STRESS RELIEF

“All clear...” Arana muttered into her comms.

“Maintain position until further notice. They might try to flank us,” a raspy female voice responded.

“Acknowledged.” Arana focused on the horizon for a few dozen seconds. Once it was apparent there was ‘ -all’ around, she discretely turned her comms to receiving only and let out a slight groan.

Hangover was brutal, especially when you had to hide it from superiors. Arana looked around, locating a building that looked slightly sturdier than the others and instantly parked her ass on top of it. It hated her for it, but thankfully not enough to collapse.

She took off her helmet and slowly massaged her head, trying to ease the hammering strikes pulsating through her skull. A few minutes of blessed peace, unspoiled by anything but rogue gusts of wind coupled with a handful of snow placed on her forehead helped... if just a bit. She felt almost well enough to actually consider performing her duties. Almost.

A single eyelid opened, the other too lazy to bother. She glanced at the horizon once more, deciding that she had done enough work for now. And since work was done, the time for pleasure and relaxation has come.

A canteen of what was only officially water appeared in front of her seemingly on its own.

“Aren’t you beautiful...” she whispered lovingly, a smile blooming on her face.

Arana took a swing, emptying half of the canteen at once. Stinges on her tongue, burning in her throat, vapours travelling up through the respiratory tract just to leave tiny clouds at her nostrils...Her headache was miraculously fixed.

“Armoured column, northeast,” a voice from her discarded helmet announced.

“Set up and wait,” the raspy voice commanded. “Better to engage over small distances. Activity to report? Scouts?”

Arana frantically grabbed her helmet, let out the air not to hiccup by accident and responded. “Everything...” She paused, before flicking the switch to broadcasting. “Nothing to report ma'am. Not even civilians.”

“Inform me if it changes. Otherwise, radio silent.”

She turned to receiving only and leaned back again, only for the building to finally yield and collapse under her. Luckily, no one was around to witness her fall, nor how high pitched her yelp of surprise was. As the dust was settling, she sneezed and considered if she could spare the willpower to stand up, or if sitting in rubble was acceptable... or at least less unacceptable than the alternatives.

The hypersensitive hungover senses informed her that the breaths she was taking did not completely align with the sounds... Her head snapped to the source, revealing a human practically glued to the wall inside the rubble. He – and she was pretty sure it was a he – let out a high-pitched squeak when her eyes focused on him. Arana slowly blinked and reached out for him, not even knowing why, which prompted the human to run to the doors leading deeper into the building. Another, more desperate scream left his throat when the doors proved to be locked. Arana grabbed him by his legs and pulled the screaming creature outside. A little grip adjustment later the man ended up snug in her palm... but was proving very unappreciative of it. Verbally unappreciative.

The noise made her headache to return in force.

“Shut up, okay?” she muffled him with her thumb.

The human struggled, fighting against her grip – which proved about as effective as expected. In the last-ditch effort he even tried to bite her thumb, but fortunately for both of them she was wearing thick combat gloves.

“Finished?” Arana asked, slightly amused, before bringing him closer to her nose.

She locked eyes with him, cross-eyeing to focus on his utterly terrified face. The struggling fit finally ended, leaving him just shaking instead. He closed his eyes when tears began rolling out of them, freezing completely before they could reach his chin.

Arana’s heart broke. All thoughts the alcohol was supposed to banish returned in an overwhelming wave that made her look away from the poor creature. Gathering the willpower to glance at him again took her a good moment.

“Sshhhh...” She gently caressed the fur on his head. “Everything will be...” She hiccupped, sending a cloud of pure alcoholic fumes at him. “... Everything will be fine.”

The human didn’t seem to grasp the message. Weird. Other captives seemed to understand her perfectly before...

“Scouts! Report!” her helmet barked again.

Her attention instantly shifted. She put the helmet on again and flipped the switch. “Nothing to report... Apart from the cold.”

“Same here.” came confirmation from another scout.

“Reposition 5 kilometers east. Check in every 5 minutes. Report anything unusual,” the sergeant commanded.

Arana took a deep breath and stood up, ruining whatever remained of the building in the process. Dusting off her pants made her remember there was someone in her hand. After a moment of dread, she forced herself to look at the contents of hand and sighed with relief when she found the human alive and merely dazed from the extreme vertigo she unwittingly subjected him to. But then, she hesitated. It was her first prisoner during the ‘war’ as she usually just ignored all the tiny creatures trying to run for their lives. She briefly considered letting it go but a quick glanced revealed that the building she had just trashed was the only one not in ruin... at least before she trashed it that is. Everything else was abandoned, their windows but a long-forgotten memory, with most of them bearing signs of bombardment that predated their invasion. He would freeze to death somewhere in this frozen hellscape.

Reluctantly, she opened her canteen and stuffed the miserable critter inside as was the protocol, hoping to all hells that it would survive that different kind of hell...

