Author's Notes: So I did not expect this story to kick off with as much attention as it did. Kudos to the reviewers for a big confidence boost. This is my first dive into writing smut, so appreciate you bearing with me as I figure it out.

A couple changes to formatting: I will be putting the T-Doll's name in the chapter to going forwards so you know who it's about. Doesn't really matter about spoilers, as far as I see, because it isn't going to have a hardcore (heheh) story. Also, I respond to reviews, so feel free to ask questions and I will do my best to answer.

Reviewers -
I Yorrick I - Glad you liked it!
Kargan3033 - Will be expanding, but it is more or less going to be a girl-of-the-week kinda deal.
PrecisionFox -
Grateful you took the time to post a review!
Calibre4130 -
Woohoo! I may have read through some other authors on this site for… research.
Reinkasahi -
Couldn't resist it.
Freddylane1 -
The same characters will return, and some will have repeat chapters, or appear in other chapters. But it will mostly focus on a different T-Doll every chapter.
Mo Eazy -
It was an experimental piece, and I see where you're going with your comments. I agree on the perspective, but please forgive me if I bounce back and forth depending on the chapter. I'll definitely be working on making the whole scene more smooth from start to finish. The intent on this one was that as she kinda lost control her awareness grew less certain, so the scenes grew faster. Not sure if that makes sense or not. And yes, I promise to avoid lewding the lolis. Though for some of them it's hard to tell what counts as loli and what doesn't.


Girls Frontline Chapter Two: Word Gets Around Perspective - Commander

Griffon Base Oberon
19:12 hours

"And this is your room, Commander!"

The spunky Shotgun swiped his keycard on the scanner and led him inside. For the last two hours she guided him through the base and showed off the entirety of Oberon, from the cafeteria to the T-Doll dormitories and even the on-site factory and repair bay facilities. Practically nothing was off limits for his access. Clearly he had access to places the regular T-Dolls did not, because Ithaca seemed just as amazed at some of the discoveries as he was.

Now that he had been formally announced as the new base Commander he received a warm reception. G&K staff greeted him with polite deference, seeking to make a good impression on their new Commander. The T-Dolls were a slightly different story; they had quite varied personalities and some greeted him with smiles while others brushed off his arrival entirely or even appeared offended by his presence.

He suppressed a small smile at the memory of an elegant T-Doll with a smart red military coat and white trousers. That one greeted him with wary, polite enthusiasm. Her precise Queen's English accent reminded him of an old acquaintance, and he could easily picture the two stood side by side.

An awed coo of approval drew his attention back to the present. He shook off the memory and stepped into the Commander's suite, his own curiosity rising as the Shotgun expressed her awe.

It was a nice suite. In layout it reminded him of a one-story studio, with a basic kitchenette directly ahead on entry, and a short hallway leading to the left. The hallway lasted six steps before opening up into the main room, with a bathroom on the left-hand wall. A compact sitting area ran the length of the main room, with a section for a pair of two-person sofas set around a coffee table, a personal writing desk, and a half-dozen bookshelves that stood entirely empty. His personal belonging had been set out on the floor in a neat row, ready for unpacking.

Following the T-Doll to the end of the main room, he stepped up the half-step to the 'bedroom' area and followed her gaze to the left. A king-sized bed filled the corner of the room, tucked behind the interior wall like a cubbyhole, with a nightstand on either side and an interior walk-in closet that looked to have a door in the back that connected to the bathroom.

"This is nice," Ithaca murmured. She skipped over to the bed and threw herself on it without asking permission. The high-quality mattress absorbed her impact, allowing the T-Doll to sink into it halfway before bouncing her up like a rubber ball. Her breasts jiggled wonderfully with the motion, straining against her top and the sheer black material that connected her top to her orange choker.

His gaze wandered up her luscious calves, teasingly clothed by black stockings that stretched up to her thighs, and realized that her miniskirt hid absolutely nothing from this angle. Like the trim of her clothes, her panties were a bright orange color that were impossible to miss.

"Uuuuugh, I wish our dorms were half as nice as this," the Shotgun complained. She pushed herself up and put her arms behind her for support. Oblivious to the display such a position offered, Ithaca grinned cheekily at him and swept her head as if to indicate the whole apartment. "You'll have to invite me over from time to time."

"I think I can manage that," he replied, offering her a nod. His attention shifted to a stack of boxes lined against the wall between the bedroom area and the bookshelves. "Do you know what those are for?"

He had not brought much with him. His material belongings amounted to a suitcase and a pair of travel bags. The place was already well-furnished though. If he had to guess, those boxes belonged to the room's former inhabitant.

"Oh, those must be from the C- the former Commander," she finished quietly, her cheery expression fading to a serious one. Slipping off of the bed, she strode over and crouched down to inspect the boxes. "Hm… yeah, that's his stuff. They must have left his non-personal things here in case you wanted to keep any of it.

He joined the T-Doll and picked up the first box. She followed him over to the coffee table, ducking on ahead to pick up the drink pads and set them aside.

"Do you mind," he asked her, inviting her to take a seat.

"I'd love to help."

She offered a brilliant smile and joined him in searching through the contents. Tactical primers, Manufacturing specifications, Guitar of Dummies… a lot of books. Mostly related to the job, but a few appeared to be books for the man's hobbies. He had many hobbies, if this one box was a fair representation of the man.

"Ooh, I remember this." Ithaca held up what looked like a diploma. It had been entirely hand-drawn with elegant flourishes and imagery around the edges. The message read 'To The Best Commander, from your girls!' The Shotgun's smile grew fond, and she gazed at the diploma with a dopey smile. "M1918 made this for him on his birthday two years back. Here, we all signed it. See? That's my name."

Ithaca handed the diploma over. He accepted it, turned it over, and saw scores of signatures covering the entirety of the paper. Most signatures were crisp and clean, some were illegible, and a few added in cute little symbols like hearts or exclamation points to their names. Her signature was large and bold.

"You all really liked him," he mused, handing the paper back.

"He was great," Ithaca agreed. After a moment of silence her ears reddened and she realized her blunder. "N-not that we don't think you won't be! He- he was with us for four years, that's all. We had a lot of time to get to know him."

"What was he like?" He smiled at her worried expression. It did not offend him that she admired her former Commander. That was a good sign, if anything. It meant he was not walking into cleaning up someone else's mess.

"Well, um…" she lowered her gaze meekly. He noted that she clutched the diploma tightly, as if afraid it would blow away. "He was really nice to us. A bit of a pushover, really, and kind of weak. But he cared for us so much! He would fret over us when we went out on missions, he would always be there waiting for us when we got back, and he would listen to us when we came to him with concerns. He was a proper gentleman."

"He sounds like a good man."

"He- he was." She sighed and put the diploma back on the box. Her gaze lingered on it, showing her reticence to abandon the paper. "Sorry, I hope I'm not making it sound like you need to live up to his standard or anything. I am sure you will be just as good as him."

The new Commander picked up the diploma and handed it back to her. "Keep it."

"Really?" Her orange eyes sparkled with joy. Hugging the diploma to her chest, she gave a dazzling smile.

"I don't intend to erase his existence from the base," he told the T-Doll. "And I will earn my reputation with you all by my own two hands. But this looks like it would be special for some of you. Don't flaunt it in my face, but you can do what you'd like with it."

Her beaming smile grew wider, and she carefully set it down on the sofa cushion beside her. They spent the next half hour going through the boxes and sorting out what he wanted to keep, what he would offer to the T-Dolls, and what he did not need. Most of the boxes held books and papers.

The last thing they found was a small jewelry box no bigger than his fist. He turned it over, examining the utter lack of ornamentation or explanation.

"Oo! That's an Oath ring box," Ithaca squealed. She leapt forward, nearly bowling over a stack of books, and snatched it from his hands. "I knew he had bought one! I knew it! Ooh, let's see who it was for."

The Shotgun clicked open the box and looked inside. She squinted, her nose crinkling in an adorable way, before shrugging and closing the box. "Hm… he never gave it to her. Strange. We were all just waiting for him to build up his courage and ask her out…"

"Ithaca?" He gazed at her patiently, waiting for an explanation.

"Sorry, Commander." She handed the box back. "You see, the old Command and M4A1 were pretty close. Everyone swore they were dating, but they always denied it and got pretty flustered when people mentioned it. He must have bought this intending to give it to her. But he- he never got the chance."

"I see." He stared at the box for a moment, then put it in the Giveaway pile.

"W-wait!" Ithaca snatched it up and shoved it over to the Keep pile. "You can't just throw these away! They're crazy expensive!"

