Strictly By The Book

Apologies for the openly military science fiction intro to this erotica; I have a problem. I added sweat and musk play because I have more than one problem. And yeah, one of the three in this threesome is trans, but that's not a problem I just think it's cool.

***

They looked like thin trees with huge, bulbous tops. But even this far out, the IR reading told a different story. Nothing on Earth burned that cold. Or at least...nothing from Earth.

"New targets coming up on the HUD!" Commander Tannhauser called out through the internal coms, tagging each entity as it emerged from behind a wilted grey forest. The longer she stared, the more detail she could pick out. Fifty feet tall, stalking on three great spindly legs that stabbed its blade-like feet into the ground with every step. Its main body, vaguely ovoid with all manner of semi-organic protrusions, bobbed with its motion and made getting a proper lock on its centre of mass difficult. Hell, in the initial few weeks of the invasion, humans could barely hit the damn things they were so mobile.

But the crew of the Thunderchild had had practice since then.

"I see em!" called out Ember, and steered the torso of their MK-44 Mobile Battle Suit to bring their weapons to bear. The hum of the pair of arm-mounted magrails filled the compartment, along with the additional heat from the tokamak reactor as it strained to charge several hundreds teslas worth of magnetic induction.

"Good. Load hypersonics and get ready to fire. Poppy, bring us closer. They're not getting away this time."

"Alright, alright," came a voice from deeper within the war machine's body, and the bipedal form lurched into motion. Stabilizing gyros came online a fraction of a second later, keeping aim level despite the jostle of a mech in motion.

This deep in country, the red weeds the invaders planted warred with the native Terran life, curling like clutching fingers around the abandoned signs of human habitation. Tannhauser couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a pasture unmarked by that morose scarlet, save for the carefully tended gardens and fields around citadel cities.

They crossed one of the old highways, gargantuan metal feet crushing cars that went for tens of thousands of dollars pre-invasion without a second thought. Many had doors left open, either from a panicked flight or from scavvers rifling through abandoned belongings. One of the rusting vehicles crunched underfoot bubbled up in protest as its lithium core hit air, igniting in the process.

"Shit!" Tannhauser saw the IR feed light up, swapping cameras to the rear view. "Be careful around those old electric ones, they light up like a fucking flare!"

In the distance, the trio of alien forms turned. Just as their absence of heat marked them to the humans, the explosion of thrown off heat marked the harsher, primitive technology of Earth.

"Here they come!" Ember called, relish in her voice. "First one on the left, range 4700 metres, loading mach rounds...firing!"

Two depleted uranium slugs in ferrous jackets accelerated to several times the speed of sound at the exact same moment, rocking the mech's torso back. In less than a second, they reached their target, punching through the semi-organic armour that the alien machines used and exiting out the back, ending up Newton only knew where somewhere down range. The machine bled a darker red fluid than human blood, seizing in fits as it struggled to remain standing. The air rippled around the remaining pair of machines, and their impossible protective shields came online. Their next shots wouldn't be so lucky.

"Buckyshot next," Tannhauser called, marking the next closest target as the priority.

"I know, I know, loading sandbag," Ember said.

"Less lip on coms, more loading," the Commander retorted. She heard muffled grumbling from the machine's gunner, but the indicator for loaded rounds flashed on both magrails. "Poppy, closer still."

"Ooh, can I do the thing? I think I can do the thing," the driver asked, increasing speed and bringing the mech up to a lope.

"Negative," Tannhauser said, "Keep procedures textbook. I don't-" The explanation died on her lips when she realized that it was too late. With the weight behind the Thunderchild in motion, there'd be nothing but a catastrophic fall if they stopped now. She gritted her teeth. The left arm ammo indicator changed back to a supersonic penetrator, and her fingers dug into her chair's armrest.

The operational tripods responded with lances of nova hot light, a mix of plasma and laser that had melted the original defenders of Earth when they had first fought. The increased speed prevented the aliens from getting a solid shot off, but still, the ablative armour on the mech's hull sizzled and sloughed off. The heat inside only increased, sending sweat down Tannhauser's brow and matting her short cut red hair to her brow. Though the temp was rising in the cockpit, inside she was fuming even hotter. Another goddamn breakdown in discipline.