***

Another long day of work. Another day of looking at flat, frozen landscapes. Another long day of following orders. Another long day of murdering tiny, helpless creatures.

But no matter how long a day can be, it always comes to an end eventually. Sergeant finally dismissed them, and everyone slogged back to their tents.

“Hey Arana!” Aa familiar, cheerful voice chirped. A split second later, an arm landed around her shoulders. “How are you?”

Somewhat reluctantly, Arana turned her head and used whatever remained of her willpower not to flinch. “Oh... Hi.... I’m good... I think,” she sputtered, trying to withstand the gaze of the flamethrower operator.

Seeing her always activated Arana’s fight-or-flight response – with a strong preference for the latter. It wasn’t that she was mean or unpleasant – maybe it was something in her eyes, or demeanor, or how she carried herself... but Arana had an intense feeling of rapidly approaching doom whenever she got too close to her.

Or maybe it was just the fact that she was this cheerful despite torching people with a fucking flamethrower.

“We are having a night picnic at Shelus’s tent, if you want to join,” Andraste said with an almost cute smile.

“Ughhh...” Arana scratched her head anxiously. “Thanks, but I’ll pass.”

“Oh, come on girl!” Andraste pulled Arana’s head so that their foreheads were touching. “We have a lot of food, there will be games and...” she hesitated. “And we are missing one for a kiront. You know it needs four to play.”

“Andraste... I am flattered that you thought of me, but I’m so tired that I’m gonna fall over and sleep with my face in the dirt if you hold me here,” she replied almost honestly, trying not to avert her gaze... even if doing so wouldn’t be possible.

“And what if I told you we have a... ‘special’ kind of food? One that some consider both a stimulant and an aphrodisiac?”

Arana slowly blinked. “What is it?”

“Not telling!” Andraste replied cheerfully. “You wanna find out, you come find out yourself!” she finished with a tiny blep.

“... I MIGHT think about it...” Arana relented.

Andraste grinned and finally let her go. “Great! Just remember – no gatecrashing. Everyone brings something, so...”

Oh, so that’s what it was all about. Andraste didn’t want her at their ‘party’, she just counted on getting her hands on hooch.

“I do not think you realise how much I drink,” Arana said somberly.

Andraste looked at her for a few seconds, her eyes getting more intense by the second. Once it was almost melting through Arana’s skull, Andraste’s smile finally faltered.

“Pity. Good night then.” Andraste snapped, instantly dropping the act, before quickly walking away.

Arana took a deep breath, trying to calm down her heart, before resuming the stroll to her tent. She closed the entrance and collapsed onto her bedroll. Compared to the frost outside, the inside was almost pleasant – only the tips of her digits were threatening to fall off here. She turned onto her back and sighed, then began taking off her armour. Helmet, boots, breastplate, and everything else soon littered the ground in an un-artistic disorder. Stretching, she was finally able to appreciate the – admittedly limited – softness and comfort of the bedroll.

Her hand instinctively ventured into the corner, feeling for the hidden stash. There was but one bottle left. An empty one. Arana stared at it, desperately trying not to cry. Apparently, even she did not realise how much she drank. How was she going to endure who knows what for... however long the royal dipshits told her to? On this gods-forsaken ball of ice... She threw it away in frustration and slammed her face into the pathetic excuse for a pillow the Empire provided. Every day in the military was somehow worse than the last.

“I hope you’re happy, mom...” she muttered, dreaming that her bad mood would somehow reach and infect her mother who was probably busy yelling at fresh recruits thousands of lightyears away.

But then, a thought flickered in her exhausted mind. A tiny sliver of hope.

She dragged her discarded trousers, noting how regrettably strong they’ve smelled of her, and almost ripped out the canteen attached to the belt. She let out a crazy giggle, realising it was not completely empty. She took a sip, savoring the strong beverage, spreading it over her palate like a pretentious noble would an old wine. She lied down, overcome with bliss. But as she savoured it, a part of her mind warned her to restrain herself, to drink with moderation. It could last her for tomorrow that way... But a different part told her that it was tomorrow’s Arana’s problem.

She liked that second thought far more. The canteen’s treasure poured down her throat like liquid gold, leaving pleasant tickles on her tongue, reminding her of better days... before she became a murderer.

A small object fell out of the canteen and went straight up her throat, interrupting her daily self-pity session. She tried to gasp from surprise, but the thing choked her. A coughing fit combined with frantically beating her own chest followed, forcing the thing to the back of her mouth. Arana took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself, before reaching inside and pulling out the culprit.

And it was a... human. She dangled his completely limp body by an ankle before her face, trying to come to terms with what had just happened.

“Oh... right...” she sighed, finally remembering.

She gently placed him on her palm and carefully examined him. The man was limp, his limbs bent in weird, uncomfortable positions that made her grit her teeth and look away.