"I thought you said it was for M4A1. She would want it, wouldn't she?"

"It would have been, if he had given it to her." Ithaca shrugged. "Oath rings aren't like your human wedding rings, if that's what you're thinking of. They're kind of unique. You see, Oath rings have special code in them that removes some of a Tactical Doll's operational inhibitors. It makes us stronger, or at least removes the software limitations on our abilities and lets us push ourselves into untested performance levels. It's kind of dangerous, to be honest, and that's part of the reason they're so expensive and rare. If you handed these out to any T-Doll you'd have us breaking ourselves left and right."

"It's a safety override," he commented, correctly understanding the purpose of the device."

"Exactly! Once a T-Doll puts it on, it'll patch her system automatically. The patch only works once, so you can't reuse it on anyone else, but the one who gets it can take the ring off if she needs to."

"I take it there is a reason why he would give it to M4A1 if they were close, then?"

"Yes. That is because Commanders are allowed to purchase Oath rings, but they are strictly regulated on handing them out. In essence, they are only supposed to give them to us if they have our absolute trust. You know, kind of like a 'come home at all costs' kind of thing. Gives us that little boost to our system in case things go bad on a mission, but the Commander has to trust that we are smart enough to not abuse it."

"That makes it sound more like a badge of honor than a romantic gesture." He watched the Shotgun's reaction. She blushed faintly and averted her eyes.

"W-well… in practice Commanders have only given Oath Rings to T-Dolls they are very… uh… close to. If you know what I mean. It's expensive enough you don't really see Commanders buying more than one, and that means they really want that T-Doll to make it back to base. It's also usually a sign that the two are a couple."

"So M4A1 and the old Commander were a couple," he mused.

"What? Oh, no, he didn't have the courage for it. We teased him all the time about being a vir- a very busy person." Her blush grew darker and she squirmed uncomfortably. "Uh… I guess we won't be having that same teasing with you."

"Hm…" he picked up the box and pondered what to do with it. "What if I wanted to give it to you, Ithaca?"

"W-what!" The Shotgun's face turned tomato-red. She nearly slipped off the sofa as her jaw dropped and her whole body shivered with a deep, shocked breath.

"Just kidding." He winked at her and put the box back on the Keep pile. "I guess I can hold onto it for now. Perhaps I will find a use for it later."

"That's mean, Commander!" Ithaca scowled. "You can't play with a girl's heart like that!"

"I guess that is one clear difference between myself and the old Commander." He chuckled softly. "Though I am not sure it will be a good thing to be known for that difference."

"That cat may already be out of the bag," Ithaca admitted. She tapped her ear. "If DSR-50 was transmitting on a Griffon channel, that means practically everyone in the C-I-C had access to it. Pretty sure your multi-hour lovefest is already known to half the base."

"Oh."

She held his gaze, though her cheeks remained flushed with embarrassment. "Just… um… out of curiosity… is that normal for you? Because that was like… a lot. I mean… golly, Kalina wasn't kidding when she-"

In the back of his mind he knew that this line of conversation was not at all the kind he should be having with a subordinate. Were it not for the fact that his personal life had been accidentally broadcast to half the base he might have shut the conversation down entirely. However, Ithaca had been there, and her expression showed part-curiosity, part-fear. For all he knew she thought he was some sex-crazed beast that had just been put in charge of a base full of attractive female T-Dolls. That could raise legitimate concerns within her.

"I was backed up," he told her, deciding it was acceptable to continue the conversation at least for a little while.

"So it wasn't just because of DSR-50?"

"She… she is very attractive."

"Hm… so that's our type?" The Shotgun lowered her gaze to the floor, muttering under her breath. "Tall, dark and mature, huh."

"What's that?"

"Nothing!" She squeaked and waved her hands. "I- um… so it's about eight o'clock. The bar will be opening in a few minutes. Want to check it out?"

He accepted her redirection with a nod. Giving the sorted piles a once-over, he confirmed there was nothing else to look through. Those could be dealt with in the morning. "I could eat."

"Excellent! I'll show the way." Ithaca bounced up to her feet and motioned for him to follow. He trailed after the shorter T-Doll, his gaze sliding over the apartment as he inspected it from the other direction. Simple, open, secure. He doubted he would be spending too much time here as it was.

"Don't forget this." He picked up the diploma and handed it to the startled Shotgun.

"Oh. Silly me! Thanks again, Commander."

"Let's drop it off at your dorm before heading over," he told her.

They made their way over to the T-Doll dorms without issue. Not many were out this late in the evening. The human staff were all either in their dorms or off base, and the T-Dolls had little to do other than the occasional security team patrolling the base. A few of them blushed at the sight of him, some of them whispered and giggled behind his back. Judging by the apologetic looks Ithaca sent him, it was because knowledge of his 'encounter' with DSR-50 was indeed spreading through the base.

"They're just jealous, that's all," she assured him. Her orange eyes twinkled with amusement. "It's an honor to be the one leading the new Commander around the base."

He smiled at her blatant attempt to redirect the T-Dolls' attention at herself. It was probably out of desire to put him at ease, to make him feel more comfortable. Not that he particularly minded. It was not a stigma he desired, but he would not shirk away from it. The event itself was not a taboo; he had been told that T-Dolls were startlingly close to real humans in many ways, and it would not surprise him to know if more than a few had lovers. Still, his tryst with DSR-50 would likely cause waves. Had it been rash of him? Yes. Stupid? In hindsight. But hindsight was useless. Ponying up to the consequences was all that lay in front of him now.

"Jealous of you?" He played along with her silly attempt to comfort him. That subtle consideration on her part made her seem far too human. Honestly, if he had not been told in advance that these girls were tactical dolls he might have never guessed they were anything but human. "Makes sense. As the Commander's guide you are getting a first-chance to know him."

"That, and we're like a power pair!" She cheekily elbowed him in the side. "Between your handsome looks and my knockout beauty we could dominate any party."

"Handsome looks?" He grinned softly as she blushed and quickly glanced away.

"D-did I say handsome? I meant handsy. Handy! Handy looks. You know, like you look like you could go- uh fix a broken faucet or a gutter or-"

"Or an embarrassed T-Doll's mouth?"

He slipped an arm around her waist, draping his hand over her hip. She gave a little squeal of surprise and flinched away from his hand, leaping forward a half-step and breaking free of his grasp. She flashed him a confused look, which he returned with a wink and a smile.

"There, stammering fixed."

She muttered something too softly for him to hear, but after a moment she lifted her head and fixed him with a challenging glare. "Commander, you can't keep teasing us T-Dolls like this. It'll make you look like some predator or something."

"Who is teasing the T-Dolls?"

A new voice broke the stillness of the night. Ithaca's glare softened into a smile, and she turned to greet the newcomer.

"Honey Badger!" The Shotgun waved cheerily at the incoming figure, a slight T-Doll wearing a punk-looking jacket, black leggings and sneakers. A small furry creature trundled along at her feet, gazing up at him with curious eyes.

"Well if it isn't the Northern Hemispheres," the newcomer drawled, casting an envious gaze over Ithaca's impressive chest. The Shotgun blushed faintly and covered her breasts with one hand.

"You can't call me that in front of the new Commander," Ithaca complained.

"This the new Commander?" The T-Doll glanced up at him, appearing entirely unimpressed.

"Yes, and you have to behave in front of him," the Shotgun insisted.

"Honety Badger doesn't give a fuck," came the curt reply.

The T-Dolls exchanged glares that did not reach their eyes. Their eyes were filled with mirth. Almost at the same instant, their glares melted into grins.

"Commander, this uncouth lady is Honey Badger. She's an SMG."

"Pleasure to meet you," he greeted, extending his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, just let me know when you've got us up on missions again. I've been itching to get me'n Betty out in the field. She's getting fat on base." She shook his hand firmly, not applying too much pressure but offering a strong grip. The creature at her feet raised itself on its hind legs and offered a gesture like a salute.

"Oh! Honey Badger! The Commander found this. I am thinking of giving it back to M1918 so she can hang it on her wall." Ithaca held up the diploma. The SMG studied the paper for a moment before shrugging.

"He used to have that up in his office, didn't he? Eh, it was before my time."

"Oh, right, I forgot you're newer to the base." Ithaca stepped into his side and wrapped her arms around his. The heavenly sensation of her breasts enveloped his arm, pillowy in their softness. "I guess I've always known the Commanders longer than you."

