light and I just want to get up and move.”

“Can you give me an example, Rali?” The gyre watches the man pace upon the trail before her.

“Okay, Lettie. I told you about her before, the team medic. She mentioned opening up one of my shells to understand how they’re put together, in case any of them get critically injured. But since my shells can only exist when I’m occupying them - I explained that to her. And she gave one of her cute laughs, called me a ‘cadáver’ as I was operating in a trinity and wanted to get to know herself better.” Brows crossed, “I... went silent and thought about it for a moment. I’ve already undergone worse, you know?”

Natalie gives him a tilted look, “and how did it feel?” She sighs.

“Lettie was surprised I’d take up the offer!” His voice cracks, “my chest felt warm. It felt like my chest was filling up with blood but there was nothing and I just let her get back to work after handing her cleaned tools I took back with me to the kid’s orbiter.”

“Did you feel anything beyond that?” Her head tilts lower, a gesture as she notes out a patrol further up the path. “Like in your stomach?”

Arali glances at the slow moving patrol, leading them further down the trail to a more secluded location beyond the lunaro court. “Not really? There was a little warmth in my lower stomach like I was getting prodded there with a warm rod.” The man shrugs, thinking nothing of it as he continues. “It lingers for a while, so I just keep myself distracted until it goes away.”

He’s not looking as the gyre looks to the sky above them, a pair of fingers pinching the crest of her cranium as beneath the splashes of water her codex scrambles. “You,” she sighs, “I’m going to be blunt about this; but have you ever investigated further?”

“No, why? It doesn’t seem to be something that important. It goes away on its own.”

“Have you ever felt warmth in that area before you met them, or Lettie specifically.”

Arali’s brows draw tight as he tries to think. “Maybe? I only associated it with being disemboweled, Natalie.”

Natalie massages her temple, “could you mind pointing out where?”

He looks back at her crossed, pointing towards his crotch. “Why?”

“Rali,” she pauses her codices for a moment to keep her tone low, “that’s arousal. You haven’t even once; in the years you’ve been cycled here; touched there even once?”

Arali is taken aback, more giving her a quizzical look as the two rodents that seem to be occupying his brain try to spin the wheel. “Isn’t that just a heightened state of alertness? Arousal can come from intense violence, or from a challenging game of Komi. Why’s that such a big deal?”

“It’s -sexual- arousal, Rali.” The gyre groans, “of all the,” she almost seems to walk off, pacing back as the drifter watches her with more annoyance than concern. “You haven’t masturbated at all? Even once?” His brow rises, rattling the rodents in his brain once more before the warframe before him gives up. “Masturbated, jacked off, five finger shuffle; you haven’t once wondered how your body looked there? Even with the void scarring?”

Arali shakes his head, very slowly. “I... haven’t thought about that. Should,” voice paused, wheel free spinning, “should I be concerned about it? Is it serious?”

“You’ve,” Natalie has to pause herself from screaming at him, drawing her hands up between them to calm herself. “You’ve been jealous about what Warren has, and you haven’t even investigated a major part of his entire relationship with Malik?”

“Physical contact and organic maintenance?”

“Yeah, the first one,” its Natalie’s turn to piece together her words. “But the more intimate kind of contact, not the burying hands in guts kinda of intimate contact.”

“You’re losing me, Natalie,” Arali stares from where sits on the sands beside the water, glancing as a golden maw snaps up out of the water. “I’ve had hands in my guts before, it’s not exactly pleasant.”

Time for another approach, Natalie has to reassure herself. “After these instances of feeling warmth in that area of your body, have you had any.” She pauses, looking at the space around her, “outlier thoughts? Anything you would normally not find yourself thinking, as for example being under someone.”

Looking from her and back to the water, his hands rest upon his knees. “Well, sometimes I think about what if we followed through on the teasing. With Lettie, I can’t stop thinking about the leash comment Quincy made, that it was more of her thing. And her suggestion, and the whispers of encouragement as I help her around the makes-shift clinic.” He shifts, looking back to the warframe standing beside him. “This type of arousal you’re speaking about - as intimate contact,” he grimaces for a second, “does it hurt.”