“Please don’t be dead...” she whispered, delicately pushing his limbs into more... appropriate angles.

Once he was lying straight, she maneuvered her hand to look at his face. At the lifeless visage with closed eyes and a tongue lolling out.

“Good fucking job, idiot...” she hissed at herself, swollen with guilt.

It was... It was just... No, it couldn’t be... Why? Why was he dead? She didn’t mean to, she just... forgot about him... And now, she was just as evil as the ones who sent her here... slaughtering tiny, defenseless creatures for absolutely no reason. A single tear rolled down her cheek. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

She scanned her tent for a passable spot and began gathering strength to go and dig him a grave... It was the only thing she could do at this point...

And then he coughed. Her eyes darted towards him and saw how he tried and failed to push himself up. Arana barely stopped herself from crushing the man from joy, instead just gently caressed his back... which didn’t aid his efforts in the slightest. Determined to help, she flipped him on his back and bent her fingers, forcing him to sit.

The first honest smile in months appeared on her face as she shakily exhaled. The torrents of air were what finally got his attention.

“Bawghaaha...” he laughed and blurted out some gibberish.

“...saur...” came a voice from her helmet.

She glanced at it and finally remembered what she was too hungover to in the morning – that their helmets had in-built translators. She grabbed it and put it against her head.

“What did you say?” she asked, cocking her head a little.

“Din...” He hickuped. “Dinosaur.” He pointed at her, laughed and tried to stand up, just to fall on his face.

Arana snickered, realising what was going on. The human was so wasted it impressed even her... Then again, she never spent the entire day swimming in hooch – the bingo card wasn’t complete just yet.

“Sure, I am a dinosaur... whatever that is.” she responded, gently patting his head.

The question now was – what was she going to do with him? The protocol expected them to hand over all captives to superiors, who would then place them in rodent cages... Which sounded about as fucked up as it looked in practice. It was weird, but she felt a strange sense of responsibility for the human and definitely did not want him to end up in a cage like an animal.

On top of that, there were rumours of captives disappearing from the cages at night... which combined with a rumour that humans were tasty made for a rather vivid image of what exactly was going on.

No, that was completely off the table. She just needed to find a place where he could sleep without being seen... and without him running away in the morning, which would just get him captured in best case scenario.

Now, there wasn’t exactly much in her tent and even less of it was useful. She could have just slept with him in her palm... but one near death experience was already enough and she wasn’t willing to bet on not rolling him over in her sleep. She could also stuff him into the empty bottle... or back into the now empty canteen... Maybe she shouldn’t do that.

There was but one passable place where she could safely store him for the night... Or rather, two places. She slowly lowered his limp body into her boot and put him at the front of it, safely hidden from prying eyes, and sheltered from the cold.

“Good night, little one...” she whispered, lying down on the bedroll again.

Falling asleep was a matter of minutes.

***

{{user}} scrambled when a horrific sound woke him up – something between a siren and a horn. He scrambled onto his feet and hit his head on the ceiling – it exploded in pain far greater than what the hit would suggest, which made him acutely aware of his mighty hungover.

Why he was hungover though was a mystery – one his aching head was unwilling to tackle, especially when it was still perplexed by the mysterious, all-encompassing scent. It wasn’t a stench but that’s where compliments ended – old, worn-out leather, with pickled dust and... mystery substances, for a lack of a better term... Wait... hold on... This wasn’t the factory he hid in! Where was...

Yesterday returned to him in small bits and pieces – and with every element, he grew more and more terrified. He remembered the alien monster capture and put him in a marinade... Wait, why was everything so leathery?! Was he already in the stomach?!

“Please God, please no please no no no no...”

Before he could run towards the light and check if the tube leading upwards was indeed a throat about to close... It closed. He let out a silent gasp and began hyperventilating. It was over. All his life ultimately amounted to... A little snack for an alien...

But to his surprise, something entered his leathery prison... and it genuinely surprised him. It was a foot. A huge, scaly foot with clawed toes slid forward, prompting him to scramble away... only to hit a wall of the toe compartment.

“No wai...” was all he managed to scream before the toes pinned him beneath them in an extremely tight crevice.

He tried to scream, but the toe pressed against his mouth easily muffled his voice into an unintelligible whimper and merely filled his mouth with a less than pleasant taste. His struggles went almost unnoticed, as the only response his captor gave him was a little wriggle that squished his body even more, nearly breaking his ribs in the process. A sudden vertigo left him dizzy for a second... before he accelerated in the opposite direction, hit the floor and felt the radically increased pressure from above... Before the cycle repeated, seemingly endlessly. He was stuck.

And snug like a bug.

***

“In short, the situation to the east is deteriorating fast. Hence, we are leaving skeleton crew here and sending the rest to reinforce our troops in the...” The sergeant checked her map again “...Ur-ral Mountains. And you got the honour to be said skeleton crew, so get ready for double shifts. Any questions?”

