Aftercare is a vital part of any act of emotionally heightened intimacy. Valeria was pretty sure that, except for that one time with Callula, waterboarding did not count as aftercare. It didn’t even help with their hangover or scratch that dry itch in the back of her throat. She almost wished they were just trying to drown her instead since then at least she could drink the water. Perhaps the literal torture would be more effective if the dissociation hadn’t been persisting from the moment she first saw a man-shaped machine plummet from the sky and turn into a fireball on the ground.

Between laps of simulated suffocation Val actually paused to think about that. Machines had fallen all over the city she had been living in. She hadn’t been living there *long* mind you, but even a brief stay in a developed location meant meeting people. Making connections.

That city was gone now. Her coworkers, brief as she knew them, were probably all dead. Her desk had been on the 12th floor, there wasn’t enough time between the first burst of fire and the building’s collapse to get everyone out of there. Willow, the lady who worked across from her, wasn’t going to show up to brag about her dog anymore.

*Oh god what happened to her dog*!?

For some reason thinking about a literal canine is what made Valeria actually feel an emotion again. What happened to the dog? Was it at home? Was Buster okay? He could maybe tear open a food bag if he got desperate but would he be able to get out or was Willow’s apartment one of the many randomized winners of the “get caught in the spray of a weapon whose barrel is the width of a person”  lottery.

Their chest tightened rapidly, previously from the aforementioned suffocation, now from the rapidly approaching ball of Trauma that was actually starting to sink into their squishy brain. There were a dozen and a half other small things they’d never have again. A sandwich from that corner store that was, while not *great* was admittedly pretty good for the price and honestly it was bad in a way that satisfied an urge good food could not. She wouldn’t be able to get that morning coffee near the office, where the barista always winked and passed her an extra scone when she was there- was she flirting? Had Valeria been an oblivious fucking lesbian about that? Well that was a shame because they were pretty sure they saw that whole coffee shop get run over.

They really hoped she wasn’t working that day. They also hoped she had a long commute.

*Oh gods above and below what happened to the dog!?*

The next time her torturers yanked the wet rag off of her face she lurched up, dry heaved into the air, and shouted, “Is Buster okay!?”

The faceless goon that had been interrogating her seemed both confused and struck by the line. “...what?”

The two men behind her both looked at eachother with uncertainty, shrugged, and gagged her with the wet towel before pouring water all over her face all over again. This time Val kicked and screamed. There wasn’t actually any information they could give the weirdos, which made the whole exercise feel extra difficult. Tell me what you know, I don’t know anything, I don’t believe you, I’m being honest! So on and so forth with a lot of crying, a brief stint of vomiting, and at least one incident of a doctor coming in to make sure they didn’t *actually* die in the middle of it all. At least there was medical care. Oh that humor was probably the dissociation taking over again. Hello old friend, let’s not think about Buster- *oh gods above and below is Buster okay!?*

The next time Val lurched up she started to shout to find that she was still gagged, and the stranger she’d been expecting had been replaced with a group of stuffed business suits with folders all staring at her in visible confusion. “...really? This is what you’ve been doing with her?”

The two men behind her shrugged. Really? That was the best they could say to why they’ve been literally torturing her all this time!? She shouted into the cloth gag. The man sighed and gestured for someone to bring a table between them before taking a seat himself. 

“I’m sorry about the treatment. You’re…” He looked down at his paperwork. “Valeria Colt, correct?”

Val tried to answer, but, well, the gag in her mouth and the accumulated slime in her throat from all the waterboarding wasn’t interested in helping with that.

“Please understand, we were running a background check on you after the incident to make sure you wouldn’t be a security risk.” Intense background check, then. “The results were not much.” Oh that’s good. “As in, suspiciously not much.” Val furrowed her brows. Why the fuck would- “But, unfortunately, Claw seems to be intent on forcing our hands in this matter regardless of how much does or doesn’t come up about you.” He deposited a folder of paperwork onto the table, opened it, and turned it around towards her before placing a pen atop it. “Valeria, we can’t simply let you walk away from here after what you’ve seen already, and at the moment Hound is in need of a new copilot, which, Claw seems to have decided quite insistently- we have the bodies to prove this- that it should be you. As such, we are willing to offer you a job in that position starting today.”

…what? Val tried to ask the thought out loud but it just came out as a wet muffled noise.

“....Hells’ sake someone ungag her.”