“It doesn’t have to,” the gyre sighs. “Look, if you need some guidance to figure it out, I’ll help. But that steel vault of a brain like yours needs to relax, just go with what feels -good-. Physically and mentally. It always depends on who you’re with, what you want to do, and what equipment you have down there.” She partly gestures from her crossed arms, “we warframes can decide what we have, how they work, how they feel. And if you want to get intimate, it’s best to figure out before than in the heat of the moment.”

Arali pushes off his knees as he stands, “should I use Kur?” Manifestations of the void, sand mimics that peer around his boots as he steps, following the warframe as they travel further down the path.

“Sure,” Natalie breathes. “It’d be best if we’re somewhere isolated - even given this place, I rather not risk dealing with one of those patrols.” Less in danger, more in her growing impatience. “Since we’re on the way - have you ever given it such thought? Even in passing if it wasn’t sexually related.”

“Not at all,” he brushes pass, “I can’t see down there - and it’s not like Duviri has any mirrors since there was none aboard the Zariman that I can recall. And even if I did at some point in time, the void scars are more a part of me than whichever occupies that part of my body.” His mind continues to drift back to what the medic had said to him before; the light praises, her laugh, when she would drop her voice low to keep the rowdy ones in line. Along the edges of his hood the bronze hands drift around along his throat, and he rubs against it as they come to a stop beneath an overhang of the spiraling pools.

With a sigh and a stretch, Natalie begins to let her fingers part below. “Go ahead and link the synchrony, you can copy off me until you’ve decided.”

Glancing back Arali’s attention drops to where her fingers have begun to spread, “fine,” he breathes, and merges their senses. As he lets himself sit along the sandy banks, he feels the budding warmth that begins to play in that lowest anatomy - where he can feel her steely fingers play just play beneath the weight of her metal flesh skirt. Feeling as fingers stroke against his inner thighs as the kur follows beneath his clothes, dancing along the sensory mesh as he adjusts his position upon the sand and as she stands beneath the overhang.

“Right now,” her fingers move across them, “I’m touching the outside of my groin, unlike you humans, ours stay internal until they’re ready to come out.” Fingers divide across the metal plate centered upon her crotch, strumming as they move further below against the material that covers her loins and thighs, “here, the crotch, is where most of the arousal will center upon. Though the mind can invigorate it with fantasies, it can also cloud judgment over how it will be sated.”

Arali lets his kur follow the warframe’s exploring fingers, letting his mind follow the trace that coils through the sensory mesh as along their crotch fingertips glide up and down. Though he stares out to the distance, as the golden somatic sight gleans into a circle in a sea of darkness, his fingers twitch upon his knees as he breathes - exhaling a breath he had begun to withhold. “Does everyone feel it the same way?”

“No,” Natalie breathes as her fingers part along the moisture laden seam of her body, “for humans, it depends on what they’re born with. They can modify it, to an extent, but they’re nothing like what you’ll feel from me, Rali.” From behind she can see him adjusting upon the sand, as the hands that crawl from the creases of his armor and the edges of his clothes try to fight their way out of the confines. “My seam is beginning to split - do you wish to see?” Natalie continues to tease out the flesh as she waits for him to respond; watching as he continues to shift in his clothing, as a palm kneads upon his pant leg as the wandering echoes of kur continues to distract him. She can see where it bulges beneath his clothing, pushing against the material as the sand molded mimics squeeze themselves into the narrow spaces.

The drifter breathes as he feels some relief in his crotch, pulling against the fabric as the touches continue beneath. Tender traces that follow around the seam of the warframe’s internal anatomy, feeling the wet slickness gleaning across his fingers as they as well knead against his pant leg. Eyes lingering low, he follows along the sensations as he breathes, listening to the chime of Natalie’s skirt as her hand continues to move. It’s only when she pauses, fingers gliding up her stomach does he finally snap out of the trance, glancing back at her as if to ask why she stopped. “Continue?”