"The thing" took shape as the driver brought the mech up to max speed.

"Ready Ember?" Poppy asked.

"Do it," the gunner replied.

Now within a kilometre, knife fighting range in their line of work, Poppy hopped the mech slightly, jamming its feet into the cracking asphalt on the landing. The sheer momentum kept them in motion, but slowing them enough for the first shot. The mech's right magarm fired, or rather magnetically accelerated, a densely packed projectile in a magnetic sabot. Microseconds after launching, the package exploded, sending a mist of tiny carbon spheres at an absurdly high speed. The haze of the protective heatshield could handle single tank shells and missiles, but several trillion molecule sized carbon fullerenes at once overloaded its capacity.

Back in the mech, the momentum from the buckyshot round caused the torso spin on its axis like a carousel. All three women were caught by their harnesses as the gigantic machine spun 360 degrees. By the time the left arm was lined up with the target once more, a hole had formed in the overloaded protective field.

Ember cackled. "Bullseye."

The second round was another DU penetrator. It sliced through the first alien machine, completely coring the half-alive tripod in a spray of alien goo and pulsing hardware. The round continued on its course, hitting the force field on the third and final tripod. It melted under the heat of the shield, but the mix of flying debris from its sibling, the scattered fullerenes that had blown right by the second machine, and the sheer proximity of the magnetically accelerated projectile managed to slip enough molten uranium through to shower its hull. It howled in protest before limping away, retreating deeper into alien controlled territory.

"Now that," Poppy giggled into the coms, "Is a new one for the textbook."

Her and Ember whooped, much to Tannhauser's chagrin. She was about to chime in with a proper reprimand, when her attention snapped to further motion from the damaged third tripod. At first she thought it was getting closer, but the legs themselves weren't moving. The body of the strange machine was expanding outward, atmospheric seals popping from the strain.

"Black smoke!" the Commander called, and hit the emergency lockdown button at the centre of her console. All the seals pulling in air from the outside slammed shut as if the metal colossus was holding its breath. Air recyclers kicked in, filling the cabin with the tang of ozone. Just in time, as the final tripod erupted in a cloud of dense fog. Earth plantlife that touched it wilted instantly, while the ever present red weeds seemed to perk up in its toxic presence. The cloud surrounded them and the surrounding area, coating it in the same poisonous miasma.

"Getting us out of here," Poppy said, turning around and stomping back to base. She got half way through the cloud before the emergency heat sinks kicked in.

"Stop! We're burning up!" Tannhauser called. The internal cooling system keeping the machine in operation couldn't function without air vents. Poppy ground the Thunderchild to a halt, leaving it standing like a lighthouse in a black sea. Even above the cloud, the aerosol diffusion of alien toxins would mean death for them all should they crack open a hatch. They'd have to wait until the mech cooled down, or for the fog to dissipate.

They worked in silence to power down all nonessentials, long hours of drill stepping in for a lack of crew harmony. Reduced power draw would keep them from cooking, but the mech would be exposed and vulnerable until then. The three women managed to keep their ire nonverbal until the power graph dropped down to minimum. Then-

"What the hell were you too thinking?!" Tannhauser seethed. Poppy crawled up from the driver alcove, popping the com bead out of her ear and letting the bud dangle down the neckline of her grey tank top. Mech jocks had a much looser dress code in comparison to other branches of the military, but her bright blue hair that tickled her shoulders was pushing it. She was also the tallest one out of the trio, standing a statuesque 5'4 in combat boots.

"Relax, Mags. We're still alive, aren't we?" she asked.

"I told you. In the field, I'm Commander Tannhauser. Or just Commander if you're in a hurry," Magda Tannhauser said. She was very picky with who got to use the diminutive of her given name, and undermining her authority was something she just couldn't abide in a critical situation. Everything about her was regulation, from the cut of her hair to the uniform to the unwavering tone of voice in combat.

Ember climbed out from her position as well, meaning all three were in the cockpit proper with Tannhauser. Her hair, ruddy and cut shorter than the Commander's, was matted down by the headset hanging from her fingers, which served both as her com channel and to protect her ears from the loud cracking sounds that resulted whenever a projectile launched at several times the speed of sound. Gunners had to be close to the main ammo feed in case the autoloader jammed and they had to get loading manually. Not that anyone enjoyed stuffing absurdly heavy railgun rounds by hand in the cramped confines of a mech, but Ember's muscled frame made such a task difficult, rather than impossible.

