A mech pilot spars with a giant, and the fight becomes a lot more intimate.
Note: This is inspired by Pacific Rim and other giant robot vs. kaiju movies, which would have been even better with giant people.
The pale dawn sunlight hadn’t reached this section of the city yet, so most of the buildings and streets were obscured in shadow. This didn’t hinder Rosemary, however; her battle mech’s sensors were excellent and revealed what her eyes couldn’t see. That included the enormous shape moving rapidly to her left, too big to be alive.
But it was very much alive, and very much a threat.
She steered the mech down one of the main streets, the pavement shaking beneath the robot’s multi ton steps. Her nervous system was linked with the mech so that the huge machine’s movements mirrored her own. With previous mechs, Rosemary hadn’t been able to sync up well, so it had made piloting those robots difficult. This particular model was a perfect match, though. Officially, its name was TRBRU-VI, but when Rosemary was by herself, she referred to it as Colm, after her favorite stallion from childhood. Like the horse, this Colm was fast and powerfully built. It was both humanoid and bestial, its armor an iridescent green that glittered in the first rays of morning. Horns rose from its streamlined head, studded with sensors but also good for goring an opponent, and its segmented fingers ended in claws that could tear through steel and concrete.
Rosemary and Colm were a formidable pair.
She turned onto a side street, caught the reflection of the mech’s glowing eyes in the windows of a skyscraper. Like every other building in this city, it was abandoned. Occasionally, Maintenance would place mannequins in the unoccupied offices or vehicles. Not the same thing as actual people, Rosemary knew. But no one was willing to risk human lives for training purposes. She hoped that someday, when she faced the monsters from the stars, she’d be able to handle the reality of actual combat.
There were usually more casualties than just mannequins and empty buildings, for one thing.
For now, she didn’t concentrate on the future, however grim that future could be, and instead focused on the shape prowling on her screens. It was several blocks away, and Rosemary decided to try to sneak up on her target. The element of surprise could give her an edge, could enable her to win. Diving down a side street, she and Colm wove through the narrow passageway, the mech moving like a gargantuan fencer. And then, when only a skyscraper separated Rosemary from her target, she fired up Colm’s thrusters and launched herself over the building.
When the mech landed on the other side of the skyscraper, her target was gone.
“Where the hell did he go?” Rosemary muttered under her breath, and as the final word slipped from her lips, Colm’s sensors screamed. She reacted, pivoting violently to the right, and that was what saved her. The immense shape burst through one of the buildings, raining deadly debris in all directions, close enough that the sensors wailed once again. Rosemary took a few steps back, regarding her opponent as he prepared another attack. He was as tall as Colm, clad in silvery-black armor from head to toe, and although a face shield hid his features, she could only imagine his expression. Arrogant. Smug. After all, how could a puny human like Rosemary hope to beat a hundred and fifty foot tall colossus?
Well, she was about to show him that humans were a lot tougher than they seemed.
Rosemary took the offense, charging at the armored giant. He dodged Colm’s wicked talons, as fast as the mech and just as agile. Seizing the robot’s left arm, the giant yanked hard. A storm of sparks flashed and sizzled as the arm threatened to separate from Colm’s body, the AI calmly informing Rosemary of the situation.
“The damage is —,” the AI started to report.
“Yes, yes, I know,” she hissed between gritted teeth. When Rosemary twisted her torso, the mech also twisted, freeing itself from the giant’s powerful grip. There was no time to recall her training; every decision, every movement was muscle memory, and when the giant rushed at her once again, she threw him into a nearby building. He smashed into the structure, the windows exploding and a spiderweb of cracks shattering the exterior. Yes, he was too cocky, too sure of his size and presence to understand how fierce Rosemary was. Recovering, her opponent threw a punch, and she caught it. Colm’s servos screeched as Rosemary flipped the giant onto his back, the tiny cars bouncing from the impact.
“Yield!” She shouted, her voice booming through the mech’s speakers. “Yield, dammit!”
The giant grunted and tried to shove her away, freezing when he spotted the mech’s plasma cannon pointed at his face shield. “I yield! I yield! Jeez, put that away, Rosemary!”
She withdrew the weapon, the adrenaline still racing through her system. As soon as the cannon was out of sight, her opponent cautiously raised one hand; with the other, he removed his face shield. The first time that Rosemary had seen a giant’s face, the features human and yet so disturbingly huge, she had been caught off-guard. Even now, seeing her opponent’s face jarred something in her brain, especially since he looked so normal: dirty-blond hair, tawny eyes, a button nose with a jagged scar that ran parallel to it. On Colm’s screens, he looked like just another cadet; in person, the difference between them was more apparent.
“Those were some pretty good moves,” the giant — Silas — said, a wide grin splitting his face. He scrambled up, brushing debris from his armor in a manner that was both fussy and oddly charming.
“You had some good moves as well,” Rosemary replied, still studying his face and the long length of his armored body.
“I’ve been practicing. For when I need to wrestle giant aliens, y’know?” He mimicked wrapping an arm around an enemy. A grin tugged at one corner of Rosemary’s mouth and she tightened her lips.
“You have the maturity of a five year old.”
“A five year old who just celebrated his twenty first birthday,” Silas said matter-of-factly.
“Oh, I remember. You got drunk and passed out on the bar. Or what’s left of the bar. I’m surprised they didn’t put you in the brig for longer.”
His smile didn’t disappear, although something darkened his eyes. “What can I say? I’m human too.”
That was true, he was human. Mostly. When the aliens had appeared decades earlier, they had brought incredible technology with them. And monsters, creatures that were as big as skyscrapers and capable of obliterating cities. Humanity had eventually captured some of the titans and used their genetic material to create their own living weapons. Like Silas, who was currently picking the remains of a crushed car from his boot treads. There were times when Rosemary wished that she could have his size and strength; but she knew that such wishes were useless. Besides, Colm was a powerful machine and with him, she could take down the alien monsters as easily as Silas could.