“Well, do you want to see what it looks like?” She repeats the question with a twinge of annoyance, fingers hooking between her legs and gleaning against the shapes just beneath.

“Of course,” he watches her, adjusting himself as he feels the fingers pushing inward into warmth. “Does it hurt?” Arali shuffles, uncomfortable at first with a slow exhale as he sinks.

“No,” she sighs, “they’re organs, not a wound.” Her fingers spread the wetness he felt, tilting her hips to show him from where she stands. “Usually, they’re for reproduction, but are also for leisure, and pleasure, and to bond with others. This,” she spreads herself again, “is more of a vulva, but if that’s not what you want to try, then I can change over to a phallus.” Looking down at him from where she stands, her fingers play against the sensory mesh, Natalie watching the gears turning as he sighs - certain the voice of a medic is playing in the back of his mind. “Well?”

With a brief pause, Arali shifts to kneel. “Natalie, could you come closer?”

“Want to have a closer look?” chuckles as she steps closer - again spreading the folds of her softened seam as they’ve drafter wider as she plays, watching him twitch with each broad stroke among her loins. Natalie saunters one step at a time, metal fingers dividing between the folds of wet flesh with a sigh, “this is what you’re feeling.” Her fingers sink into the cream folds and pet along the thick tentacles waiting at the edges of her seam.

He glances up as she moves closer, sight flickering between the warmth that spreads down between his thighs and the watchful attention of the gyre before him. Each finger takes their time burying down deep between the petals of flesh, watching as each slow draw leaves wisps of moisture out before the next takes its turn. As his own body reacts as the kur follows the sensations to his own, splitting the sensation as he wets dried lip. The metal that once placed upon her mound against the base of her skirt twitches, seating a heft of tentacles where her palm continues to rest as fingers continue to move, spreading the thickening folds as the mimics reciprocate. Aralis shifts against the moisture in his pants.

 Arali raises a hand to her shin, looking up beyond the arch of her electrified skirt. “Can I?”

“Go right ahead,” Natalie hums, lifting her finger to the pelvic arch of her skirt as curious hands begin to wander.

Adjusting upon his knees as hands continue to wander beneath his armor, Arali uses Natalie’s slim thighs as an anchor as he moves in. Gloved fingertips graze over the smooth texture skin as below the kur follows suit, running themselves between his thighs as his zeroed sight falls on the open mound presented before him. Though his hands wander close, it’s his own breath he feels first, watching as she copies his own body as the folds and nubby tentacles flex. Where warmth has crawled across his features, finding him staring, clawed fingers digging through his hair brings him back, encouraging as fingertips push at the back of his skull.

“Take your time,” her codices click as his curious hands cradle in the crest of her thighs. “Go ahead and talk me through your thoughts.”

Gloved fingers trace along the edges of the gyre’s seam, one curious finger at a time as he steadies himself upon Natalie’s thigh as below the kur continues to play. “Is there any limit to what arousal can include?” His thumb strokes against the heft below her metal plate, and shivers before a swallow.

“No,” coos as her fingers curl through his brown hair, “sometimes, it can include the same thing over and over again. And others can mean trying new sensations to attain the same goal of sexual release. There’s no limit to how one reaches it,” she sighs as his breath graces around her cream flesh, watching his shoulders tense before he draws in again. “Since it all copies across our bodies, do you want to try with your mouth?” Her codices chirp, “tell me what those hands are doing under there.”

“Well,” Arali breathes as he shuffles in his clothing, as the hands of kur curl around the boundaries of his pants as they run across his body in slow deliberate motions. “They’re running along my body,” his attention returns to the distraction of her flesh, searching for that engulfing warmth as it continues along his own loins. “Stroking along my arms, my chest,” his gloves slide against the velvet soft flesh as he leans in once more, thumb running back along the sensitive spot as his forefinger divides between the cream folds. “It feels like fingers are digging into my stomach,” he breathes, “gently squeezing me.”

“Foreplay,” Natalie chuckles, “what comes to mind when you feel them like this?”