He sensed the unspoken jealousy that flickered across the SMG's thoughts. For a moment the two T-Dolls stared at each other, neither backing down. Seconds stretched on, and he became acutely aware that they were waiting for him to break the deadlock and say something in one's favor.

Rather than step into that minefield, he patted Ithaca's hand and started walking. "We've got to get to the bar. Ithaca, let's get this dropped off. It was good meeting you, Honey Badger. I look forward to being your Commander."

Leaving the smirking SMG behind, he escorted Ithaca the rest of the way to her dorm building. She asked him to wait outside before ducking into the room. Waiting patiently outside, he greeted the handful of T-Dolls moving in and out of their rooms and wondered what was taking her so long.

"Good evening, C-commander." G3 and stg44 blushed furiously and hurried past him, heads turned so he could only see their cherry-red cheeks.

He stopped them with a simple question.

"Is DSR back at base?"

"N-no… she decided to spend the night at the hotel." stg44 shyly refused to meet his gaze. "She said she needed to rest."

His room had been paid for in advance, and was in his name through the next morning. After Kalina's assurance that they could check out without him, he readily agreed to move into the base a day early and leave the battered DSR-50 to sleep at the hotel. It was… mostly comfortable, he guessed. Though the sheets probably needed a good drying. She was only half-conscious when the whole convoluted mess went down to begin with, so he understood if she simply slept through the rest of the day.

"Understood. Take care, then."

The T-Dolls nodded and hurried along.

"Okay, I'm ready now." Ithaca emerged from her room and grabbed his arm. For a moment he thought nothing had changed. Then he noted the paleness of her chest and realized she had… changed to a variant of her previous outfit? It was exactly the same except that the choker and attached material had vanished. His gaze settled on the creamy skin under her throat for a moment, drinking in the difference and appreciating what the absence of that sheer material revealed.

"Um… do you like it?" The Shotgun blushed under his attention.

"You are quite charming," he answered.

The simple compliment brought a brilliant smile to her lips. She grinned up at him and grabbed his arm, once again squishing her breasts into him. Dragging him along, Ithaca led him to the on-site bar, an unassuming structure on the outside. Like all buildings on-base, it was built for a sturdy and functional exterior. Once inside the doors though, the establishment drew no complaints.

Like any good bar, there were plenty of tables, booths, countertop spaces, and gaming tables. He saw some T-Dolls throwing darts in the far corner, others playing pool with Griffon staff members. There were more people at the bar than he expected. About forty in total, not counting the employees.

"Ah, you must be the new Commander." A T-Doll in a waitress outfit greeted them just inside. Her blonde hair and red eyes framed an innocent and youthful face, but there was nothing innocent or youthful about her low-cut blouse or the short-cut of her skirt. "I am SV-98. Would you like me to direct you to a spot, or are you-"

"I'm showing him around," Ithaca interrupted, cutting off the Rifle with a smirk. "Thanks anyways."

SV-98's lips pursed in a cute pout. She stepped to the side and handed him a pager. "Just hit this if you need food. G36 will take your drinks at the bar."

"Thank you, SV-98. Pleasure to meet you." He offered the same greeting to her as he did to the others before being whisked over to the bar proper. There they met a T-Doll wearing a masculine suit, complete with a red bow tie and striped vest. Her elegant features creased in a warm smile as she greeted them both.

"Commander, I am honored to make your acquaintance. G36, at your service. Shall you require a menu?"

He exchanged a look with Ithaca, curious if the Shotgun would press for a particular food or drink. Her ambivalent response told him anything would be fine, so he took the menu and ordered. In their tour of the base they had skipped dinner. A day without food hardly constituted a hardship for him, even though it had been a rather… taxing day. Still, his stomach rumbled softly as his eyes skimmed the menu. If either T-Doll heard it, they showed no recognition of his moment of weakness.

The pair ate and drank over the course of an hour, relaxing after a long day and enjoying the atmosphere. He had a few drinks, pacing himself in case the night went long. The Shotgun had no such qualms, and shotgunned shot after shot like a pro. Her face went cherry-red within minutes, and it was clear that she quickly outpaced her alcohol tolerance as she put on a brave, adventurous face for her new Commander. He hardly encouraged her. She demanded each drink without flinching, and grinned at him with an expectant smile after each shot like a puppy waiting for her master to praise her after a trick.

Ithaca had questions, lots of questions, and he politely answered those he felt like and excused himself from answering the others. His reticence to divulge his entire life story did not bother the T-Doll in the slightest. After exhausting her own questions she allowed him to flip the conversation, and she spent some time explaining the local operations, what to expect, and who he should look out for. She was quite knowledgeable, and eager to give him as much information as he requested. To that end she was a good pick for an introductory T-Doll. Her friendly and brash personality were disarming, and her intimate knowledge of the base and personnel provided a wealth of information he could not absorb from reading dossiers.

His only concern with Kalina's choice of a guide came from the withering glares Ithaca laid out on the T-Dolls who approached him. Though she did not shoo them away, her posture tensed whenever a T-Doll came up to introduce herself, and her impatient glares hurried their introductions along and sent them back to where they came from. He did not know if the Shotgun was being possessive, or jealous even, of his attention. Certainly she had made it clear she considered her spot at his side to be prestigious and praiseworthy. Kaina had mentioned the role of an adjutant position. Though he was not sure exactly what that entailed, he could imagine that any ambitious person, human or T-Doll, would leap at a chance to impress him if they were after that spot.

Perhaps he was looking too much into it.

It was hardly a black mark in his impression of her, however. He would have thought less of her if she had taken her job less seriously. It was clear her irritation with the others stemmed not from bad motives, but from a desire to see her job through to the end with excellence.

"Ahh…" Ithaca pushed the empty glass away from her and closed her eyes. "That'sh the shtuff. Hm? Ooh, I probably drank a weeeee too much, Commander. Is'should get to bed." Her head rolled towards him rather than turned. Lips curving in a broad grin, she giggled and held out an unsteady hand. "Wha's you wiggling about for? Shtaay shtill."

The bartender shot him a meaningful look as she picked up the empty glass. "Looks like Ithaca's ready for bedtime, Commander. Should I have someone take her back to her room?"

"Naah… I's my job to eshcort the Commander. Lemme take you back to your room."

Stumbling down from her stool, she grabbed his arm and tugged. Despite her smaller size she was strong, and he slipped out from his seat before she toppled him over. In truth he could have stayed out for a while yet. His alcohol tolerance was… well, he wasn't anywhere near his limit and his mind itched with thousands of questions about the T-Dolls and the base. But she was his guide, and he did have to get up in the morning for orientation. It could not hurt to turn in early. Especially after this morning's incident.

"Can I get a tab," he asked, glancing back at G36 even as Ithaca dragged him away from the bar. The Assault Rifle smiled softly and nodded after him.

"Issh thish way," Ithaca drawled, walking with exaggerated steps as she struggled to remain on the concrete walkway. Every few feet she would stagger this way or that. More often than not she stumbled into him, her lush body tumbling into his arm.

He endured the walk in silence, noting that there were not that even less were out and about. In the distance he made out the silhouettes of sentries in the guard towers, but other than those he did not see more than a handful of souls. The base really had turned in for the night. It was a marvel to see the difference between a frontline base and a rear echelon base.

On reaching his suite, he allowed Ithaca to fumble with his keycard and open up the room. The Shotgun stepped to the side and motioned for him to enter.

"We're hee-eere!"

He stepped inside, then turned around to get his keycard. Ithaca had held onto it for the day, insisting that part of her job of guiding him meant opening doors and ensuring he could sit back and enjoy himself. That being said, he needed his keycard for the morning. Or one day he could allow himself to be pampered. Tomorrow morning he needed to step out with his best foot forward. A consummate professional, that was his role starting at 6:00AM. For now he just needed a good night's rest.

Ithaca stared up at him, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Yes, Commander?"

"Keycard."

"Oh. Silly me." She held it out, but the keycard slipped from her fingers and skipped across the tiled floor of the entrance. "Oops!"

Diving after the keycard, Ithaca nearly bowled him over. He retreated into the room to avoid her thrusting head, and in doing so cleared the way for the Shotgun to exaggeratedly scramble down to her knees and snatch up the keycard. His door slammed shut behind her, caught by the shoe as she kicked it closed.

"Here it ish!" Ithaca crowed, staggering back up to her feet. She held the keycard up proudly, but clutched it to her chest after a moment. Her stupid grin faded after a moment, replaced by confusion at his stern gaze.

Standing an arm's length away, arms crossed in front of his chest, he gazed at the swaying Shotgun with an unimpressed frown.