Angry grumbles erupted amongst the entire squad, save for her. Because Arana did have a question, just not one she would want to say out loud. It wouldn’t have mattered though, as it was a question... no, a complaint directed at one person specifically. Yesterday’s Arana.

Why was she so cruel to leave her with nothing to drink? Why didn’t she think of the poor today’s Arana? So greedy, so selfish? There was no answer – only a memory of the now distant happiness and a cruel smirk of yesterday’s Arana.

She clenched her fists tighter, trying to prevent her shaky hands from getting noticed. Withdrawal was a gigolo, and she didn’t have a way to run from it anymore. Or maybe she did? She could simply get addicted to something else – something that was available. Kill one thirst with another... and deal with the consequences later, as per her modus operandi.

“Departure in 5 minutes. Dismissed,” sergeant communicated, turned around, and walked away.

Arana finally sighed, but without relief. It was going to be one of those days... again. This was like, sixth ‘that day’ in a row, and she seriously began fearing that it meant that she didn’t have ‘those days’ but simply... ‘That life’.

Her shaky hands forced her to consider desperate measures. Maybe she should scrounge some of that ‘stimulating aphrodisiac’ from Andraste. It could work, and she really didn’t mind feeling a bit horny as a trade-off... Though she really, REALLY didn’t want to even get involved with, let alone owe her anything. But her organism – in a mindless scream of pure withdrawal – insisted it would be totally worth it.

Before she could spiral into self-pity, an errant thought informed her that something was nibbling on her toe. Not painfully, but enough to be irritating and...

Oh no. OH NO! She forgot about him AGAIN!

Arana glanced around to find the nearest restroom and then proceeded to... jump on one leg towards it, trying and failing not to bring attention to herself. Maybe he wasn’t dead yet... Maybe if she didn’t put her weight onto him everything would turn out fine...

She made it inside and closed the door behind her, before sitting down to take off her boot and retrieving the shivering man. He was intact, just a bit bruised.

“I am SO sorry.” Arana pressed her hand against her chest. “I forgot I put you there...” she said as sincerely as she could as the human tried to scramble away in her palm.

Once he reached its end, she caught him with her other hand to prevent him from falling down and brought the terrified man closer to her face.

“Do not worry, I am going to take care of you,” she whispered, trying to calm the critter.

Which surprisingly worked, even if just because he was simply too exhausted to panic at this point.

“I’m Arana. What is your name?” she asked, cocking her head slightly.

He took a few deep breaths, before looking up at her. “I-I... Why do I get what you’re saying?”

She tapped her helmet, which served as a good enough explanation for him.

“So, what your name is, little one?” Arana asked, putting on her boot again.

“I... It’s {{user}}...” he replied, visibly calming down once the abyss of her footwear stopped threatening him.

“Okay then {{user}}... Before anything... I’m sorry for your little misadventures. Those were accidents. I promise I will treat you better from now on.”

“T-treat me better? What do you mean by that?” he asked, getting visibly scared again.

“Well, you are my captive, so I am responsible for you for at least a while...”

“Just let me go!”

“And then what? You wander off into our camp, get captured and put in a cage?” she scoffed. “Or maybe someone steps on you and that’s that?” She shook her head “No. You stay with me. You listen to me. And everything turns out fine. Get it?”

All of it came out a bit too sternly for her liking, but it did get the message across. The man slowly nodded, an expression of defeat manifesting on his cute little face.

Arana smiled. “Excellent. Now I just...”

“PRIVATE ARANA?! ARE YOU THERE?! RESPOND IMMEDIETALY!” an angry voice of her sergeant came from the outside.

“Shit...” Arana scrambled and tried to make it look like she was actually using the restroom... But then she noticed a much more urgent problem. She didn’t have anywhere to hide {{user}}.

“I KNOW YOU ARE IN THERE! GET OUT NOW, IT’S AN ORDER!”

“I need a few seconds ma’am!” she blurted out and – in an act of desperation - stuffed the man under her shirt, before quickly opening the door and facing her furious superior.

“Private Arana reporting!” She saluted.

“Oh of course, of course...” sergeant mocked. “What were you doing here so long, huh? Everyone’s already gathered and ready to depart.”

“I just... had to take a dump, ma’am!”

“You are not fooling me. You were drinking again, weren’t you?” she gave her an inquisitive look.

“What?” Arana scoffed with fake offense “No, of course not! I...”

“If you say that you never drink on duty, you are doing fifty,” sergeant cut her off.

Arana hesitated and reluctantly nodded. “... I... I wasn’t drinking... I... I wish I had anything to drink, ma’am. I ran out a while ago.”

The sergeant squinted, clearly not believing a word that came out of her mouth. “Huff,” she ordered.

Arana followed, desperately hoping the fumes from yesterday diffused by now. And apparently, they did.