“Well,” Arali breathes as two fingers press against the waiting warmth, his mouth searching as the metal arches of her skirt impedes a direct angle, arching himself lower as she tilts for him. “It’s not quite a massage,” and shivers as his own exhaled breath strokes between his thighs. “Sometimes I think of when I was being interrogated, strapped down with bands tight around my stomach, holding me there as I wait in the dark cold of a cell.” He composes himself, letting one finger to continue explore as his mouth finds against the velvety soft tentacles along the outer rim, lapping them as fingers dig through his curls. “Lettie,” he comes up for air, “sometimes I think of her. As she extracts materials from dead techrot, her steady hands cutting into their bodies.” And mouths against the soft flesh, “she had to before, cut into me I mean. I was an idiot and stood too close to an explosion and got a piece of shrapnel embedded in my arm.”

“Focus on what you feel right now, Rali,” she pulls his hair, titling his head back. “We can indulge in fantasy after we settle what parts you like.”

Invited as Natalie tilts her hips, “yes,” Arali breathes, adjusting himself against the sand.

Temple pressing against the arch of her skirt his mouth continues to graze - against himself as he feels each movement coil below in his own forsaken anatomy. As his fingers prod around in that inviting warmth buried beneath the thickening tentacles and folds, he licks along the tender edges of Natalie’s opening, the exhale of air breathes into his own sensory body. Fingers continue to explore beneath his armor as kisses are slow to place upon that heft of tentacles she once placed beneath her palm, upon the crest of her opened seam as electricity seems to shoot up his spine with each graze of his lips. Still he keeps fingers against her soft flesh as his tongue explores against the indulging pleasure, feeling pressure rubbing against his face before claws grip into his hair and pulls him to catch his breath.

Licking his mouth clean of the mucus expressed from her opened body, he looks up at Natalie with his void sunken sight. “That spot near the top,” he pays no mind as kur palms continue to run along his hips, as fingertips begin to dance upon his exposed hips.

“Do you like it?” Natalie purrs, spreading her flesh before him as they flex.

He nods.

“Everyone has that spot they love,” she charms, “sometimes its outside - sometimes its inside.” Her hand presses upon the base of her torso, codices grunting as the directed flesh begins to shift. “Then let’s try something a little different -” and her body begins to bloom. The short nubs along the rim of her seam lengthen into fans, the folds of cream thickening around the core, the heft of tentacles beginning to grow towards his nose as each exhale is drawn closer and closer as he watches the makeshift erection bounce. “Let’s try this, Rali. Go ahead.”

“Oh wow,” Arali almost chuckles, “how do I?” A glance upwards.

“Put your mouth on it,” Natalie’s codices purr, pulling on his hair.

“Right,” and he leans in once more.

An unintended grunt rolls through his throat as the radiating warmth pulses against his awaiting lips, breathing in deep her slick moisture that already coats one unattended palm. Letting his sight linger half-lid, Arali’s mouth is parted by his void dark tongue as he eases it along the draft of her tender erection, seeking for that shock along his spine as another sensation buries within his forsaken loins. As the hands of kur continue to play against his sensory body, as it fists around the hem of his pants, his focus remains on the warmth he continues to welcome in. Open breaths let his tongue stoke before his mouth fixes around the soft erection laid before him, suckling as his hips jerk, trying to follow as she stands steady as curling fingers fix him in place

Though they are gentle as he draws back, lapping the slick of drool from his chip before he welcomes it in once again, at the whim of phantom hands as his hips shift back, legs drawing close, and spread again as a new shiver runs up his spine, pulling himself away as a strong breeze brushes not against her sensory flesh. Beneath his clothes he still feel the hands massaging along his body, feeling against his heaving chest, along the graces of his ribs - but further he feels the air running against his exposed skin, his wandering glove pressing beneath the weight of his soft stomach.

Arali only continues to pull himself around her warmth as gloved fingers find their treasure - the forest of hair that belies his forsaken organs, feeling around as he continues to lap around her coiling tentacles. From one to another his attention wavers - fully ready to just copy what he has in front of him, to let himself indulge as the hands grow in their scale against his thighs. Where cool metal mimicry hails against his warmed skin, guiding his posture to adjust as his hand continues to explore his own anatomy. For a girth as she shifts her hips against his mouth, for moisture as his tongue laps against the fanning flesh just beneath as she rubs against his scarred cheek.