"Knock it off, Ithaca."

"Huh?" Her head cocked to the side in a cute, coquettish manner.

"You're not drunk. I've been around plenty, and I can tell the difference between a louse and someone who's pretending to be one."

"Oh. Ah- haha, you got me." Ithaca's expression cleared up, and she blushed demurely. Lowering her head, she gazed down at her… well, she gazed down at his feet. She might have tried to look at her own but two rather large obstacles prevented her from seeing that far down.

"So what is your plan?"

"My… plan?"

"There was a point to playing the drunken fool." His fingers drummed along his arm, the only sign of impatience.

She mumbled something under her breath, timidly avoiding his gaze. The abrupt shift in her demeanor left him curious, and he allowed himself to relax just a little. Judging by her sudden shyness he doubted she had anything nefarious planned.

"What was that?"

"...missions…" she muttered. Her cheeks burned hotly, and she worked up her courage to send him a momentary gaze. It was little more than the flicker of her eyes, but it was enough to catch his attention. Fear shone in that split-second glimpse, fear and apprehension.

"What about missions?"

"..."

When it became clear that the Shotgun was not going to reply, he took a step forward and snatched his keycard from her hands. She flinched, her feet shuffling back half a step. No trace remained of the brash, exuberant guide he had been with that afternoon and evening.

"Go get some sleep, Ithaca." He reached past her and grasped the door handle.

"Heneverletmegoonmissions!"

The words spilled from her mouth, exploding out in nearly a single syllable. Ithaca's eyes bulged, and she clasped her hands over her mouth in horror at what she had said.

He released the door handle and stepped back.

"What?"

"The… the old Commander." Her cheeks and and eyebrows pinched closer together, sealing her eyes shut as she took a deep, calming breath. "He wouldn't send me out on missions with the others. I was always benched. He- he said my skills were garbage, and I- I was a useless Shotgun, and that the o- only thing I was good for was-"

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Ithaca squeaked in surprise, her whole body going rigid. After a moment of surprise she relaxed in his embrace and buried her face in his chest. She was far shorter than him, and he felt like a father hugging his daughter.

That was what Kalina had said about the T-Dolls. They were, for all intents and purposes, young women who were created at a functional level but lacked a core upbringing. Though incredibly strong and mentally tough, they were still quite delicate, with fragile hearts. He listened to the sniffling sounds coming from the Shotgun, felt the wetness of her tears leaking through his shirt, and wondered just what kind of job this was supposed to be. Was he supposed to be a tactical commander and a father-figure? One of those was easy enough, both together would be harrowing. He was a terrible example of the latter even without the added responsibility of running the base.

"It's okay, let it out." he stroked her hair and let her vent her tears. Her small fingers grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, curling into fists, holding him close.

"I don't want to be left behind," she whimpered. Her head pulled away, and she gazed up at him with wide, tear-filled eyes. "I'm always left behind. When they first made me they- they kept changing their mind and pushing things off, rebuilding me. They spent four years tinkering with me before they put me on the production floor. By that point all the others had moved on.. They were already veterans and… and… and I was just fresh-off-the-factory. And then Commander didn't want to take me on missions because I wasn't 'tanky' enough, and I didn't have enough support with MGs… and he said my skill takes too long to-"

"Shh…" He silenced her with a look. "I am not him."

"I- I know that!" Ithaca gulped loudly. Her cheeks reddened when she realized she was clinging to him, and she hastily pulled back. Content to let her step away, he lowered his arms and backed up another pace, putting clear distance between them.

"I thought you liked the Commander."

"I… I did. He was nice, and a really good guy." She offered a weak, uncertain smile. "Just because he didn't let me out on missions doesn't mean he was a bad man."

"But he did not utilize your talents."

She shrugged, blinking furiously as she tried to stop the tears from trickling down her cheeks. The T-Doll was… adorable. Cute, even. She had a youthful innocence to her that stirred something he was not sure he wanted stirred. Every T-Doll he had seen possessed exceptionally attractive features. Ithaca's earnest expression reminded him less of a warrior and more of an impressionable young woman. That combined with her prominent breasts and tender body made for a very dangerous combination. A combination he felt affecting him despite his reticence.

"Well… that's why… I wanted to make a good impression on you."

"By pretending to be drunk."

"By…" her blush darkened, and she nervously poked her fingers together in front of her chest. "Doing what DSR-50 did."

"..." It was his turn to lower his gaze down to his feet.

"I… I figured that if we… if we did that… and you liked me, maybe you wouldn't-"

"Stop talking." He lifted his head, gazing just past her at the door. After a long, uncomfortable silence, he gestured for her to come further in. "Go take a seat. You drink tea?"

"Um… yes." She bobbed her head once before slipping past him and heading for one of the sofas.

While she tidied herself up he checked out the kitchenette. Of course, there was just water. Hardly even enough cups in the cabinet to share between the two of them. He filled each glass regardless, and made a mental note to go shopping as soon as he had the time to. Perhaps he could have his adjutant take care of that for him.

"All I have is water, apparently." He set the glasses down and took a seat on the opposite sofa. Leaning back into the cushion, he crossed one leg over the other and settled his gaze on the bashful Shotgun.

Neither spoke for a moment. That moment gradually turned into a minute, then several. A few times Ithaca opened her mouth to speak, but then her cheeks would redden and her eyes would drop to the table, and she would pick up her glass and take a calming sip. He remained silent through it all, ignoring the uneasy atmosphere, occupying himself with studying the T-Doll. Noting her slightest twitches, listening to the pounding of her artificial heartbeat. They were miraculous things, really. So unnaturally lifelike and human. He wished he had met the one who first came up with the idea. To pick the brain of such a genius would leave him satisfied for… decades.

"I… I really screwed up, didn't I?" When she finally spoke, it was with a defeated tone. Placing her hands in her lap, she heaved a sigh.

"Ithaca, did you really think that was the best way to make an impression on me?"

"B- but, DSR-50 said…" the Shotgun fell silent, and turned her head away. It was clear she was biting her tongue, regretting that she had spoken.

"She said what?" His tone was gentle, but firm. Slipping a sliver of command into his voice, he asserted himself and made her answer. It might lack finesse, but Ithaca was clearly upset and confused. Part of his responsibility as a Commander was to work with her through this and also to make sure that no unsavory rumors would spawn based on the incident at the hotel.

"..."

"Ithaca."

Her eyes turned back to him, peering up at him with a scolded pout. The image was breathtaking, and he had to wonder if she knew how devastating that expression was. Suddenly feeling a tightness in his pants, he cleared his throat and leaned forward to grab his own water. The motion hid the subtle adjustment he made of his pants, and when he sat back he had switched legs.

"She said you were really nice to her. Despite all the- um… things you did. I thought that… if we did it… and you were really nice to me…"

"You were going to give me your body for a chance to go out on missions?" He frowned. "Trade sexual favors for special considerations."

"Ah!" Her body flinched at his brusque explanation. Her eyes watered again, and she hastily wiped her eyes. "You make it sound-"

"Ithaca, have you done this before?"

"What? No! I didn't even- it was only because you took DSR-50-"

He raised a hand and the Shotgun fell silent. "What happened between myself and DSR was… that was not done for favors. I was confused about her purpose there. I genuinely thought that she had been sent in to entertain me, and I didn't know enough about how you all operate to know otherwise. Honestly, I was disappointed in your organization when she offered herself. It made me question the integrity of Griffon."

"But! But you still… with her…"

He nodded, accepting her point. "Did you listen to the recording?"

"I-" her cheeks darkened to a deep, crimson flush, a sure sign that she had. When, he was not sure. But if she was an AI or whatever she was he had little doubt she could have been listening to it while she took him on the tour. Watching it, too.

"Before we did anything, I asked her if she had come on her own accord. I was not going to take her if she was unwilling. I understand now that DSR wanted to seduce me and sneak out before things went too far. It was a misunderstanding on my part, and a miscalculation on hers. That is all."

"But… you'll take care of her now, right?"

"Take… care?" His lips tightened, and he raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"She's your woman now, isn't she?"

"My- is that what you think it is?" His grimace grew more strained. "Ithaca, I honestly don't know. I won't know until I talk to her about it. To me, she was a great lay who offered herself to me, and to her I was just a scummy slaver that she got in too deep with. It was… shit, I don't even want to think about the trauma I put her through now that I know who she thought I was. But that's not your business, it is ours.