“Let’s say I believe you... Just this once,” sergeant muttered almost against herself. “Get your ass moving, we’re already late.”

Arana saluted again, before jogging towards the meeting point of her squad, feeling the human’s body squished between her chest and the breastplate. Hardly comfortable, but she struggled to come up with a safer place to store him. At the meeting point a bunch of tired and disgruntled gazes greeted her.

“Finally joined us, eh?” Kraton asked with a slightly mean tone and patted her on her back a little too forcefully for it to be just a friendly gesture.

Arana gave the big woman a weak smile... And realised something. The pats shifted {{user}} ever so slightly... causing him to lose static friction. Meaning he was slowly sliding down her chest now.

“Move out!” the sergeant barked, prompting the squad to depart in unison.

Their fast pace only exacerbated her... Well, {{user}}’s predicament.

***

Red scales. His entire world got reduced to red scales. Slightly coarse, leathery red scales pressing against him from one side... And the cold, composite armour from the other. That and the smell, which this time, was... weirdly pleasant. Almost unsettlingly so.

How... how did he end up here? Could someone explain what chain of events resulted in... this? The worst part was that the scales were moving. She was moving and quite quickly at that. With each step he felt himself sliding lower and lower, sometimes by a fraction of a millimeter, sometimes by a few centimeters, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t stop moving.

It took a while – maybe as long as an hour – but he finally arrived at a place where his legs were not as much squished against her as just dangling and flailing with each step. He did the only thing he could and dug his nails even deeper into the scales, but all it did was leave faintly whiteish vertical scratches on them...

Just about when he was making peace with his fate she stopped, leaving him dangling on a literal thread of friction.

{{user}} sighed with relief, but instantly tensed up when thick, guttural, and utterly incomprehensible words reverberated through his captor’s chest. It made him dizzy.

Just as he regained a sliver of hope, she tore it away but tapping on the outside of her armour. It was just barely enough to make him fall down. The cavern below him widened and the rigid chest made way for a significantly softer and squishier belly. By a complete miracle he managed to land on his feet. He stood on something rather stretchy... or elastic, judging by how it tried to launch him up in the air again. {{user}} managed to maintain balance by pressing his hands against her abdomen. There was quite a lot of plumpness on it, but at the same time, he felt undeniable muscles moving right under the layers of fat – a physique of a soldier, not jut for show.

He anxiously looked down and... realised he was standing on the elastic of her panties. In hindsight it was obvious, but the lack of belly button hid it for a second. His face adjusted its colour to fit in with the surrounding scales a bit better.

She started moving again, which turned his already precarious position into something akin to walking on a rope during a hurricane. Quite literally – the elastic waving back and forth resembled a rope more than anything else. He was flailing his arms, trying to find at least temporary support and was rewarded with getting smashed against her belly over and over again. The ordeal lasted about a minute, even if it felt like hours, but eventually, his fate was sealed.

A particularly big step followed by rapidly stopping threw him against her armour. He hit his head and lost balance while the elastic was pulling him back towards her, before he performed his best diving impression by falling headfirst inside her underwear.

***

No! Bad human! Naughty human! Ugly human! Don’t go... there! Arana’s mind was screaming at her prisoner who somehow found his way into her panties.

An exceedingly rare feat to be sure – so rare in fact that she would have been happy with this development... if it happened at a less unfortunate time. Certainly not during an attempt to ambush a Sthara scout squad.

She clenched her jaws, trying to focus on the approaching combat, before getting into position to set up her vantage point. Growing increasingly anxious about the situation developing under her armour, she tapped her codpiece, signaling the tiny man to stay put and don’t move.

***

Getting pressed against a womanhood bigger than himself was not on {{user}}’s bingo card. Here he was though – stuck next to huge, scaly lips with a faint impression of wetness and a scent that promised to turn men into gods.

Or maybe that was just his delusion. One way or another, it didn’t make much difference.

Starting to feel dizzy from blood flowing into his head he pushed against her flesh and rotated himself into a more comfortable position, with her panties becoming a weird form of hammock for him. His touch yielded very distinct results – her muscles tensed and she started... leaking a familiar, sticky substance, the droplets falling all around him, with the biggest accumulation appearing around his arms as he pushed against her to not get forced completely against her... private parts.

And then he heard it. Three taps from the outside. Three taps, each identical to the one that made him plummet in the first place. Three taps of... of...

Of encouragement.

Or maybe, of demand.

Suddenly her previous words flashed in his mind. Was this... how she was... ‘taking care’ of him? He pushed against her a bit harder, instinctively trying to distance himself from the... tempting offer...

No, what were those thoughts?! He was kidnapped and humiliated multiple times, he was NOT going to... to... enjoy this... huh...

More taps brought him back from daydreaming. It really was what she expected... It seemed that he didn’t really have a choice... Or at least that’s what he told himself as his hands penetrated the soft flesh.