“How are you doing, Rali?” Natalie purrs as she pulls him away, looking further down at his gloved hand petting between his spreading legs. “You seem to be enjoying yourself now, would you like some assistance?”

He nods, licking moisture from his mustache and beard. “I’d appreciate it,” he groans as the palms against his thighs force him down to sit, to watch as Natalie strokes herself above him.

“If you want,” she breathes, watching as the bronze hands along his thighs forces his legs to widen as his gloved palm continues its search, “I can direct them for you - the kur.”

Feverish, Arali nods.

Stepping around him her metal digits pull through his hair again, forcing his head back as through the traverse her other hand becomes his own - dividing against his hairy crotch with a hum. “Relax,” his hand moves along the obscured mound as the metal fingers along his thighs press against his skin, forcing his legs as wide as they’d go, another pulling against his armor to better angle his hips for easy access. “You will feel a little bit of pressure at first,” her codices purr as his eyes slip closed, his breath halted for a moment as she guides his fingers into himself. “There we go, Rali,” she rolls his head, directing his fingers to move along the new found sensations, spreading new flesh to the gust of Duviri’s winds before digging down knuckle deep. “What you’re feeling is a vulva - the start of one,” she guides another to prod as moisture rolls along his gloved fingers, watching him shiver as he takes another of his own fingers.

“Natalie,” bubbles through his throat as he peers through half-lid eyes, watching her as his hand is moved again, spreading his flesh to air once more as metal fingers knead along his inner thighs.

“Yes?” she purrs as she feels the pleasure rolling up his spine, as her loins twitch as she continues to finger him with his own hand. Though the kneading hands along her thighs she can’t feel, she can feel the other pressure placed along his body - further beyond his own fluid soaking glove as she continues to play.

“Is there other ways to feel this pressure?” Arali continues to ride his hand.

“Well,” she explores him, stroking down between his thighs where curious fingers of kur press against another hole. “Of course,” her attention returns to his front, stroking at the peak of his growing arousal. “There are many ways to feel that pressure growing inside you, but some need to be stretched out,” three fingers explore him to groan, shuffling in the makeshift confines as he leans towards his captive palm. “And everyone has a universal hole back there - do you want to explore it?”

“Maybe,” Arali groans, gasping as the hands have chosen for him - slipping into his body for an instant, making him shudder as Natalie’s gloved hand curls his pelvis still. “Is this what you meant,” sighs as his gloved palm strokes beyond his vision, “by sexual pleasure?”

“Well,” Natalie drops the grip she has on his hair, watching as the hands of kur replace it with their own - forcing him back against the ground, spreading his knees as she melds her motions with his own. Stroking along the cream erection as he wallows to the attentive hands. “If that what feels good to you, then yes.” She continues to walk around him, eyeing the tugging hands forcing his arms beneath his body, watching as metallic hands attend around his exposed crotch.

“Mhm,” the drifter groans as fingers continue to knead between his thighs. Touches that go from rough grazes to slicken wet, as fingers press against the exposed strip of his stomach and guiding further between his legs as fantasy takes over. “Sometimes,” he grunts as fingers pry for his internal warmth, spreading his flesh for inviting digits to explore his fresh organs, “I think about this scar from the void, and how painful I feel outside the void,” his voice gasps as fingers pervade his body to give in - knuckles burying themselves against his flesh as moisture laden grips stroke hips to twitch. “How the void chewed me up - what else could it have taken from me - ah!” Arali quivers as a bronze hand finds inside his accompanying warmth, stroking upwards against his pelvis before the moisture is left vacant and spreads him wide.

“Well don’t worry about that now,” Natalie stokes herself as she watches him writhe, testing their connection as she squeezes around the base. For a moment his voice goes hoarse, hips twitching, before she releases him. “Try to focus on one, Rali.”