"What you need to understand is that this strategy of yours, it's not going to work. It's half-baked, precarious, and inherently self-destructing. Say we do sleep together, and that it does make me more inclined to reward you with going out on missions. Other T-Dolls hear about it, and maybe they start offering themselves to me too. What happens when you become replaceable? You lose your inside track, maybe you get benched again, and the only thing that's changed is you've soiled yourself. A man that can be bought with sexual favors isn't a man who can be trusted."

"I… I know that…" she bravely put on a smile, though tears leaked from her cheeks. "I just… I don't want to be the one who welcomes them back anymore. Every time they come back, and I see them shot to pieces, or their broken bodies are carted in on scrap wagons… it makes me wonder if they would still be standing if I were there to protect them."

Her body shook with a sudden, restrained sob. "I'm a Shotgun, Commander. It's our role to protect others. I can't protect anyone when I'm stuck on the base. My friends… I've seen so many of them come back in pieces. I- I just want to protect them! I'll do anything to protect them. Even- even if I have to… to soil myself to do it."

There was a grim finality to what she said. It was true her plan was half-assed and rushed, likely she put it together on the fly from the time she saw DSR-50 and the whole situation was explained. That did not mean her heart wasn't in it. Well, not exactly her heart. But her determination. Her eyes pinched closed, cheeks tightened as she struggled to contain her emotions, her knuckles were white against her knees. When she stood up, there was no trace of hesitation in her. One of her hands slowly unclenched, and reached behind her for her zipper.

"There is no need for that," he warned her, standing as well. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he forced her arm down to her side. "Once I get the hang of the base, I will put you T-Dolls through evaluations to get a feel for what everyone can do. If you want to go out on missions, you can prove yourself there."

"R- really?"

"I am not going to lie and say that I am a good man," he told her. "But I am not the kind of man that takes advantage of desperate girls. Not like this. Do your best, try hard, and you will earn a place on the field."

The Shotgun remained silent for a moment, gazing up at him with an unreadable expression.

"Ithaca?" His grip slackened on her, dropping his hands when he realized he had been holding her for a little too long.

"Thank you!" The Shotgun leapt up at him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling herself up to plant a kiss on his cheek. Her short stature caused him to grunt in alarm; he reflectively caught her by the hips and held her in the air, afraid she might fall and take him with her. His fingers sank into the lush flesh of her hips, digging into her bare skin. Unbalanced by the weight of her, he stumbled back and fell onto the sofa, carrying her with him so she ended up straddling his lap.

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Her lips crushed into his cheek with each exclamation. Ignoring his grunt of protest, the Shotgun hugged herself to him and kissed him over and over, gratitude pouring out of her as if he had just promised her the world.

"It- Itha- Sto- Ith-mmph!"

He tried to interrupt her, pulling away rather than pushing her back. He did not want to hurt her by shoving her off his lap. In the process of getting her attention his head tilted to the side, and Ithaca's lips caught him not on the cheek, but straight on the lips.

For a breathless moment the Shotgun froze. Her whole body tensed, going rigid in his hands. Her orange eyes opened wide in shock. It took him a moment to realize he was still holding her by the hips; when he brought his hands up to catch her they slid under her short skirt and were touching her naked flesh directly save for the thin strap of her panties.

"Ithaca…" he eased his head back, breaking the accidental kiss. Amazingly, he felt heat against his crotch, and realized that it wasn't just the contact of her clothed groin against his.

"C- Commander…" Her expression softened, and Ithaca lowered her eyes. "I… um…"

The Shotgun chased after him, pressing her lips softly against his. Her kiss was gentle, exploratory, lips rubbing against his, teething nipping at his lip uncertainly. A whisper-soft groan wheezed from her throat. Clenching her fingers on the collar of his shirt, she held him still and nibbled on his mouth.

He could not deny she tasted wonderful. A fruity lipstick that tasted like oranges tickled his tongue. Her soft groans were sweet and innocent. His cock hardened despite his best efforts to hold it back, making his pants uncomfortably tight with the weight of her surprisingly heavy body. She was not a fat girl, nor would he call her thick, even. The only thing that was not petite about her were her breasts. Two amazing, glorious breasts that rubbed against his chest each time she rocked against him.

"Ithaca, you don't have-"

"Maybe I just want to," she gasped. Her breath washed over his face, surprisingly clean and cool despite all the alcohol she had drank that evening. Well, she wasn't a real human. Her mouth felt human, tasted human, but it lacked the biological imperfections that left scents in it or grew rotten with lack of care. Even her saliva was likely a cleaning fluid, safe for humans to ingest, but designed to wash away impurities and foreign substances from her mouth.

Despite his unease with the situation, he had not released her body. His fingers were rubbing against her, teasing her flesh with little circular motions. The Shotgun groaned when his thumbs unconsciously hooked themselves around her panties and pulled.

"I… I really think I like you," Ithaca panted. She dove in and kissed him more aggressively. Her tongue flailed against his lips, willing them to open. "And… DSR-50 looked really happy. I'd like to… taste that."

"Have you given yourself to a man before?"

"Nope." She sat back on his thighs, still clutching his collar as if she might dive back in. A lusty gleam had settled in her eyes. "You would be my first."

"And you want to give your first to a man you just met?" He forced himself to release her body. Pulling his hands down to the sofa cushion, he intentionally placed them palms down, removing the urge to grasp her soft, warm body. She smelled lovely, he noticed. The floral perfume that seeped into his nostrils set him at ease, filled him with a sense of longing and desire that paired all too powerfully with her sensual body.

It wasn't fair in the slightest. DSR had been different because she came at him from a position of strength. She thought she was the seducer, and that kind of thing got him riled up far easier than he was willing to admit. He had been able to use that to take control of the situation from the start. This was different. Ithaca was not some confident succubus that wanted to overpower him with her suave charm. She was naive, exuberant, and untrained. That childish biting of her lower lip as she stared at him, the cute furrow of her brows as she contemplated what he said… she was like a delicious snack handed to him on a silver platter.

The darkness in his heart surged at the succulent offering. It took a great deal of willpower to keep himself from throwing her onto the couch and ravishing her tempting body.

"I... maybe I am being foolish," she murmured. One of her hands fell away from his neck, sliding down his chest until it came to rest on his belt buckle. It was not an intently sexual move, but he twitched excitedly at the faint pressure of her fingers against his pants.

"You shouldn't throw yourself away like this." He hoped his tone sounded reproachful. In truth, he was far more vulnerable to this sort of temptation than DSR's. He could handle wicked people easily enough. It was the innocent that played havoc on his heart. Every moment with the Shotgun sitting on his thighs was excruciatingly painful for the amount of willpower it took to hold himself back. His gaze darted instinctively to the table, and he wondered if it would hold their weight.

"If you are worried about my first time, that isn't a big deal to me." Ithaca blushed despite her assurance. "We don't have… hymens, is it? Some of us are more concerned about it than others. Me, I was always just waiting for the right man."

"And you think I am Mister Right?"

"Well," she batted her eyelashes. "I think you just might be."

"A few minutes ago you were practically shivering with fear at the prospect," he reminded her.

"That was because I wasn't sure my amazing seduction techniques would work," she shot back, cheekily sticking out her tongue. It was pure bluster, though she did appear remarkably recovered from the sobbing girl that fell apart in his entryway. After a few seconds of that brave face, her mask cracked, and she sheepishly glanced away from him. "I… I just wanted a chance to prove myself. That is what scared me. The rest of it… I can handle myself, you know. We T-Dolls aren't fragile."

Except he almost broke DSR, he wanted to say. Biting his tongue, he instead reached up and cupped the T-Doll's chin. Her breath caught in her throat at his soft touch. Pulling her head back to face him, he gazed into her eyes and looked for any sign of regret, of uncertainty. Anything to give him an excuse to tell her to leave.

"I want this," she murmured, her voice sounding distant and muffled.

Meekly, she allowed his hand to draw her face into his. Their lips brushed together, tentatively at first, then a second time with force. It was not a violent, crushing kiss, but a determined kiss. His lips parted for the first time, and he used his tongue to pry her lips apart. The muted squeak of surprise that greeted his invasive attack made him grin, and he wasted no time in exploring her mouth. Their tongues flicked against each other like two dogs passing along the same trail. She moaned into his mouth, her heartbeat quickening at the unfamiliar but slimy sensation of his tongue.