***

Nononononono... Nonononono... Please little one just... please stay put...

Those were the only thoughts coherent enough to manifest. Arana took a deep, shaky breath and clenched her jaws in an attempt to stop herself from shaking. Valorous, but ultimately vain attempt – her aim didn’t improve one bit. A quiet whimper left her throat as the crosshair danced around the target, making a successful hit about as likely as winning on a slot machine. Her only chance was to dump the entire clip and pray they wouldn’t realise where it came from in time.

She kneeled and in doing so, pushed the human’s hands deeper into herself. This time she couldn’t stop a choky, desperate moan from escaping her.

“What was that? Everything okay?” the sergeant’s voice asked through the comms.

Arana braced herself and in a display of titanic self control produced semi-coherent words. “Y-yesss... Evvvverythinnng izzzz... f-f-fine.”

“Ancestors help me, YOU ARE DRUNK! I FUCKING KNEW IT!”

The final bit of fear pushed her over the edge. She fell forward and ended up on all four, with her rifle collecting snow.

“N-no ma’am... I just...” she hesitated, thinking about some bullshit to sell her. “M-my stomach hurts... f- ...” she groaned, faking pain. “I had to eat something yesterday... It’s killing me...”

A wave of sighs, complaints and grumbles from the squad rang in her ears.

“Silence!” the sergeant cut them off. “Bloody hell, why is it always something with you, girl?” A painful sigh of career choice regret assaulted her ears.

“I-I’m... ssorry...” Arana mumbled.

A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she felt the man separate from her, aided by a force of gravity. The sensations finally ended, leaving only a faint warmth as a parting gift. She looked up at her barely visible target and decided that... she could work with this. Sure, the position left much to be desired, but...

Arana rested her chest against the cold earth while keeping her butt high in the air, while her tail stood up like a pole. She braced her weapon and took aim. Her spine hated the angle, but a bit of pain was much more preferable to... other things.

“Ready to fire,” she announced.

“Finally,” Kraton scoffed.

“Shut up!” the sergeant cut her off. “Three... two... one... go!”

Blue flashes erupted around the valley as the entire squad opened at once. Arana’s shot found her target and before the poor cat could even react to its chest plate evaporating, sent another ball of plasma at it, melting its insides.

Scout squad was dead in seconds as the rest of her squad needed a bit more time to kill the rest. Godlike aim was about the only good thing about having a drill sergeant for a mother...

Arana sighed with relief and relaxed. Her hips slammed into the ground a split second before the information about why it was a bad idea made its way to her brain...

***

A bit of a break was nice. The panties made for a comfortable hammock – he could close his eyes and pretend to be somewhere else... Somewhere normal... Yes, he was camping in a nice... if a bit steamy place... with sticky rain... that smelled like...

No, it wasn’t working. The droplets of juices falling onto him were just too much for his brain to ignore, especially after one hit his face and permanently filled his nostrils with woman scent.

{{user}} opened his eyes and stared at the slit in the sky. It was pulsating as if trying to suckle on something that was no longer there and dropping sticky, salty tears every now and then as it failed to do so. The more he thought about it, the more confused he was. He didn’t even know that reptiles had the equivalent...

His thought process was interrupted by both the ground and the sky falling at once. His hammock hit the new ground... but the sky decided to fall a little bit further than the ground. Before he had any chance to react, the gates pressed against him, smothering him in a kiss that quickly transformed into a French one as he was forced through. In an instant the pulsating, hungering for him flesh surrounded him from all sides, while the gates closed behind him with an audible pop.

The pressure around him instantly increased as he was smashed flatly between the greedy walls. And boy were they greedy – the teasing he gave them before just enraged them and now they claimed all of him.

The pressure increased, with the soft flesh and juices forming an airtight seal around him. Suddenly feeling claustrophobic he pushed against them, which only seemed to infuriate them further. His boldness, his struggles... it was met with pulsating suction pulling him ever deeper into the womanhood.

***

Gods... Ancestors... Demons... Devils... Fucking anyone... Give her strength...

Arana was shaking uncontrollably with her mouth agape. The only reason why she didn’t let out the longest, neediest moan in history of womankind was because all sound died in her throat. It wasn’t even funny at this point – she basically shoved the man up her clit and it didn’t matter if it was an accident or not. The results were the same.

She lost control of her own body, though at this point it was unclear if she ever had any in the first place. She couldn’t unclench. Just could not. All commands were met with refusal, mutiny, and desertion.

Getting couped by her own body, Arana managed to roll onto her back, which made her stop wetting the ground and herself with juices... but also made {{user}} slide even deeper inside, thanks to the now aiding force of gravity.

The situation got stupidly out of hand and there was nothing she could do, since stripping right now was out of the question. Arana pushed herself up into a sitting position and placed a hand on her abdomen, taking shaky breaths as she felt a soreness sliding inside. Another moan escaped her mouth when he got dangerously close to her good spot.