"Yeah, well, I'm not in the mood to explain why we successfully took out two tripods and sent the third packing. Unorthodox moves keep the enemy on their toes," Ember rattled off, examining her close clipped nails.

"You were successful this time," Tannhauser said, accepting the premise, "But you left us stuck in this death-haze after spiking our heat. We could have engaged at range and picked them off, one by one. Hell, waiting mere minutes later would have let the heatsinks do their thing and keep our reactor from boiling us alive. Next time respect the chain of command. I'm in charge for a reason."

"We don't always have time for that! If I had to run every maneuver by you, we'd be cut down by heat rays while we argued about footing or something."

Magda frowned. "You joined the military. This isn't a democracy. In my machine, we follow the rules."

"Rules also say you're not supposed to fuck your subordinates." Ember snapped through her own scowl.

The commander's blanched. "You...that's different."

Poppy, much to everyone's relief, took her cue to chime in. "She didn't mean that, Mags. Her blood's just up from the fight and the heat. Isn't that right, Em?" She dug an elbow into Ember's side. The gunner seethed, but seeing the intense expression on both women's faces, realised her error.

"I'm...sorry. I wasn't thinking, and I spoke out of anger," she said in a droning monotone.

"Remember what the workbook said, sweetie. Genuine contrition beats a whole page of obsequious apology that you don't mean. Focus on how Mags is feeling."

Ember huffed, but rolled her shoulders and tried again. "I am sorry."

Magda nodded. They sat around in silence for a while. Occasionally the commander would check the sensors to make sure there were no alien threats about to vapourize them. Otherwise, they stewed. Without air recycling, the scent of sweat became hard to ignore. All three women grew uncomfortable in even the meagre clothes they wore as mech pilots. Tight tank tops, shorts, and combat boots were typical. Poppy had a hairband, and Magda had a more formal-looking shirt as befitting her rank, but neither was in a state of dress one could even charitably describe as 'parade-ready'.

Another thing impossible to overlook was that the sweat made the thin clothing cling to their bodies. Magda's thicker shirt concealed more of her top, but did nothing to hide the impressive bulge she packed in her tight athletic shorts. Ember's less endowed form suffered more, as every inch of her breasts was very visible through the fabric. Poppy tried to suppress a giggle at the sight of two pouting women growing more and more revealed, but trying to hold back the laughter only made it worse. She finally broke in a peel of snorts and laughs that also relieved the tension. Like a control rod, the driver reduced the reacting elements in the room and kept them from fissioning.

"You know," Poppy began, inching closer to Ember, "We could probably find a way to pass the time until we can leave~" Her fingers trailed along the gunner's elbow, up to her shoulder. It didn't take long to pass along what she meant. Ember smiled.

Magda watched the two women inch closer, running their hands over one another. She didn't take to the heat like they did. The last thing she wanted to do while sweating a bunch was exert herself.

Poppy shrugged. "Iunno, you got a better idea with what to do while we wait for the engine to cool down? It's hot, we're already basically naked, why not? Just set the proximity scanner to chirp if it finds another signature." She swallowed up Ember's response with a much longer, passionate kiss, which she reciprocated. The two melted into each other's arms, struggling to find a comfortable place to make out in a space not designed for that. There was a hot bunk, located on the side wall, that a person could rest in if they were off of watch while in the field. But it was more of a shelf than a place where two people could "perform internal diagnostics", as mech jocks said. They ended up grabbing the blankets and pillows, laying them down directly in front of the commander, and going to town on one another.

"Now this," she said with a sigh, "Is definitely against regulations."

Poppy laughed, a melodic sound that made Tannhauser shudder whenever she heard it. "Don't pretend you don't want in on this."

"I'm...I'll just watch, thanks," Magda said, her eyes locked to the console. They'd been trying this whole poly relationship thing for a few weeks now. The three of them had been friends since boot, despite their different personalities. Poppy and Magda had been a thing for a while, then Ember and Poppy, with Magda being okay with her two friends doing things on their own without her. Joining the triangle had been risky, but the Commander had given it a shot...so long as it didn't affect their duties together.