Oh thank goodness she could talk again. “What!?” She snapped.

“Hound, the pilot you interacted with yesterday. You’ll be her co-pilot, as well as the one responsible for taking care of her and ensuring she doesn’t lash out, sort of like, well, basically like her handler too.”

“...what????”

“The pay is listed here, as well as the benefits. You’ll start tomorrow and we can give you training to get you up to par.

“...You want to *hire* me!?”

“No. But Claw mutilated the last man who tried to get you removed from the premises, so we don’t have a choice. It’s either this or we keep you in a cell high up enough for Claw to reach you for the next 20 years, your call.”

Val stared at the document, then up at the man, then back down to the documents again. “...what?”

One of the goons behind her sighed and grabbed the back of her hair, while the other grabbed the wet towel again.

“Wait,waitWAITWAIT!!” Val shouted. “OKAY I’LL SIGN I’LL SIGN IT I’LL SIGN-”

---

Sifting through the massive pile of paperwork almost felt worth it for the touch of sunlight Val got after. It’d mostly been nonsense to her, though they’d gotten a copy for “personal perusal” whenever they had the time for it- oh who was she kidding. As soon as sun touched skin she bolted. The men in suits had turned left, she immediately turned right and ran. Maximum speed, out across the courtyard and beyond the gleaming buildings.

To Val’s shock, nobody actually bothered to chase her.

Eventually she made it past the hangars, and only then did she start to see what could be considered an outside for this military base - no, no, the paperwork specified this was a corporate structure- *why would they care about misgendering a corporate installation!?*- and, to their dismay, see into the hangar to witness that mecha from before, gaping wound in her chest now a mass of naked purple-hued muscle fibers pulsing where metal should have been, curled up and napping like a dog. It poked… her? Did that guy say the robot was she/her? Misgendering a mecha felt more wrong than a building, to Valeria. She poked her ears up from the bundle as Val ran past, then perked her head up and locked eyes with the tiny human.

To Val’s continued horror, Claw started wagging her tail too.

She knew what came next.

Her mad dash became a desperate sprint for survival. Adrenaline woke up for an extra squeeze of juice as she heard the machine bolt into life behind her. Claw leapt out of the hangar and started running on all fours directly to her location, each footfall thundering into the ground as she grew closer and closer. Then suddenly their world once again turned into teeth and tongue as they were scooped bodily off the ground kicking and screaming, pressed tight against the roof of the machine’s mouth, and carried back to where the business suits were still waiting from the moment they first bolted.

Valeria did not like being deposited covered in dog slobber. Nor did she like the smug look on one of the guard’s faces.

They tried to turn and run again but were caught instantly by Claw’s big wet nose poking her back into place. Then tried a second time to be sure.

“Shall we carry on?” The lead man said.

“...yeah, yeah, fine.” Valeria sighed.

---

Valeria was given the tour by a cadre of burly guards, one corporate suit that later introduced himself as Caiman who absolutely refused to put on a nice customer service voice, and one very large unusually organic-seeming mecha that followed her around like an excited puppy. Sticking her nose through doorways or following close just outside a window. At least they had the good graces to give her a new outfit to replace the blood-, dust-, ash-, and other fluids best left unmentioned-stained clothes she had been stuck in since her capture. It was a branded set of overalls, but it was better than feeling dried *things* crack when she moved her legs.

Last came the most important step, meeting the pilot these corporate suits wanted them to be responsible for for some fucking reason. Of course her room was built at about Claw’s head height, in one of the buildings with all the metal and glass enabling a view wide enough for the mecha to poke her head through. Valeria would have preferred to discover this by reasoning it out based on comparative sizes. Instead she discovered it by Claw grabbing her by the scruff of her neck, lifting her bodily into the air kicking and screaming, and reaching through the window to drop her inside.

Oh gods above and below the smell. That was the first thing she noticed once she crossed the threshold. It was like sweat, but mixed with something that made her throat convulse and run right back out the window she came in, with an aftertaste that lingered on her tongue and coated the inside of her nose in it. She gasped, gagged, and then covered her mouth in a vain attempt to keep it out, but it was already too late. She could *feel* it coating her as she stayed here.

“Hola, lola.” Ah, there she is. The woman whose cum was currently being absorbed by their large intestine. Not that Val had much of a high horse to stand on, considering they were pretty sure their own cum was still inside the other’s cunt. The strange woman had been in the middle of a deadlift routine, and dropped the bar with a loud thunk before bounding over, towering over Val… and… covered in sweat and… uh, teeth… pointy…

Val gulped. She felt a bit lightheaded.

