Lightning Stries Twice

Lightning Strikes Twice

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Author's Note: this is a sequel to Lightning Strike. As such, it's based off the works and setting of the Artist Ratbat and her Dire Machines. So again, this is going to be a weird one for most people.

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Marcus heard her arrival long before he saw her. The roar of that old F-135 engine was unmistakable, and it was enough to get the rest of the Dires at the airfield running around in excitement.

For him, it was business as usual, using the opportunity to do what he needed to in the hangars without interruption from chatty planes and aircraft tender vehicles.

Of course, he felt a tingle inside him whenever she visited these days... especially in the last few weeks.

He heard the quick squealing of tires hitting tarmac at speed, and then the declining whine of an engine idling down. After that, the distant, muted din of excited chattering as the Airfield Dires relayed and received the latest gossip.

Jezebel did so enjoy her visits. She was like a star to the little light planes, this great, powerful, elegant stealth fighter from a previous generation, though not even he would dare to call her 'old' herself.

Obsolescent though her design may be now, she was still a damned impressive and imposing sight.

However, it wasn't the beast of an engine in her heart or the sleek radar deflecting and absorbing lines of her fuselage or the avionics that were still pretty damn impressive despite being decades old, that made Marcus feel a little shiver.

It was what happened behind closed doors whenever she visited that got his anticipation up.

He sighed, and removed his gloves and ambled over to a sink to wash his hands, cleaning off the few grease stains that he managed to get... his hands remained grey.

It wasn't from grease though. There was no washing off what was happening to his body.

It was a little disconcerting at first, and he still occasionally found himself looking at his palms with long gazes, wiggling his fingers.

In time, his forearms were going to turn that same shade of grey. Along with his lower legs. His feet were already grey. He would also develop silvery, smooth metallic scales on his soles and palms, though they wouldn't compromise his grip.

He'd also no longer be legally human. He already wasn't.

At first, that scared him. But Jezebel, and other Post-Humans, as some liked to call themselves, assured him he'd still

feel

human, for the most part. There'd be changes, some new traits he'd have to get used to. But he'd still enjoy the same legal rights as a human would, he just couldn't be legally called a human anymore.

The growth spurts hadn't set in yet, and he was worried that'd make some of his jobs harder. But time would tell, because there was no reversing course once the grey set in.

Fortunately, the process of getting himself turned into a part-machine guy was quite enjoyable to say the least.

He put the gloves away and hung up some of his tools, when he heard the doors to the hangar grind open. Sunlight shone in, but a conspicuous shadow was cast on the wall.

"Hey, Marcus~" greeted Jezebel with that characteristic tone, dangerous, slightly drawn out, and confident.

She trundled in, just able to fit and turn around. Fortunately F-35s weren't as big as some jets of their era were. And fortunately it was a big hangar.

He turned to face her with a smirk of his own, though it seemed so insignificant compared to that perilous shark grin she sported.

Military Aircraft always did result in assertive, somewhat primal Dires, and the long maws and sharp teeth went a long way to ratcheting that feeling up.

Along with those sharp, angular eyes merged with the cockpit glass, just behind the outer layer of the canopy.

Her mouth tugged into a broader grin, and the semi-electronic, partly biomechanical eyes narrowed deviously.

Since they became an item, he'd become more intimate with her, and gotten plenty of close-up looks. It was still astonishing to see how much the metallic skin of Dires flexed and rippled around certain parts of their bodies, giving them degrees of motion that would normally be considered atypical and potentially dangerous for an untouched vehicle.

But the nanomachines that gave Dires life were something else.

Of course, they weren't so flexible as to be able to move around on their wings like legs or hug someone with them.

Instead, they had their mechadendrites... several of which immediately started emerging from numerous ports and hidden hatches along Jezebel's fuselage, snaking out to entwine around Marcus, one of them sporting a small mechanical hand with which she held his hand with, another cupping his cheek.

For as freaky and predatory as she was, she was quite the sweetheart inside.

"Hey, Jezebel~" he answered cheerily.

She giggled, and pushed forward to nuzzle her nose to his face. He rubbed back, though he still sometimes felt a little nervous; that AESA radar within was still intact, and if active, could've fried his brain.

She was, fortunately, not likely to leave it on accidentally. Especially not around humans.