“I don’t want to,” he drools as his arms are moved to reside over his head, yanked by bronze palms and seized there as the kur spreads his knees to lift - pushing them into the air to better access his desire as fingers fight for his holes. Arali can only watch with downturned eyes as his boots are lifted to the air before him, can only feel as finger thrusts become stronger - longer as many chaotic touches roll into waves. He can feel as hands spread his skin for others to better access his aching warmth, others jerking along his anxious desire as he still can’t see beyond the scarf and armor. His mind alternates between the strokes and the thrusts - of being filled until his legs are quivering, left empty as fingers dance his own spread fluids along an aching shaft. Indecisive; he’s taken breathless as the thrusts into his body become firmer - as curious fingers take to press against his lower hole.

“There you go,” Natalie coos as she watches the metal hands formed from the surrounding sands spreads his ass, playing against the narrow hole. “Gentle now - you don’t want to hurt anything, do you?”

“Mnhm,” Arali breathes against the thumb buried between his teeth, helpless as every little touch brings him to whimper, as every hearty thrust pushing between his folds presses against the tender spot before another takes its place - thumbs stroke against his engorged lips as the muted strokes still continue with attentive fingers. Metal fingers pull against his spread legs as his ass is brought up from the sands, as a group of palms have continued to stroke against the ring of muscle no longer sealed.

His voice slurs as she stands over him, idly stroking herself as he takes another hand within his loosened needing walls. It gapes his new found vulva as more hands attend to his lower hole, as fingers stroke against the toyed muscle, as pairs and trios force themselves down to the palm within him uncoordinated and obscene as fewer hands attend to his parted labia. A mess drools beneath him as the metal hands slowly find their own rhythm, directed by his lurid desires for more pressure as his body continues to take more and more - fucked by fingers and fists, shattering him to quiver as his hands curl into his hair, back fighting against the restraints as he begins to scream.

Looking up as the fingers continue to assault his innards; thrusts quakes his hips, still able to see his legs bouncing with each stern pressure pushing into his his body, he sees her above him, her exposed cream lips and thick erection bouncing. ‘You’re too loud,’ the voice kneels above him, legs sealing his arms to the ground, made to writhe and quiver and shake as a fist pushes into him once more. ‘We better shut you up before the guards come,’ and it slides against his face - and he eagerly breathes it in, burying his nose into the encompassing warmth as moisture drools down his chin.

“Rali,” Natalie seems to laugh as his eyes draw open again - still made to stare at the sky, still able to see his boots sway as his body is toyed with by the bronze hands. “Rali,” she speaks again, resting a boot upon his chest as she watches him groan, as he takes another of the metal hands burrowing into his body as they trade between holes. “You’re so impatient,” her codices chirp as she pushes weight upon his chest, watching him shutter and gasp as a hand pushes inside him once more. “You’re just like Yauc, so desperate to get fucked under that steel exterior,” she relieves the pressure, idly stroking her remaining erection. “Well at least you’ll have your kur to keep you busy,” she sighs as she steps over him.

“Mhn,” he groans, licking his lips as the hands continue to dance between his legs, “how do I stop?”

“When your body is ready, I suppose,” she shrugs, “or when you’ve had enough of the fantasy.” And she begins to kneel down across his chest, her own metal hands pushing his wrists into the sand. “I saw that, you know,” she chuckles, “want me to sit on your face while those hands fuck you until you’re exhausted?”

“Yes please,” his voice bubbles, riding around the sensation dueling inside his body, the fingers wiggling around inside him before they retreat and draw a whimper as his body tries to hold around the pressure. Arali’s sight follows the bob of the gyre’s drooling erection as it draws ever closer. The heft of it thumps against his chin as her skirt brushes on the sands around them, where his knees brush against them as they’re made to quiver from the sensations pushing into his yearning body.

A hand resting upon his restrained wrist, metal fingers curling into his hair, Natalie pushes herself past his lips, feeling him gag with a chirp as she draws back. “Go ahead, Rali. Let the fantasy run wild. I won’t be going anywhere,” and presses her crotch against his mouth as he groans - the hands gaping him once more.