“You good Ar?” Kraton’s voice echoed from the comms.

“Yes yes!” Arana responded hastily and turned off her transmitter. “Couldn’t be fucking better...” she whimpered to herself and bent in half.

“You don’t look like it,” came an unexpected response.

Her head snapped to her right in panic and witnessed Kraton’s towering silhouette. The woman was looking at her with something mildly resembling concern. Arana gathered her willpower and forced herself to stand up... or at least to something approaching an upright position, as her legs couldn’t decide if they wanted to spread or clench, instead rapidly oscillating between the two.

“You look like a mess...” the large woman commented, approaching her.

Arana tried to protest, but lost balance and almost tripped, with Kraton’s mighty chest in the way being the only reason why her face didn’t greet the dirt.

“Woah woah... At least take me out first,” Kraton snickered, holding her by the shoulder.

“Ughhh...” Arana grumbled and smashed her head against Kraton’s chest.

“You weren’t shot, were you?” she looked over Arana’s head to check for blood. “Then what... oh. What exactly did you take?”

Arana froze and glanced up at her once again stern expression. “N-nothing... I j-just hAAAAVVAAAAAAAA!” the word transformed into an incoherent, loud yelp as the tiny man braced himself against THE spot.

Kraton on her part got visibly cautious, as if expecting Arana to suddenly jump at her and eat her face like a stray grodon.

“Stomach...” Arana mumbled. “Hurts... I’m gonna... shit myself...”

A glint of understanding returned to Kraton’s face and she... actually hugged her. “What did you eat?”

“I...” Arana hesitated, thinking of something believable. “I think an expired c-can...”

“Yep, that would do it.” Kraton patted her on her back. “Those aren’t civilian labels – they don’t say when it MIGHT be expired, but when it ABSOLUTELY WILL be.”

Arana whimpered and cuddled into her, seeking a bit of comfort, just not for the reasons the woman thought. Kraton grabbed her under armpits and helped her straighten herself... which had the very unfortunate consequence of the human sliding even deeper with an audible slurp. At this point, he will probably have to be surgically removed...

‘Come girl. We will get you through today.”

***

How long was he in here? Hours? Days? It could have been decades, and he wouldn’t have felt the difference. Everything around him was the same. His world was entirely made out of pulsating walls playing with his body as they saw fit... And they had quite the imagination.

He was getting to the point where he wasn’t able to tell where his body ended and hers began. Hell, he was so drugged by the relentless assault of taste, the constant cacophony of scent that he was beginning to doubt if the outside world and his previous life weren’t just hallucinations.

Well, they might have been. It’s not like he was capable of checking that, as any strength to resist was but a distant memory – now he was just a limp puppet getting carried and pushed however the walls desired.

And yet in the strange eons of eternity even this came to an end, as he heard his captress collapse and start mumbling something to herself. And then it happened. Light. The sealed entrance of his prison was suddenly opened by a pair of clawed fingers. They got closer and closer, but the walls had other ideas. They tried to hide him, push him deeper... But lost. Fingers were too strong and once they got a hold on his leg, it was over.

He was pulled out in one swift motion with an audible shlick, his form leaving behind strands of sticky liquid as he dangled upside down in front of the great lizard. She eyed him as if unsure how to proceed... and then lowered him into a bowl of warm water and left him to drift on its surface.

***

Arana observed the tiny critter relax and wash himself with the soap she stole. Her day was hard, but it didn’t come close to his...

The only thing she could do right now was to compensate him at least a bit. First a bath, then some of her premium can, then she would give him a bed... made out of her sock... She wasn’t exactly working with a lot here.

She sighed and slightly adjusted her cross-sit, thinking over her apology to him once more.

Listen little one, I just wanted to say that...

“Can I get more soap, please?” he asked, breaking her train of thought.

She nodded and pressed on the dispenser, putting another load into the water. He began washing his fur for the fifth time in a row, which was slowly getting annoying. She just wanted to have it behind her... Did he always look so... nice?

She let out the air and chose to lay down on the bedroll to at least try cleaning her mind. That will be a hell of a story to share... if she makes it out alive. Rumours of the fleet getting shredded and the Empress being dead weren’t exactly uplifting.

She instinctively reached for the bottle and found it empty again. Yes, of course. How could she forget... Wait... yes, how COULD she? Because she clearly did forget. She spent an entire day without booze and... and... she... forgot about her withdrawal.

Remembering this, a slight tickle activated in her brain, happy to finally be recognised. The tickle of withdrawal. The thing was... that the feeling got almost completely crushed by another. By... carnal pleasure.

Her cheeks turned even redder than usual when the realisation hit. It had indeed distracted her more than enough to forget about alcohol. She was just that pathetic.