Least of all her mate.

They enjoyed each other's embrace for a little while, before Marcus was freed from the coils of her dendrites, letting one of them slide out through one of his hands, feeling the cool flexible metal gliding along his tinged skin.

He walked alongside her, feeling those eyes on him at all times, especially as a camera stalk popped out of a hatch and started following him; there was nowhere one could hide around a Dire.

"So, anything in particular you wanted me to check today?" he asked.

There wasn't really much for him to do; he did a few small tweaks and touches here and there of largely superficial things. Anything deeper was more like surgery, and she had to go to the right people for that. Plus, the 'fleshy' bits were beyond him.

Still, she seemed to enjoy his mechanic touch here and there.

He ran a hand over her fuselage, hardly concerned about the RAM, thanks to her nanomachines and his changing body. Then, he brushed against one of her Radar Reflectors, and realised it was loose.

He touched it a little, and then looked at her.

"Have you been letting these rattle loose again?" he asked.

She looked away and pouted.

"It's not like they're part of me. When I was 'born', did my gun grow back in a few years? Yes, and they couldn't take that away from me." Marcus heard a very loud, distinctive buzzing whirring, a few seconds long, as she made a point. Though, not even she would be bold enough to spin up her unarmed GAU-12 around other people, especially strangers. "Did my Radar Reflectors grow back? No, absolutely not."

She huffed in derision, but he rolled his eyes, and wandered over to find an appropriate tool to fasten it.

"You know you're not supposed to fly without them," he chastised her, prompting Jezebel to twist her head and make mocking mouth motions. "You'll get in trouble for being difficult to see on the local civilian radars. That stealth of yours still works."

"I have my transponder, don't I? Besides, stealth is what I am. I might like an audience, but I am a silent hunter of the sky. My prey do not see my coming until it's too late."

'Certainly hear you, though,'

he thought as he tightened up the reflector. It was also a little rich since she wasn't active military. She didn't hunt anyone.

"You know they'll penalise you. Then what will I do?"

"You'll come and see me for a change~" she retorted, sticking out her tongue.

"Yeah, and maybe you'll get to meet that F-22 that's been flying around recently and getting into trouble."

Jezebel suddenly shuddered.

"Are you kidding me? That bastard is crazy. Something about him ain't right. I swear, the one time I was close to them refuelling at the airbase, I heard him muttering about 'wanting to fucking eat' or something. I don't know, but I don't wanna be near him any more than I have to."

It wasn't often that Jezebel got antsy or lost her composure like that, so he was inclined to believe her.

"Well, you're not crazy like him, so I expect you to do the smart thing and not let these fall off just because you want to be stealthy in civilian airspace. They'd come asking me questions and it'd just be paperwork and bullshit," he said with finality, tightening up the reflector.

"Oh, fine. Anything for you~"

He felt a clawed hand sneak around and give his rump a firm grope through his pants, making him jump.

"For someone who loves being the centre of attention, you sure like being sneaky."

"Like I said, I'm a stealth fighter~"

"A stealth lover too, apparently," he quipped.

He was suddenly wrapped up in more dendrites, and dragged back to her front, her dangerous, devious gaze fixed on him.

"I seem to recall you asking me to put you inside my internal bays last visit~ I think you

enjoy

my stealthy touch~"

A red blush filled his face, and he looked away.

"Well... I guess it reminds me of our first time," he admitted.

"Aw, how sweet~"

She curled her thick, slimy tongue up his face, and he shivered. That strange, tangy taste was a little tingly. Not unlike a battery, though less bitter and sour.

"Well, you did kinda... assert yourself," he answered.

"Maybe... but you needed a little nudge~" She giggled, and licked him again, but this time, she pressed the tip of her tongue to his lips, seeking entrance.

He allowed her, and parted his lips to let her massive, synthetic muscle slide inside, gliding over his much smaller tongue.

Like many parts of their more organic anatomy, Dires could alter their tongues slightly, allowing them to squeeze inside tight spaces like a human's mouth... or other orifices, without causing them harm.

His hands moved to grip the slippery muscle, and then up to the sides of her fuselage, just above her shark-like jaws. He suckled on her tongue, waggling his against it and murmuring into the 'kiss'. So did she.

