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Anastasia walked alongside Cynthia on her way down to the hangar. Long-shattered pavement crunching lightly her feet while her companion merely glided overtop. Today was just a simple patrol. Their old airbase may be out of the way, but it wasn’t completely irrelevant. Yet.
They popped through the hung open door, looking down from the catwalk at their ancient-looking Vulture Class mech, the Ball and Chain. It stood silently, like a rusty car on the side of the road, underneath the dusted sunlight flashing through the holes in the corrugated roofing. “How long you think she’ll hold up before we need to get the mechanics to take a serious look at her?” Anastasia mentioned offhandedly to her co-pilot.
“I’d give her another 15 easy flight hours. Two patrols if we’re lucky, one if we run into anything.” Cynthia responded, turning to look at the thing. Vulture Class’ were flight capable– but being one of first variants able to do so left them with a myriad of technical and logistical issues. That and the Chain was a solid eight years past when they’d originally planned to mothball her.
“Well, we’d better make this one count. Johann’s a cunt.” Cynthia nudged her– the slime girl’s arm briefly wrapping around her human friend’s. Whether it was in agreement or chiding she couldn’t tell.
“Careful, he could be on the cameras.”
“I’m pretty sure they just have those things up for show– there’s no way the circuits haven’t burnt out by now.”
Cynthia eyed her lasciviously. “I certainly hope they have.” She added, smirking. The shorter girl beside her blushed beet red.
“Oh shush, let’s just get in the mech.”
Anastasia’s books clanked their way across to the control room, flashing her keycard up to the reader. She entered into the glass box, eyes skimming across the arrays of buttons and switches and hitting the hangar door control before heading out and locking the door. Rattling the old thing a few times just to be safe.
She looked back towards the Chain at the sound of its hatch opening, watching as Cynthia flowed her ooze-like form into the interior of the giant mech. She was always glad Cynthia was on their side, watching the way she moved silently and could contort her frame like an octopus. And for other reasons too, she thought as she made her way over the the cockpit.
“Anastasia! Come on in and take a seat!” Cynthia said, patting her thigh with one hand, letting out an audible squish as she did so. Anastasia sighed, feigning annoyance that was ruined by her smile.
“You know you don’t have to do that every time we go for a ride, right?” Cynthia looked up with faux-innocence, like she knew something.
“Okay fine yes I like it– let's just get going already.” Anastasia said, fully aware that she was the thing holding them up.
The human clambered into the cockpit, leaning over the pilot seat that Cynthia was seated in to give the hatch room to close. As she leaned in close, The slime reached up to give her a quick cold peck on the lips. She then surged forward to envelop her completely, sealing around her back and dragging Anastasia into the pilot’s seat inside of Cynthia.
It always took a moment to get used to, being subsumed by her co-pilot like this. Suddenly all the instrument lights were a shade greener, and she could feel the cool slime slowly pulsing across her skin. The goo slowly undulated back and forth, exerting light pressure like a massage across her flesh. Anastasia groaned in relief, feeling lightened under the pressure.
She breathed in for the first time, feeling as her partner coursed down into her lungs. The slight bit of pressure compared to air always felt weird after breathing normally only moments ago. As oxygen began to transfer in through the gel, the burning in Anastasia’s chest began to be replaced by heat elsewhere. She would have been embarrassed, but they don’t pick pilots who aren’t comfortable being intimate with each other for a reason. Cynthia had been inside her plenty of times before– and not just while piloting.
Cynthia’s slime reached easily under her loose tank top and shorts, beginning to caress the human pilot as Anastasia relaxed. They couldn’t communicate yet, The slime usually used for Cynthia’s vocalizations currently being halfway down Anastasia’s throat, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t express their enjoyment of each other. The heat was only further emboldened as she felt the slime begin to seep into her completely.
Her partner’s being permeated her completely: seeping into her ears, her nostrils, and lower. Even down to her very pores, The distance was closed until it wasn’t even relevant anymore; there was no more space between them; they were merged.
And then came the real fun. Cynthia’s slime dripped further into her ears, through the tiny holes drilled specifically to give her access, and out onto the very surface of Anastasia’s brain. The soft coldness of Cynthia’s form had been abated somewhat by her co-pilot’s body heat, but still Anastasia could feel the prickling chill as the slime caressed her from inside and out.
The goop ran softly over her grey matter, coating it in a soft blanket of control and safety. Anastasia’s thoughts began to lull, her brain mellowing out and the goo slipped down through the wrinkles in her brain, coating each fold in Cynthia’s loving embrace.
Anastasia felt the last bits of vestigial animal fear in her hindbrain activate as Cynthia grew close, like a predator prowling out of the mist. Only for all her thoughts to freeze in panic when the slime girl pounced and they were simply flipped off by the all-encompassing control her co-pilot held. She was pulled out of her brief, instinctual panic by the same hindbrain that had driven her into it, now firmly under Cynthia’s sway.
Now came the part Anastasia looked forwards to the most: her language center. Once that was subsumed, all she needed to do was say the word and her identity and the last bits of her free will would be smothered under Cynthia’s gel.
Nearly all of her brain had been taken by now: Her senses no longer returned any data that Cynthia didn’t allow, and her motor functions had ceased to work entirely, hanging limply like a meat doll inside the slime that had encased her so thoroughly. Even her pulse beat in time to the flow of Cynthia’s body around and through her.
Then she felt it. What remained of her thoughts jolted as she felt something connect into her headspace. ‘Hey love, doing alright?’ The ghostly voice of Cynthia asked from inside her mind.
Anastasia was unbelievably worked up by now. ‘Please Cynthia– you know what I want.’ She felt enjoyment and condescension pass through the connection.
‘You’re right, I do. But I think it’s so much better if I make you say it yourself, don’t you think?’ She whispered into her mind lovingly.
Anastasia resisted as long as she could. There was appeal in having it happen, even begging for it. But in words? No implications, just asking for what her slime knew she craved above all else, letting herself be lost for a time with no anchor: her ship sailed by another? ‘Fuck’ she thought, even the thought of it was too hot for her to bear.
She broke and gave in– as she always did.
‘End me, Cynthia.’