For some time they sat there, not touching or petting, just kissing. His one hand remained on her jaw, and hers on his neck and belt, but neither made any aggressive moves. He was still not sure if he wanted to be the aggressor here. For now he contented himself to enjoying her sweet lips. Her kisses grew more passionate, her tongue began to press against his, dueling for control first of her own mouth, then of the space between their lips. He obliged her, allowing her to push him out of her mouth, teasingly giving ground. Each millimeter he retreated incited her spirit, and she began an attack of her own, anxiously spearing her tongue towards his lips, fighting to get past him and taste his own mouth.

"Easy, Ithaca." He pushed their mouths apart with the faintest pressure of his thumb on her chin. The T-Doll's face was flushed, her eyes wide and her breathing ragged. "I'm not going anywhere."

It was a simple platitude, a pithy remark to calm her down lest she get too excited and overexert herself. But his words seemed to have the opposite effect. A brilliant sparkle danced in her eyes, and her mouth curved in a hungry grin.

"Just for tonight," she muttered. "You're mine."

She went to lean back into him, but he beat her to it. Lowering his mouth to her neck, he began kissing her soft throat. He had no fear of bruising her; not long-term at least. After the intense and somewhat excessive sex with DSR he had not found a single lasting bruise on her body, and he was sure he might have left marks on some parts of her. T-Doll tissue had incredible regenerative properties, so he had no worries as he sucked on her neck, sometimes biting down until the Shotgun gasped.

"That's- ahhh- sensitive," she panted, but did not push him away. Her fingers curled in his hair, hugging his head to her neck, unwilling to pull him away. Her other hand fumbled awkwardly with his belt. The position was bad, and she failed miserably. That did not mean he failed to appreciate the pleasing sensation of her fingers dancing along his clothed cock as she groped for his buckle.

His own hands roamed across her back, exploring her bare skin while he sought out the zipper she had reached for earlier. Here he found more success than she, and the Shotgun let out a little groan of delight when he pulled the zipper down to her buttocks. He could not see her back, but her skin was soft and cool, smooth as a baby's bottom. The muscles of her back pushed against his wandering fingers, tightening when his touch spilled over them, relaxing when his teeth bit down right… there.

"Aaaahhhh," Ithaca let out a shameless moan. "That's-"

Whatever she was about to say vanished under a second, throatier moan as he bit down again, not hard enough to break her flesh but hard enough her eyes clamped shut and her whole body tensed up. He marked that point in his memory and moved on, seeking out other pleasure points as he helped himself to her body.

"Your- your belt," she complained, tugging fitfully at the unyielding leather.

"In good time."

Both his hands made their way down to her plump bottom. Where DSR's ass had been thick and juicy, Ithaca's was tight and trim. There was little give to it, though her skin was soft there was no excess fat there. It seemed all her fat stored itself in her mammaries, not that he was complaining. His fingers dug into Ithaca's ass, eliciting a yelp from the Shotgun as he began to knead her taut buttocks. She rose up onto her knees, burying his face in her cleavage as she reflexively pulled away from his rough hands.

"I- ahh- Commander!"

It only took him a moment to change tactics. With two amazingly soft globes squishing against his face, he was right where he wanted to be. It was harder to do it hands-free, but he bit down on the lip of her top and dragged first one part of it, then the other, down until her exquisite breasts popped free. They were soft, fleshy, and they sagged just the right amount. He didn not dislike pert, upright breasts. Each kind was wonderful in its own way.

He kissed his way across each breast, moving from the top of her cleavage down to each nipple, planting a dozen kisses between each. Her nipples were thick and stubby, surrounded by areolae nearly two fingers-wide. Flicking his tongue against them, he teased her body until she was panting for breath, desperately clinging to him as if afraid he might stop and push her away.

"My… they're too sens-owww!"

Her body jerked, not because he had taken her nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, but because she bit her tongue. Acutely aware of her sudden pain, he pulled back and looked up at her.

"Ah bit mah tahngue," she complained, carefully not closing her teeth again.

"Stick it out," he ordered.

Her brows narrowed in confusion. After a few seconds of stillness he adopted a stern tone and said it again, this time emphasizing the command with a squeeze on her ass. She shivered, and obediently pushed her tongue out of her mouth.

He captured her tongue, carefully pinching it between his teeth, avoiding the bright red sore spot where she had bit herself. Pulling her close, he slid his tongue against hers and gently rubbed against the soreness, drawing a whimper from the girl that was not quite pained.

While she was distracted with their tongues, he pulled his hands back and began to play with her breasts. He did not consider himself to have a breast fetish; he enjoyed all parts of a woman's body, especially those that drew the greatest reaction from them. Breasts were easy to play with, they were fun to play with, and they universally brought pleasure to a woman. With two great funbags squished against his chest he could not help but avail himself. His coarse palms skimmed across her soft flesh, his thumbs nudged and pinched her nipples like they were tiny joysticks. The pain began to fade from her awareness, replaced by the intimate pleasure of his gentle assault.

He finally released her tongue, and their mouths separated with a wet pop. Saliva dripped freely from the corners of her mouth, her tongue appeared no less red, but any sign of pain had vanished from her love-drunk expression.

"I… I want to feel you." Her hands pressed against his chest, drawing together at the buttons, and she began to carefully unbutton his shirt one button at a time. She moved slowly, timidly, halting every few seconds when his experienced hands drew a shiver and a moan from her lungs. Her nipples had grown fully erect, and he rolled them between his fingers, tweaking and tugging them just enough to elicit the most pleasure for her.

Her top lay crumpled about her waist, revealing her pale stomach. He lowered one of his hands, reluctantly abandoning her chest to spread his fingers over her belly. Ithaca rolled her hips, pressing herself into his hand, eager to savor as much of him as she could. Her lips pressed against his ear, kissing his face and even daring to bite down gently. She was not the most timid lover he had been with. He enjoyed the little bit of fire she had in her. It was a nice blend of innocence and desire. A really… nice…

"Mmh Commander!"

His hand had slipped low, sliding between her skirt and her waist, digging under her panties and zeroing in on the boiling source of heat. Her underwear was drenched, wetting even his pants, and his fingers felt hot from the intensity of her arousal. When his fingers brushed against her twitching slit she let out a loud, breathy gasp. A sharp pinch on his ear warned him she had bitten him, and those fingers that had been carefully undoing his shirt jerked, violently tearing the last of the buttons free.

He kissed her neck, drawing her shock back into her, calming her body as she writhed against his fingers. Ithaca's hips twitched, and the Shotgun drew back with an apologetic grimace.

"I… you surprised me. Oh, you're sh-"

"It's fine." He silenced her with a finger to her lips. Ithaca's eyes widened, and she obediently accepted his finger into her mouth. It was slick, wet with the juices excreting from her hungry cunt. A dazed look came over her, and her posture drooped, the tension draining away. As her head slumped forwards her eyes fell on his chest, and she blushed furiously. "You've seen my chest before," he reminded her.

"Bu… not like this. You're…" her hands crept along his skin, fascination brimming in her eyes. She tried to play with him like he had played with her, rubbing her thumbs against his nipples, teasing his chest with her fingers. It did not work on him nearly as well. He never found much pleasure from the physical touch there. The sight of it could arouse him, but her meager attempt did nothing for him. Not that he would let her know that. Offering a fake but real-enough-sounding groan, he arched his back a little and let the T-Doll smile to herself.

That little bit of encouragement was enough for her to try and take the lead. Darting forward again, she kissed him. She seemed to really like kissing, and her hands left his chest long enough to grab his arms and tug them behind her. Accepting her desire, he wrapped her in a tight embrace and crushed her to his chest, holding her so tight she gasped for breath. That did not stop her from continuing their wet, hungry kiss.

"Cmmhnddhhhrr," she groaned into his mouth, clinging furiously to him, rocking her hips against him with growing urgency. Too engrossed in the kiss to pull away, she mumbled her wishes in incoherent grunts and groans. "Hnnndooishhddmmee."

He understood her intent, and obliged. Freeing one of his hands, he burrowed between their entwined bodies and expertly unbuckled himself. Handling his belt with ease that might have made her pout had she been aware enough to watch, he undid his pants and dragged his raging hardon from his pants. He was not going to lie. He was extremely turned on with the Shotgun, and his self-control was slipping. The burning need to lunge his cock into her tight pussy snapped at his discipline, a starving wolf dragging down the injured caribou. His control wasn't going to last much longer.

Not that it needed to.