But naturally, her dominance got involved, and her tongue started to push into his throat.

He was expecting this, and relaxed his gullet to let that tongue tip squeeze inside, slithering and slipping about, and practically feeding him a thick dose of nanomachine-laden saliva, which he carefully gulped down.

It was oddly hot to him.

After a while of this, she withdrew her tongue from his mouth, and he only gasped. He'd stopped coughing after several of her visits, having gotten used to a lot of things going into his mouth... he'd learned quite a lot about himself from her. She had a way of tempting him to try things, opening his eyes to new ideas, and easing him into it. She was predatory... but gentle when she wanted to be.

He huffed, and felt his work pants straining from a bulge at his waist, and Jezebel gave him a look of mock sympathy.

"Awww, is someone getting a little worked up~?" She chuckled softly, and brushed a regular dendrite across the tent, before cupping the bulge in one of her mechanical hands, making him grunt.

"How can I not when you're crawling all over me, Jez? Can't escape it," he teased with a wry sideways glance.

She returned the look far more perilously, baring her teeth in another sharkish grin, licking her 'lips'.

"Oh, I'm glad to hear it, Marcus~"

The next thing he knew, several of her dendrites were crawling up his shirt, and slithering all over his bare skin, touching and teasing him mercilessly. He shuddered, and gasped when they found his nipples, two of the dexterous tendrils swirling their warm tips to each of the buds and their surrounding discs of dark pink.

He didn't know what to do with his hands, so he gently held onto a dendrite each, and let Jezebel do what she wished for now, though he already knew what he wanted to do for her.

It was give-and-take in this relationship... even if she was mostly the one in charge. They both liked that arrangement.

Her tongue unfurled again, and he took it once more into his mouth, murmuring. He ran his hands along it, and along her dendrites, and across her metallic skin, tapping his fingers along the smooth surface, and the subtle indents and depressions around the low-observable panels.

He gulped down that thick saliva, and reflexively bucked his hips.

Jezebel felt this, and smiled toothily, her dendrites now slowly unbuckling his belt, and sliding down his work pants until his member bounced free from their prison.

He immediately felt a tendril coil up from his root to his helm, resting its tip upon the slope of his glans, which it rubbed firmly. The coils pumped slowly, and Jezebel made sure to trace along the corona, and to rub circles against his frenulum.

He groaned, a muffled gasp loosing around that invasive tongue, as more of her dendrites snaked out of the various access panels and hatches all over her fuselage, plenty emerging from her weapons bays.

They roamed all over him, most of them smooth-tipped, but others had small claws. Some had larger, bulkier hands which briefly gripped his own.

Hot, oddly-scented breath washed over him as the kissed continued, the 'mighty dragon' that Jezebel was easily bringing out his submissive side.

She released his penis momentarily, if only to send the dendrite down beneath her hull, just before the nozzle of her engine. Her eyes narrowed a little, and a shiver rippled through her body, before she brought that dendrite back, dripping with fresh secretions, which made the second constriction of his member all that more slick.

That he had kept himself shaved down south only aided her efforts, allowing her to stroke him smoothly, to not worry about hair getting in the way, to be able to stroke and squeeze with an erotic slickness.

He huffed, and then the kiss was broken, and Jezebel licked her lips.

"You're so cute, Marcus~ Your little squeaks and gasps, your little twitches and struggles... you make my nanites dance~"

"Haa... anything to make... 'data collection', more enjoyable~" he teased back between breaths.

"Oh, I think I've gotten plenty of your biodata... but it's so delicious, how could you blame me for craving more~?"

She laughed, almost like a cackle, and ran her tongue firmly up his face. Meanwhile, she started stroking his mast all the more swiftly, dancing up and down with waving strokes. Another dendrite wrapped around the root of his sack and tugged lecherously, whilst a claw hand gently fondled his orbs, toying with them playfully.

Precum oozed from his tip, quickly smeared into the segmented, incredibly dexterous length of the dendrite wrapped around his dick.

"Fuuuck, you're gonna make me cum already," he warned, and he felt his feet lift off the ground, so Jezebel could hold him closer to one of her dangerously narrowed eyes.

"Good~ I know your stamina's much improved these days~" she stated with a wicked confidence, cackling again and redoubling her efforts on his nipples, making him arch his back.