“Back for more? You weren’t half bad, I won’t say no if you ask-”

“She’s to be your new handler and co-pilot.” Caiman walked in through the front door. 

Instantly all the giddy energy Hound had built up in her body dropped, shoulders literally sagging and mouth tilting down into a lazy frown. “Oh,” Hound said flatly before walking back to her weights without a second glance. “Yay.” She did not sound enthused.

“Uh… hi?” Valeria managed to squeak out. Did they do something wrong? A bit of guilt gnawed at the edge of their brain- wait a second it’s *HER* fault they’re in this mess anyway!? Anger broiled up over the guilt at seeing her deflate like that. “Look, I don’t want to be here either.”

“Then leave,” Hound didn’t even bother looking back as she said that, already grabbing her bar and getting back into position like nothing had happened. “I’ve no doubt these assholes can have you replaced by the end of the day.”

“About that,” Caiman cut in. “She was chosen by Claw, specifically.”

Hound clenched her fists so tight that the metal bar in them warped and snapped sharply. “wHAT!?” She snarled. “Claw!? She whipped her head over to the window. The mecha was resting her snout through it and onto the floor, tail wagging happily behind her. “Really? *Her*? Look at her, she’s pathetic!”

It took Val’s brain a moment to remember that they were the topic of discussion. “...hey!”

“Shut up.” Hound snapped.

“The paperwork has already been signed, she’ll be getting training starting tomorrow-”

“It’s *your fault* I’m stuck here!” Val interrupted.

Caiman continued without actually listening, “And we expect you two to be combat capable again by the end of the month-”

“This is a new low, even for me. Look at you, you’re shaking in your boots just looking at me. It’d be cute if you were a quick lay, but that’s about all you’re good for. Well, that and your tits, lola.”

“I have a name! And it’s not ‘boobs’!!”

“I don’t care.” Hound leaned down, wrenched one of the weight plates off of the remains of the bar, and sauntered over to Val.

“And my eyes are up here.” Val gestured to her face.

Hound kept staring at her chest. “Yeah, I don’t care about that either. Here, hold this.” She dropped the plate into Val’s arms, and the weight hit them hard enough that it slammed them down onto their back, pressure falling directly onto their ribs and choking them out through their chest. Val gasped harshly as they hit the floor and clutched the metal with their hands. They couldn’t manage the strength to move it off of them. “The fuck do you see in her, Claw?” Hound just turned to the robot.

Claw did not respond in any fashion that Val understood.

“-and you’ll be having simulation practice together three times a week until our standards are met. They’ll be sleeping in the room across from yours.” Caiman finished his ramble, snapped his folder shut, and then looked down at Val squirming on the floor. “Please try not to kill each other *too* quickly.” He, and the suits, left without helping.

Val wheezed out something that was meant to be a curse.

Hound came back and landed atop their waist, straddling them as she leaned over. “Look, lola, I don’t know who you are, I don’t give a fuck, and I don’t see a point in changing either of those. You’re going to end up dead or washed out in two weeks, and the only reason you’re even getting this far is because Claw thinks you’re cute. Get it?”

Bereft of the ability to breathe and rapidly feeling like their brain was turning into fuzz, Val chose to do one of the few things they still could and tried to spit on Hound.  It didn’t even get past their lips before failing and slipping down their own cheek instead.

Hound laughed a guttural, cruel tone before whipping forward and spitting right between their fucking eyes. “That’s how you do it, idiot.” She grabbed the weight and stood up, tossed it over her shoulder with ease, and pushed Val aside with her foot. “Now get the fuck out of here, I’m tired of seeing you.”

“Fhh-” Val wheezed for air. “Fhh-fuh-fffhh-ffffuck, you.”

“Save it for the cockpit.”

Valeria knew with absolute certainty that there was nobody she hated in this world more than Camilla Fuertes. Her pilot, her dog, her Hound. As her hands tightened around the psychotic woman’s throat she reveled in the feeling of the other’s arteries squishing beneath her thumbs and the feeling of tension in the muscles under her fingers. The mangy cur was sweating. Laughing, too, despite the rapidly depleting supply of oxygen. Her hands were wrapped back around Val’s throat and squeezing the everloving fuck out of her right back. A thick line of red bled out of Hound’s nose and spilled onto Val’s cheeks, where it intermingled with the spit, tears, and more blood (some of it was even hers) that marred their faces.