There was no warning for the Shotgun. Unwilling to free himself from her addictive lips, he roughly shoved aside her panties and buried himself in her with a single, painful thrust. He was not sure who gasped louder, himself or her. Ithaca's pussy was not just tight. It was like trying to jam his cock into a soda bottle. He swore, head whipping back in an expletive-laden gasp as he plowed into her, forcing her insides apart with so much friction his mind nearly went white. Her vagina contracted tightly around him, convulsing as if it were trying to cut his cock in half. It was an experience like he had never felt in his life. He had been inside tight women before, honestly perhaps even tighter than Ithaca. But he had never encountered anything like the insane muscle strength in her cunt. It was a literal cock-breaker.

"Fuck…" he grumbled, his mouth pressed into her shoulder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck…"

It took every ounce of willpower to not explode inside her, narrowly avoiding a humiliating premature ejaculation even as he desperately tried to pull himself free. It was harder getting out of her than going in, perversely enough. Her vagina contracted furiously, sucking him into her, fighting like a rabid beast to keep him inside. Every second inside her cunt was torture; a hellish combination of extreme pressure and suction trying to squeeze out not just his cum, his whole cock. Though only halfway inside her, he struggled to pull back, and just barely made it out of her before he lost control and spewed inside her.

Panting for breath, and horrified at how easily he almost lost himself, he rested his head against her shoulder and used her thundering heart to steady himself. The rapid, soothing beat washed through him, calming his raging nerves and drawing his attention from the painful need burning in his hips.

"Haa… haa… ha…" Ithaca's harsh breaths rasped in his ear. He listened to her ragged gasps, felt her chest heaving into him, and came to the startling realization.

"Did you… you came just from insertion?"

"Ahhh… I… big…"

His embarrassment at the near-total failure of performance washed away. Her vagina was not that inhumanly tight and amazing, she just fell straight into an orgasm when he pierced her. It was no wonder he had nearly blown his load inside her just like that.

A few more seconds cooled his head and eased the dizzying hormones from his mind. His head cleared and he looked over her, drinking in the crimson glow on her cheeks, the dreamy emptiness in her eyes. Her body continued to twitch in his arms, still shaking from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"Let's try this a little gentler." Easing himself back up against her, he rubbed his cock against her gushing slit and spent a moment familiarizing himself with her. He basked in the raging fire spilling from inside her, relished the thin folds of skin that clenched tightly together to prevent him from entering her. Forgoing her slit for now, he gripped her hips and pulled her back and forth, sliding her against his cock, pressing his head between her tight cheeks. She lacked the meat to fully engulf him, but he enjoyed the warmth of her body, and by sliding his cock across her slit he was getting it sufficiently wet that a second insertion should be easier for both of them.

"It's… haaa… hoooot…" Ithaca nuzzled against his throat, letting out little moans each time he thrust against her. "Com- Commander… I want… ihhht."

Slowly, gently, he nudged his cock into her folds and split her open. He went in carefully this time, savoring the tight muscles of her vagina, enjoying how they squeezed against his cock even as they eased apart. It was truly a marvelous feeling, one he could never grow tired of. Clenching his teeth to hold off his own pleasure, he buried himself in her with excruciating slowness.

One inch.

"Mmmh… your head is so biiiiiig…"

Two inches.

"Nnnrr! Too big!"

Three inches.

"AAAaaa! Shit! Give me a-"

Four.

"Mmm… I think I just… ooooohhh wow."

Five.

"More? Hhhngg, sssslow down! Slow dooo-oooowwn!"

Six.

"Splhitting me open! Eeesssyyy! C-C-Commander!"

Seven.

"Ahhh-haaaaa! Aah! Ahh! Mmmph!"

Eight.

"Mpp! Mmphpmmp!"

By the time he reached the hilt, burying his full length inside her, Ithaca had suffered another pair of orgasms. They were not quite as powerful, and did not squeeze him as ruthlessly as before, but they left him sweating from the effort of holding himself back. Her pussy was divine; addictive wasn't a fair word for it. If his cock was a junkie, her pussy was the crack dealer. Terrible analogy, but his mind was struggling to stay conscious and he was biting back his own harsh breathing as he fought to maintain control.

"Is… it all?"

The T-Doll lifted her head, leaning into him for support until her nose brushed against his chin. He kissed her forehead, drawing a weary smile from the Shotgun.

"Yeah, it's all in."

"Then… you cum now, right? Her eyes blinked drowsily, fighting to stay awake.

"Already?" He forced himself to sound confident. In all honesty he was biting the back of his tongue to draw his attention away from the scalding heat of her pussy and its numbing tightness. He was so very tempted to blow his load already. "We haven't even started."

"Wh- what?" A hint of alarm sparked in her eyes. That was all she got before he pulled himself back. Drawing halfway out of her, he reached the point where he had initially stopped and took a deep breath. The T-Doll relaxed as her inner walls closed in again, groaning with the sweet relief of his absence.

His next thrust was much faster than the initial penetration, but not quite so deep. Still, she squealed as she was forced open, and her fingers clawed into his back until his shirt ripped and he felt the savage heat of skin tearing under her nails. Not wasting a moment, he began to roll his hips in short, careful thrusts. Not going too deep, but not pulling too far out either. He gave her time to adjust to his size, shoved his cock against the same spots that were clearly more sensitive than the rest of her canal.

Short, half-screamed gasps blasted in his ear as Ithaca clung to him, unconsciously squeezing her thighs against his hips as they fucked on the couch. He held her steady with one hand on her backside, kneading her ass as he eased her up and down in rhythm to his thrusts. His other hand groped her bare chest, alternating between massaging her skin and tormenting her nipples. The added stimulus quickly drove her into another orgasm; he marveled at the ease with which the T-Dolls orgasmed. If she and DSR were a good example of their kind, it was almost as if the designer of the Tactical Dolls was a giant perv who planned to fuck his creations from the start. They had all the right bits, the right erogenous zones even, and were delightful in his hands. Yet they lacked the imperfections of humanity; bad breath, sweat, the pain of a hymen. They were designed to be the perfect women, as far as he could tell. Certainly he appreciated how her skin remained smooth and dry in his hands. While a little sweat was nice sometimes it could make the morning after rank and unappealing.

A loud, heaving breath exploded in his ear. Ithaca's belly clenched back to that choking tightness, clamping down so fiercely on his cock he found himself unable to move. The muscles in her vagina milked him furiously, straining to drag him further inside her. All the while her sweet breath rasped against him and her erotic moans filled his head.

It was too much. He groaned into her shoulder, biting her tender skin as he blasted a load inside her. Her whole body seemed to rock with the recoil of his ejaculation, rippling in his arms, and she cried out in ecstasy as his cum spewed inside her.

"Shit…" He groaned weakly, sinking into the sofa. Ithaca lay limply against him, her body spent and exhausted, and they spent a long minute in silence. Their hands touched aimlessly across each other's bodies, savoring the heat of their skin. His breathing was slightly ragged, which surprised him for how little they had done. Then again, he had spent a good part of the day now having sex. He had only so much stamina.

"Mmm…" Ithaca's groan startled him, and he quickly checked on her. Her eyes were half-closed, and a dopey smile filled her face. "Heehee, Commandah came inshie mee…"

"Ithaca?"

He had not pulled out of her yet. His cock remained inside, somewhat softened but still about half-erect, giving her body more time to adjust to his thickness. The pressure of her inner walls was hell on his over-sensitized cock. Resisting the urge to pull himself free, he began to gently rock her body. The subtle back-and-forth motion left him gritting his teeth to not moan as his cock stirred her and his juices together. Together, the two excretions formed a slimy lubricant that further relaxed her walls, easing the pressure on them both and making it just a little more pleasurable.

"Let's get you to bed," he whispered to her.

Of course, he had no intention of stopping now. At least one more time, he decided. That was probably all he had left in the tank. It had been a long day, he had not eaten much, and the last thing he needed was to pass out from dehydration and exhaustion on his first day.

Scooping his arms under her knees, he warned her to grab his neck and then stood up. Ithaca seemed pretty out of it, but she retained the presence of mind to follow orders. Clinging desperately to him, she let out a cry as he rose to his feet, his cock still embedded inside her. It took him a moment to steady himself, adjusting to the mass and weight now hanging off of him. Those little motions caused Ithaca to cry out, and his cock rapidly hardened again. It caught her by surprise, but he had more or less expected it. Still, he nearly dropped her when she let go with one hand, frantically grabbing at his hip as if to push him away.

"Ahhh! Give me a minute! Give me a-aaaahhhh… haaa…"

He allowed a moment only to shrug his pants down to his ankles and kick them free. His underwear remained about his thighs, and his shirt was still open, and frankly shredded from her nails. The T-Doll still had everything on, just her blouse pulled down to her waist and her panties eased aside. They hadn't even stripped each other down. It was… he regretted that somewhat. Clothed sex was impersonal, to a degree. Maybe once they were done he would properly strip her and… and… oh shit, she's too tight.