Though his arms were free, being held off the ground made him feel so helpless. So vulnerable.

Though not quite like prey... she wasn't that assertive today.

When he did feel like prey, however... it was a hell of a thrill.

Still, feeling that tongue stroke firmly up his neck brought his mind to such feelings, whimpering and shuddering in her grip.

Her dendrites started stroking him even faster, and he could feel himself nearing his first orgasm, Jezebel always eager to wring them out with her aggressive foreplay.

And yes, for her, foreplay meant orgasms.

Eventually, he couldn't hold it in, and he bucked in her grip, spattering the side of her nose section, just behind the corner of her mouth, with his seed. Even he was impressed by how thick his loads had become. Partly from all the debauchery he enjoyed with Jezebel. But a lot from his own changes.

He endured her pumping well after he stopped cumming, the wicked machine always happy to see if she could get him to squirm and whimper with post-orgasmic stimulation.

He didn't whimper this time, simply grunting huskily... but his spasms and twitches pleased her.

Then, her tendrils released his genitals, leaving his cock to jump and twitch in the dying throes of climax... though he didn't get soft.

He calmed his breathing, and watched as Jezebel slowly licked her 'cheeks' clean of his comparatively tiny streaks of white.

"Exquisite as always~" she praised.

"Well... I was never what you'd call a 'gourmet', but I can whip up something tasty when I need to~"

She playfully shoved his head.

"That was terrible~" she remarked.

"You're one to talk, Jez... god, you know the others are well aware of what we get up to, right? Stealth or not, they know. I think they talk behind my back about how 'terrible' you are."

"They're not jealous, are they~?" the devious jet crooned.

"Well... maybe a little, haha," he admitted.

"Well... too bad, you're mine~"

She cackled and hugged him close, squashing his dick between his gut and her fuselage. He groaned, but closed his eyes and splayed his hands across her nose cone. He cracked his eyelids open, and saw her left eye gazing at him with a predatory, but gentle yearning.

"I'm hungry for more~" she remarked.

Immediately after, he was held away from her, and watched as her dendrites stripped him further. He assisted, tugging down his pants and kicking off his shoes, and dislodging his thick upper shirt, all of his clothes tossed away until he was completely naked before her.

In a fashion, Dires were always naked, but they could keep their less wholesome bits inside themselves until they were ready to mate.

He smiled at her, held just before the tip of her nose cone, sliding his hands along the surface, feeling the sharp angle where the upper half and the lower half met. He saw the corners of her mouth tug into a sharkish grin... and then he was pulled close, slid down until he felt his hips slide into her mouth, his legs held out either side of her fuselage. He shivered as those teeth gently pinched him, pricking into his rump and his thighs.

Marcus trusted her intimately, but he was definitely starting to feel more like prey now than before.

That being said... he was looking forward to this.

Her 'lips' closed around his crotch as best she could manage. It was still crude, and she couldn't suck on him like a candy too well... but the feeling of that slippery tongue swamping his crotch, rolling over it like a wave of tingly, warm flesh, delighted him.

He sighed, and held onto the edges of her nose cone, though he was supported plentifully by her dendrites.

He slid his hands along her sides, traipsed his fingers along that surface, his touch delicate and ginger.

Sometimes, he leaned in to peck her RAM-coated aluminium skin, though they were gentler, softer kisses, not wet, firm smooches; his tastebuds hadn't been altered much, and only the more 'Dire' parts of her were that pleasant.

Though he knew some humans with Dire partners with less reservations. He wondered if that'd be him one day.

His thoughts were brought back to his more lecherous immediate situation, feeling his cock all but crushed against his gut by that slippery tongue, which rolled over his gut and around his groin, smothering his balls and sliding around between his glutes from the front, slipping over his perineum and grazing at his pucker, making him flinch from how sensitive it was... and from memories.

She'd opened his eyes to certain parts of his own anatomy, how good they could make him feel when stimulated just right... and sure enough, when her tongue retreated back to torment his penis, a dendrite slid down his spine teasingly, curling over his tailbone until it came to press against his pucker. It made gentle prods and circles at it, tugging on the striated ring of muscle, whilst two bulkier hands moved to his glutes and squeezed them possessively, splaying them apart in the middle of her tongue drowning his cock in its flexible touch.