"C'mooooon Mags!. It'll kill some time! Plus, we both know you want to show Ember what you got in those shorts~" She ran a hand up Magda's thigh, coming right up to the tip of her growing erection. The commander tensed, making Poppy move slower with her questing fingers. Rubbing the bulge in the woman's clothes made it grow, pressing against the fabric. Ember moved in closer too, looking up at Magda.

"Poppy's told me all about it," she said, "I'd like to see the thing that made her cream her brains out." It was an olive branch, of a sort. And Magda realized that her erection wasn't going to go away on its own. She undid the button on her shorts and pulled down the zipper. The pair of women underneath her took the hint and reached in, fishing out what turned out to be eight inches of girlcock.

"You weren't kidding," Ember said, in exaggerated awe of the stiffened shaft.

Poppy laughed. "Definitely enough for the both of us, wouldn't you say?"

The commander, taken aback by the enthusiasm, blushed profusely. "It's really not that big..."

Poppy gripped the cock in both hands, jerking it with casual familiarity. "Don't sell yourself short, sweets. There's a lot to handle in just my hands. I'll clearly need some help. Ember?" She moved out of the way, keeping one hand on Magda's cock. The gunner moved into position, uncharacteristically displaying some hesitation. This was their first time together, after all, and such a short time since their spat over her maneuver. She wobbled on her knees, staring at the cock's throbbing head in front of her.

"Go ahead," Poppy said with another titter, "It won't bite!" She gently pressed the back of Ember's head, gently guiding her mouth closer. It was impossible not to smell the sweat off of Magda's cock. It was positively saturated in it. Ember's eyes fluttered. She was always a bit of a muskslut, but this combined with the size of the shaft on display was too much to control. Her tongue lept out to taste the salty trails sliding down its girth, resulting in deep, blissful moans. Distantly, the commander noted that she ought to whip out her cock the next time she wanted Ember to follow orders.

"Sho good~" she mumbled, drool sliding down her lips as she continued to lavish Magda in oral affection. The commander's own reluctance melted into the mouth around her prick. It felt so good to relax into her chair and let someone else service her. Both women moaned in reciprocal pleasure, and Poppy got to work entertaining herself. She yanked down her shorts and dug fingers into her slit, toying with her clit on occasion with gentle rubbing with the palm of her hand.

"I knew a slut like you wouldn't resist. I think we make a good trio, don't you?" she asked, knowing the answer would just be moans. She joined in, scooching Ember to one side while taking the opposite for herself. They tongue-bathed the giant dick. The first droplet of pre provoked competition, however, and Poppy latched onto the tip first to drain what she could from Magda's balls. She knew from experience that Magda leaked precum like a faucet. Weak squirts and spurts poured into her mouth, inundating it with that subtle flavour tinged with Ember's saliva. Her head bobbed slowly to draw out the process. Ember, however, switched to buring her mouth in the commander's balls. One sniff and her eyes rolled back. Had she been wearing panties, they'd be soaked already. As it was, sweat and juices pooled into an even more obvious damp patch around her shorts. Had she the cognisance, she might feel a twitch of shame. But she was simply too cockdrunk to care.

Poppy pulled off Magda's cock with a wet Pop! noise, a single trail of spit connecting her lip to the tip for another moment more. "Your turn, sweetie! But first..." She pulled Ember's head up and open-mouth kissed her, shoving a mix of precum and saliva into her mouth. They sparred with tongues for a long moment before Ember, deeper in her daze, slipped easily onto Magda. Poppy slipped a finger into Ember's shorts to find exactly what she expected to find: a sopping wet slit.

"You definitely need it bad," she said, her breath hot on the gunner's ear. "I bet you want the commander's cum inside you, don't you? You pretend to be the intractable maverick but you're really just a good girl who wants to obey and serve."

Ember made an incoherent noise, but the extra moisture that slid down Poppy's finger told her everything she needed to know. She teased her folds and generally drove the muskslut into a deeper frenzy, all while Ember sucked greedily from the cock in her mouth.

Magda felt the tension rise in her waist, the growing need to pop off and fill Ember's needy throat. She pushed her hips forward, stuffing more and more cock inside.