Her mother’s lectures about her needing a man... Her constant complaints Arana didn’t have anyone... Even her shaming... Admitting she was right about anything was heretical beyond measure, yet Arana couldn’t deny that she did feel better. Her body was relaxed and her brain was... relieved.

All of this birthed a new idea. A devious, ugly idea that was wrong on so many levels... But at the same time, tempting beyond measure. Tempting, because she knew it was her only chance of survival. Tempting, because of how easy it would be... and how gratifying at the same time. Permanently solving her problems just for...

” Little on... uhmmm... {{user}}.” She pushed herself up to look at him.

He stopped washing his armpits and looked at her towering form. “Y-yes?”

“I... I think we began on the wrong foot...” she glanced at her boot. “So to speak. I just...” she hesitated, knowing it was the last moment when she could still withdraw from the horrible idea. “I just wanted to tell you what is expected of you,” she continued, sealing their fates.

“Uhmm... Ex... Expected?” he asked cautiously.

“Yes.” She nodded. “What is expected. You see... When my kind encounters... small people... we make uhhh... use of them.”

He visibly shrunk under her gaze as she finished that sentence. Nevertheless, there was no going back now, she had to push deeper into bullshit.

“You see, our warriors... people like me...” She tapped her chest. “We get... stressed. Very stressed.” She nodded anxiously. “Because we fight and can die at any moment. So uhhh...” She licked her lips. “We... We take a small person and... And we put them in our armour... like I did with you....”

She could read a rising panic on his face. It stung. But the threat of withdrawal was stronger than remorse. “We call them... ‘relief buddies’... because you know, they... they help us with stress relief... at any place and at any time.”

“H-hold o-on...” He waved his hands. “You mean to tell me that... you want me to... to do... you?”

Putting it like that made her blush explode and colonise all previously uncharted corners of her face. She once again thanked for the blessing that was her scale colour.

“I mean... yes?” she whispered, turning away a little. “You will... sit there... and... and do it.”

He blinked as if the concept was frying his brain... To be fair, it was frying her brain too.

“Just... just remember when to do it, okay?” She forced herself to look at him. “When I tap, you start. I tap again and you stop. Okay? I almost died today because you didn’t stop when I told you.”

He simply stared at her incredulously without blinking.

“So yeah... You are now my relief buddy... Whether you like it or not!” she added just to sound tough.

“Do... do I have to?” he half-whimpered.

“Come on... it’s not so bad,” she retorted without a shred of conviction. “And think about it – I could have been a man, so you really got off easy.”

That last threat stopped any further complaints.

***

The end proved far closer than anyone expected. The very next day evacuation orders came, and the camp started disappearing.

Tent in one hand, rifle in the other and {{user}} in... his place, she boarded the escape shuttle after checking herself in with her ensign. Her luggage got stuffed under the bench, and she relaxed for the first time in months.

She did it, she survived her first campaign. Who cared that it was a spectacular failure? Certainly not her.

Looking around she got confirmation that she wasn’t the only one silently celebrating leaving that frozen hellscape. People weren’t exactly trying to hide it with their smirks and jovial chatter.

“Phew... finally done here...” Kraton commented, sitting next to her.

Arana nodded, not even trying to hide her smile anymore. “Yeah... I can’t wait to get home.”

“I’ll drink to that, pipsqueak.” Kraton bumped her in the arm.

"DAMN IT ALL! This planet can go to hell! We are getting out of here!" a scream of sheer frustration came from outside. Arana recognised the voice of her ensign.

A few seconds later Andraste strolled past them and took a seat deeper in the shuttle, to the visible discomfort of everyone around. This confirmed that Arana wasn’t crazy and there was something very wrong with that gal...

The shuttle doors closed, and they were lifted into the air, prompting the soldiers to begin cheering and applauding. Arana hesitated and tapped her codpiece to begin her own little celebration.

“So...Got any souvenirs?” Kraton asked.

Arana glanced at her, unsure if she saw through her. “N-no?”

“Pity. You should always take something from campaigns. Makes for better stories,” Kraton responded, before hesitating for a second. “Ah, what the hell, here.” She put a small, red bike in Arana’s hands.

“Oh... Wow. Thank you.” She smiled, inspecting the gift.

It looked like a model, but she knew it was a fully functional bike. Hell, she could smell oil and gasoline from it. She wasn’t exactly a fan of models, but... Maybe she could gift it to {{user}}? He’d probably love it.

“Don’t mention it shrimp. I’ve got a lot of cool things from there...” Kraton responded with a smirk, then crossed her legs and tapped her thigh.

Yeah... Me too.

Unbeknownst to Arana, she wasn’t the only one with interesting ideas. The shuttle carried more than triple the passengers it was designed to hold – the extras were just all meticulously hidden.

Some as foot warmers, some as tail warmers, some as ‘relief buddies’, some as thongs or piercings or...

***