‘I really could just squeeze tighter,’ Valeria thought to herself with what little brain power she had left. Maybe that would shut the laughing bitch up. Camilla beat her to the scrunch, and Val ended up gasping with her tongue past her teeth because of it. Fuck this, fuck her, everything was HER fucking fault anyway; Val should just squeeze and twist. She couldn’t think of a reason not to.

Well, no. There was one reason. If they both died now they would probably go to hell together. And Valeria refused to spend the rest of her afterlife stuck to this wreck too. She let go.

---

Valeria saw the moment war came to Los Arvenos. In the middle of a clear day there was a thunderous clap from above, followed by a rush of metal descending from the sky. In seconds munitions rained down upon the city, counteracting forces that rose from the ground. Within the hour the area was left under a curtain of black clouds so dense that it became like night. Distant fires raged through the city, creating a curtain of burning light beating back the dark.

She had had the good fortune of being outside when it began. The skyscraper she worked in a mere block away was not so lucky. A goliath of a machine, body smoking and falling without control, crashed into the top of it and fell through half the stories before erupting. The structure turned into a pillar of flame and emitted a cloud of dust and glass down the busy street. She saw a flash as the people milling about the front courtyard went from unaware to being cast in a light so harsh it made them appear like ambulant shadows, then dissipate into ashes when the fire struck. Multiple munitions struck the tower at the same time as the eruption, confirming the kill in excess. She saw, for a brief moment, a visible ripple in the air rush towards her.  She felt it hit her chest and her feet leave the ground.

When she became aware she was on the ground. In pain, bleeding, and coughing up smoke as she stirred through a layer of dust and ash that had piled up upon her. The light of day had well and fully vanished now, and starlight fared no better at piercing the veil above. Looking up she saw countless lights dancing through the air, circling each other as tracers filled the space between them, some erupting and others falling rapidly to become another burst of light on impact with the ground. Along the skyline she saw other shapes, shadows of goliaths who uprooted wires and destroyed roads by walking, that struck each other fiercely.

Valeria had no desire to die like this. The shock taking over her mind in that moment made it easier to look past the paralyzing horror of now and latch onto anything else. It chose to latch onto the bleeding wound on her side. She needed to get out of here. She needed to get that wound treated. She needed to not be- she looked up at the sound of a high whine- directly underneath another mecha making an uncontrolled descent. She felt almost detached from herself as her limbs surged with fresh energy, shaking off the aches and bruises to push herself out of the rubble and bolt down the street, past the spent bullet casings half her height and stepping over the corpses of others less fortunate than her, only picking up speed as another harsher whine came from above.

The thing coming down atop her was an oddly organically shaped machine. Its smooth exterior flowed like skin as it tumbled through the air, and the spear shoved through its chest trailed a ribbon of cerulean liquids as it went. For a moment she was sure it would land upon its head and explode. But right as it met the skyline of the city it twirled like a ballerina and jet engines built into it’s skirt flared to life, turning the fall into a nearly-controlled collapse. It struck the side of a building, fell through it, and bounced off the floor before coming to a skidding halt across the street.

Ahead of her a trio of ground-walkers skated around the corner. Val screamed at the sight, skidded to a halt, and leapt to the side to avoid being run over. They rushed right over where she had been standing. Behind her, the thing had already risen to its feet. Gauntleted hands pulled at the spear in its chest. The first walker closed the distance as its plasma weapons burned to life. The fallen one howled, yanked, and ripped the spear out itself before throwing it hilt-first into the closest walker. The weapon landed with a sickening crunch, crumpling the walker in on itself.

A fountain of blue erupted from the fallen thing’s wound. It leapt forward immediately, grabbing the spear again and using it like a vaulting pole to leverage itself over the remaining two walkers, negating their charge before using it’s skirt again to twirl and drop, impaling one through the side and then using it like a hammer on the third to turn both into scrap metal.

As soon as it landed upon its knees the machine broke into a coughing fit, and blue leaked from its snout (why in the heavens does a robot have a canid snout and why does it have so many TEETH). It suddenly leaned forward to retch up a gout of vivid red blood and hack up a body that landed with a loud, wet slap.

Something about seeing a body, pilot suit in ruins, missing half of it’s chest, and with an arm dangling by a thin string of skin, pop like a balloon upon impact with the ground reminded Val’s body that she was in danger. To her dismay, the first thing her body did with that knowledge was scream.