The simple stimulation of hanging from him while his cock moved inside her was too much for the T-Doll. Ithaca came in his arms, her back arching as her head pressed into his chest, seeking to dig a hole through him and escape out the other side. Still a bit unbalanced after his own orgasm, he nearly lost it then and there. With a start of surprise he realized he likely wouldn't even last to the bed.

"You horny little slut," he growled, straining to keep his wits about him. As if on their own accord, his hips started to thrust into her. The Shotgun yipped and cried as he had his way with her, impaling her again and again with every staggering, uncertain step towards the bed. It was only a dozen steps.

"Maah… Haaa… Give me moooooore…"

Ithaca' own body began to hump against him, furiously rocking her hips without rhythm or reason. She did not match his pace. She did not match any pace, but mindlessly threw her hips into his cock as if her life depended on it.

The ferocious assault nearly buckled his knees. He staggered into the wall, fighting to maintain his balance as her full-body thrusts nearly sent them both tumbling to the floor. He nearly gasped aloud when he realized he was rapidly approaching another climax. Shit! This delicious minx and her damn pussy were milking him like it was her-

"Ith- Ithaca…" He could not keep the strain from his voice. Placing his back to the interior wall, he leaned into it and planted his feet, growing dizzy from her fanatical assault. He did not stop thrusting into her. If anything, his speed increased, hips rolling in autopilot in a desperate race to catch up to her before he lost his mind.

"C-Comm-Cumming!" She shrieked as her body exploded in the fuck only knew-th orgasm of the night.

It was too much. She was too damned much.

His hands tightened on her hips, locking her against him amidst her savage climax. Her nails scored across his neck, drawing blood. Her teeth bit down on his collarbone, muffling her scream. A wave of energy crashed through them both, their bodies syncing together in one final-

Shoving her body off of him, he held her dangling in the air, the tip of his cock just barely inside her. He felt the surge spilling through him, felt the heat pouring up through his cock, and knew he had just seconds before he lost control. Tightening his legs, pushing himself into the wall so hard the texture of the paint scraped against his bloodied back and sent a wave of pain crashing through him, he focused all his effort into one last thrust.

While he held himself motionless, he slammed her body down on his cock. Ithaca's scream left him dizzy as she came from the intense penetration, but his arms didn't stop. He forced her back up, then slammed her down again, brutally slam-fucking her body on his cock seven times. Every single time she orgasmed, each one more powerful than the one before as they exploded rapid-fire through her body. Halfway through he lost himself, and his seed sprayed deep in her belly, then squirted out across her chest and face when he pulled out too far, then deep into her womb as his final thrust took him all the way to her precious, innermost barrier. Her shrill cry mirrored his own throaty roar as he forced himself past the limit of consciousness, filling her body with his seed as they both slumped to the floor and his vision turned black.

He woke up only seconds later, his chest heaving with effort, sweat stinging his eyes, and his body utterly spent. Ithaca lay curled up in his lap, her cheek resting on his chest, her head fitting neatly under his chin. Her whole body lay entwined with his, her legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck. Like a baby clinging to its parent, the Shotgun breathed in deep, relaxed breaths. She was still out, and likely would be until morning.

"You know," he muttered, running a tired hand through her hair. "Maybe that plan wasn't so half-baked. Rest well, Ithaca. I'm sorry in advance for your hips tomorrow morning."

Scooping up the sleeping T-Doll, he staggered to his feet and limped the rest of the way to the bed. His intention had been to strip them both and cuddle, perhaps even have a midnight fuck once she recovered, but he had barely placed her on the bed when he passed out alongside her, their half-clothed bodies wrapped around each other like the most heartfelt of lovers.

The quiet chirping of the alarm woke him from slumber. His eyes snapped open, instantly zeroing in on the source of it, his discarded pants halfway across the suite. He spent a moment cursing his laziness for not gathering up his clothes before passing out, then remembered why he hadn't. In fact, he had two very large, soft reasons cupped in his hands that reminded him why.

Two soft, squishy, lovely reasons that ended in stiff, succulent nubs that grazed against his fingers in an altogether tempting manner.

At some point Ithaca had turned over in her sleep, and the pair had spooned overnight. Somehow his hands had wandered across her body, one underneath her and the other over, and now he held her breasts like two ripe, delicious fruits to whet his appetite. Her hair tickled his chin, somehow still smelling sweet and flowery despite his sweat and their enthusiastic sex. That tight ass pressed against his hips, his flaccid- shit, no longer flaccid cock squeezed between her thighs.

"Well this isn't terrible to wake up to," he muttered, availing himself to a teasing pinch of her erect nipples.

"Mmnnnn… mander…" Ithaca mumbled something in her sleep, and snuggled up deeper into his embrace. He held his breath as her thighs began to rub ever so slightly back and forth, responding to her dreams, and perhaps the subconscious knowledge that there was a cock between her legs.

Off in the distance, his phone alarm morphed into music. The high-intensity beat of a rock song blared through the suite, though Ithaca slept through it. It was almost amusing, but he knew Kalina would be knocking on his door any second now. He had to get up and meet his first trial-adjutant. That, and Ithaca should probably sneak out before too many people were up and about. He did not want her reputation to suffer from a walk of shame.

"Ithaca, we need to get up now."

"Mmph!" One of her hands groped blindly for his face, pushing his lips away from her ear. "Few more minutes."

So she was awake now, though stubbornly refusing to get up. He grinned softly, regretting that he could not enjoy those few more minutes in bed with the shapely Shotgun. Well, there was always an easy way to resolve this. He leaned back over her, placed a kiss on her ear that earned a coo of approval, then stuck his tongue in her ear.

"Ew! Ewewewew!"

Her whole body sprang to life, shoving away from him as she rolled to the far side of the bed. Her defensive move took her just too far, and with a startled squawk she tumbled over the side and thumped to the floor.

The clumsy gesture drew a chuckle from his lungs. Rising up to a sitting position, he shook his head and rubbed his neck experimentally. He felt none of the scratches from the night before, as he had expected not to. In that millisecond view of her rolling body he hadn't seen any on her either. They would both be able to keep this tryst under the radar.

"You're a meanie," Ithaca grumbled, pulling herself back onto the bed. He spent a moment admiring her hanging breasts, then shot her a wink and started climbing out of bed. The Shotgun dove across the sheets, wrapping him up from behind in a hug, and cheekily ran her hands across his chest. "Last night was amazing, Commander."

"So were you," he told her. She leaned her head out, and he accepted her pursed lips with a calm kiss. They smooched lazily, enjoying each other's bodies in the morning, before Ithaca pulled back and flopped onto the bed with a yawn.

"Aye yi yi, I feel like I had a whole train rammed through my legs. You're a piece of work, Commander. Go ahead and get going. I'll wait until the coast is clear before making my way back to the dorms."

"You'll be okay?" He had genuine concern for her. Her upper body was bruise-free, but her hips were definitely stiff, and she had a slight expression of discomfort on her face.

"Yeah, I'll just… mmm… smells like Commander." She shot him a saucy wink as she pulled the pillow he had used to her face and inhaled deeply.

"Take care, then. I'll just get sho-"

"Hey Commander! You weren't answering so I let myself in." Kalina's booming voice sounded far too chipper for this early in the morning. He froze, as did Ithaca, their eyes widening at the sound of the human logistics officer.

"Shit," he muttered, throwing his eyes back to the Shotgun. Ithaca stared back at him, at a loss.

They heard the refrigerator open, then close.

"Sheesh you need to fill up your pantry. Anyways, I made a change to your adjutant schedule," her voice carried clearly through the suite. "Since you were such a meanie to her yesterday, I thought this would be a good opportunity to mend your rela- Commander? Holy shit, is that blood? Commander! Commander!"

Her voice rose in urgency, and he heard two sets of pounding feet. Ithaca let out a silent gasp and turned this way and that, looking for a place to hide. He pulled up the sheets, throwing them over her, but before he could turn around he heard a gasp, and a pair of shadows flitted across the bed.

"C-Commander!?"

He did not need to turn around to see why Ithaca's whole face went bright, cherry red. Shrinking behind the sheets, the Shotgun shyly ducked her head and glanced at the wall.

Turning slowly, he faced Kalina's open-mouthed stare, and a distraught-looking DSR-50.