The monster whipped its head around to look at her. Its eyes dilated rapidly, then shuttered into laser-fine points in her direction. It crawled back into movement, on all four limbs at first but pushing up onto its heels as it went towards her. That finally got Val to switch from shocked stillness to movement, and she ran. Every several steps she made was answered by a thundering bound from a machine that cleared the distance several times faster than her. Each step was louder than the last. The ground shook as it drew close. She ducked and tried to dart into a building, but the building collapsed around her as a gauntleted hand smashed into it and peeled it apart from above. She broke through the back door, into an alleyway, and found the mecha already breaking through the walls directly above her, perched such that the blood coating its lower jaw was dripping behind, beside, then ahead of her. 

Just as she reached the street and almost felt a chance for freedom she was surrounded by a gust of hot air, then metallic teeth on all sides. Suddenly the vista of the city was replaced with the inside of a machine’s mouth, tongue grabbing her and pulling her in while teeth snapped shut.

Valeria desperately did not want to die a statistic. Getting vored by a giant robot was not much better. They screamed, wailed, and were silenced as the pressure crushed in around her and choked her by squeezing her ribs in. Warm liquids surrounded her and stung at her skin, and she felt the way it burned through her clothes and possessions as it went, certain that it was going to melt her whole in the things stomach.

Suddenly the pressure stopped entirely. She landed, naked, on her ass in a chair made of wires, metals, switches and flips and, thank every god above and below, cushions to catch their ass on the way down. Val barely had a moment to appreciate the new surroundings, screens, controls, a view of the destruction all around them clear as day and a hole right through it all where… the spear had pierced… she realized she was sitting in blood. That there was a hole through the back of the seat she was in, and the screens on that side were shattered. Someone had been killed here.

Specifically, that person-shaped waterballoon from before had died here.

The moment was up as a thick metal collar jutted out from the back of the seat she was in and snapped around their neck, forcing their head back sharply before an array of machinery slid in around its circumference. They felt a brush of metal against their skin, and then heard the harsh hiss of autoinjectors dumping an electric sensation into the muscles of their neck.

Everything dissipated quickly after that. They were able to grasp a few more moments as the drugs took hold. They saw a tail ahead of them, a woman in piloting gear turn back towards them and say something like “Really? *Her*?” before her voice dissipated into incomprehensible sound. Val was distinctly aware that the woman’s suit was torn across the chest and crotch, and metal plates on the pilotsuits hips had handles facing back. They became acutely aware of a smell. Blood, of course. Fire, for outside, and something more pungent immediately-

“You’re lucky all I need from you tonight is your dick, lola.”

Another hiss and the sensations doubled over. Suddenly Valeria felt like their skin was on fire. Liquid need consumed every inch of their veins from within out, and conscious thought rapidly dwindled out within their skull. The smell. It was covering the inside of her nose, coating her tongue, it was so close- oh.

The pilot’s position was a cross between straddling a racing motorcycle and positioning herself face-down ass-up towards them. Their body happily replied by sending blood to the right places and leaving her brain to starve for oxygen in the process, which, frankly, their flesh couldn’t think of a good reason the brain needed to be involved in what came next. Or think in general. The head between her legs was, at this point, louder than every other part of Val’s body, and by it’s command their hands grabbed the handles on the sides of the pilot’s hips and *pulled*.

Across their vision the colors had completely detached themselves from any actual meaning and turned into a kaleidoscope of nonsense. Bodily sensations were chaotic, heightened beyond reasonable levels but so disorientingly strewn together that none of it made sense anymore, and the soundscape had become an array of barking howls and torn metal. She felt warmth on a part of her body, hot enough to burn, and it reverberated through her nerves to continue stirring that hunger, which was… which was…

It took a lot of effort for Valeria to realize she was fucking someone. More so to understand, for about a second, that the vision ahead of her was an array of weapons systems and combat information overlaying a first-person view of that mechanical monster claws-deep in the cockpit of a much larger machine, howling with joy as it ripped out parts one after another like a wild animal disemboweling it’s pray. Then it all broke apart again, became nonsense that had them drooling and bucking place until something inside them peaked and surged over their brain.

Valeria came. And then blacked out to the soothing music of carnal slaughter and canine howls.

---

Valeria came to as the cockpit opened up, the collar released, and they fell face-first out onto the floor of a hanger. A bevy of engineers all ran past their body and towards the mecha, ignoring her completely as she blinked back to reality. Through the hangover of whatever the fuck had been done to her she slowly pieced together the sharp reality that one) they were alive and two) they had to run. Moving again was awkward. Their muscles were exhausted and barely responsive and as they stumbled up to their feet all possible coordination revealed itself to be completely and utterly lost.

She made it about three steps before the pilot detached herself from her seat, did a perfect cartwheel out of the cockpit and onto the floor, and howled like a wolf in excitement. An off-white trail ran down from her cunt along her thighs, and she paid it no mind. “Now THAT’s the good stuff!” She shouted, punched herself in the chest a few times, and then exclaimed, “Now where’s the new girl!?”

Val really should not have turned and looked back. It didn't work out the last time. Why did she think to do it this time? She did it anyway. She saw the pilot doff her helmet, revealing a cascade of hair and a pair of wolf ears perched atop her head, and, more threateningly, wild eyes and a wicked grin that was all teeth staring in her direction.

“Come here!” The stranger shouted. Val squeaked and tried to run. This just elicited another bark before she heard the pilot chase after her, tackling her like an animal and grabbing her around the throat to stop her. The engineers that had been ignoring the two beforehand acted to that, kicking a bed out on wheels to catch her on the way down. Val briefly wondered how the fuck this could be a common enough occurance for them to be prepared for it. But then the pilot’s hands were on them, and her face was right up against theirs. “Caught you!” She giggled, licked her lips, and bit Val on the cheek. “Now you’re mine! MIne, mine, mine-”

“W-wait-”

Val felt a sting on their thigh from another autoinjector, and the dwindling high of the last one came back in full force. Instantly her body ran with fresh need, and the traitorous flesh cared little for how her mind felt about being kidnapped and a lot more about the fact that the hot sweaty wolf woman who reeked of sex was currently straddling her lap and injecting herself in the neck with the same drugs while wearing a face that seemed damn near orgasmic doing it.

In about five seconds the rest of the hangar melted away anyway. Then the conscious knowledge that there was anything but the right here and right now with the pilot who was making a slew of feral noises and stripping herself bare, injecting herself in the lower tummy with fast acting mutagenic agent that made her crotch flare white hot before flesh reknit itself rapidly into a canid prick to use. “My turn, lola.” She sneered.

Val looked down. Her lower stomach felt red hot all of a sudden. They were still afraid, but the why had already drowned out of their conscious brain with the where and the when and the how, and as their addled mind spun around in a circle all they managed to do was lay still. The pilot was already moving their body, lifting their legs, applying a lubricant that felt ice cold against their burning skin, *touching* them gods they needed more touch, it felt divine all of a sudden why had they been using the handles before instead of gripping her hips directly- oh GODS they’d been fucking her. The realization hit through the fog like a brick, they’d been hilt deep in her cunt mindlessly pounding into her while that pilot had been barking and controlling the mecha, using its fangs to tear enemy machines’ head off with her mouth and now she was petting their face and it felt so *fucking* divine.

Everywhere their skin touched was pure fire, from their conjoined hips to their breasts smashed into each other, to the teeth biting into the side of her neck hard enough that burning hot blood was spilling out and into the woman’s mouth. Her hands were gripped tight around them, possessively so, and it made something in Val’s brain whimper pathetically as it bled oxytocin into every nerve ending, paradoxically comforting her through the chaotic splay of nonsense information pouring over her mind. They felt heat pool inside of them, a thrusting between the legs- fucking. They were being fucked. They’d forgotten that, with everything else going on. 

Something inside of them managed to speak up that Val should probably be concerned about that.

Her body instead chose to shout as it came and splattered her own seed across her tummy. Her partner bucked into her harshly, howled in joy, and managed to pop her knot in with a push that made Val tense and buck with another surprise orgasm and had the pilot clutch their skin so sharply it drew blood. Then Val blinked, and the pilot’s teeth were around their throat, arms wrapped around them and shaking as she came into them a second time, knot grinding against their prostate such that it made their body move on autopilot with pathetic mewls. They blinked again, and they were being spooned as the pilot clutched their body tightly, feral noises slipping between her lips and satisfying herself for the third? Fifth? Val had no idea time. Exhaustion had beaten out the chemical high at that point for them though, and the next time they blinked their eyes slammed shut and their head hit the bed asleep.