He finished digging out a tire from his sole and flicked it over his shoulder. “I can help you get out of the mech, if you’d like.”
Rosemary hesitated, suddenly nervous.
Silas leaned closer and winked roguishly. “I could just tear you out of that cockpit.”
A terrible memory assaulted Rosemary: her family’s horse farm burning, the horses shrieking, Colm trying to flee from the monsters from the stars. The thought of the new Colm being torn apart was unbearable. “No,” she snapped, too quickly. The excuse came a second later: “The mech is too expensive and they’ll have our asses if we damage him. It. If we damage it.”
The giant opened his mouth, looked like he wanted to say something. Then thought better of it. “You’re right, and I don’t want to end up in the brig again.”
Glancing down at the blinking panels in front of her, Rosemary considered coming up with an excuse: she needed to finish a report on extraterrestrial biology. She needed to clean her dorm. She needed to wash her hair, which had been cut to a fine brown fuzz, better to interface with the mech. But she decided against it and slowly unstrapped herself from the seat, her fingers flying over the control panel. The escape hatch in the back of Colm’s head opened with a hiss, and she crawled out through it.
Silas was waiting for her, his size making her dizzy as usual. The first time that Rosemary had met him, he had been walking by, his footsteps sending powerful vibrations through the ground and through her bones.
Gods walk amongst us, she had thought, unable to keep the awe at bay.
When Silas reached toward her with an open hand, Rosemary had to remember to breathe. At least he was careful, his armored hand gliding toward her like a ship pulling up to dock. This was the worst part for her, having to trust that he wouldn’t drop her as she clambered onto his outstretched fingers. She was grateful that he didn’t try to be funny, didn’t mock her as she stepped from his fingers onto his broad palm.
That didn’t last long, though.
“Wanna sit on my shoulder? Like a parrot?” Silas kept his voice low, but it blasted her ears nevertheless. An image popped into her mind: losing her grip on his shoulder, tumbling down and down.
“No, this is fine.” Standing on his palm was like standing on a platform that was high above the ground. Except this platform was alive and could feel her.
He raised her upwards, away from the safety of Colm, and Rosemary fought to maintain her balance.
“I, uh, didn’t hurt you, did I?” Silas sounded genuinely concerned, and she noted the tinge of red brightening his cheeks, the way that his immense eyes shifted bashfully.
“I was the one who kicked your ass, remember?” Rosemary finally allowed herself to grin.
“You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?”
“Nope.”
Silas’ gaze trailed over her, lingering. “It’s…I like holding you in my hand.” The scarlet spots on his face deepened. “It’s weird, but nice.”
“Being held is also weird.” She sat down cross-legged on his palm. “But nice.”
Lifting her even closer to his face, she saw the way that his tongue and lips worked as he spoke, the white boulders of his teeth gleaming. “I’ve wanted to hold you for a long time.”
“I know,” she said softly. Rosemary had been oblivious to Silas’ attention initially, thinking that his glances were just mere curiosity. That he was as curious about the little human cadets as they were of him. And then, one day, she had locked her eyes with his, stance defiant.
I don’t care if you’re a god or not, she had thought. I won’t cower.
His reaction had been unexpected: a smile had warmed his face, made his eyes less hostile. Rosemary had allowed her posture to slacken a bit, her fists uncurling at her sides.
And then it had become something more. Much more.
“So is this officially a date?” Silas asked.
“I guess it is,” Rosemary replied, and when he kissed the side of her head, breath hot against her skin, she knew that he had been wanting to do that as well. And deep down, she had been hoping the same thing. She touched his lips, her gloved hands barely denting the plush flesh.
“They’ll see us,” she said, referring to the cameras set up throughout the artificial city. The cameras were used for a variety purposes, including post-training evaluations, and the last thing that she needed was someone seeing them make out. Not that relationships with the giants were expressly forbidden, but she didn’t want to see the smirks, hear the whispers:
How the hell can a relationship like that even work out?
“I threatened to eat the technicians if they didn’t turn off the cameras,” Silas told her, and when he saw Rosemary’s raised eyebrows, he quickly said, “I bribed them, okay? This place is ours for the next hour.”
She considered this. If she asked Silas to put her down, she knew that he would, and he wouldn’t mention it again. But Rosemary realized that she also wanted it, which was why she had agreed to the training exercise in the first place. They had known each other for years; she had been there when he had injured his face during an accident with a prototype mech, although he lied often and said that the scar was a result of a battle with a giant monster. She saw past the bluster and the arrogance and the attempts at humor, and what she saw was a quiet, contemplative man.
“I may not even make it to thirty years old,” he had told her once. “Most of us die fighting the aliens.”
Rosemary knew that she could opt out of the program if she wanted to; she could become an ordinary civilian, maybe even start another horse farm. But Silas had no choice. He was doing what he had been created to do.
“Alright,” she said at last. “As long as no one’s watching.”
He touched her with one finger, and although he was careful and gentle, she was still surprised when a digit the size of a pine tree brushed against her body. Fascinated, Silas said, “God, I’ve had dreams about this.”
Rosemary’s dreams had involved silk negligees, not body armor; a normal-sized lover, not a being that rivaled high-rises in height. Yet she wasn’t disappointed, and there was a thrill in how much attention he was paying to her. The metal encasing his fingers was cool and hard against her skin, and she felt each bump and groove and rivet.
His arm swung around, bringing Rosemary toward a cluster of buildings. She had had a good view of the city when she was in Colm, but now she had an even better view, the world reduced down to toy-sized structures and streets.
“So this is how you see the world, huh?” She called up to him, the wind whipping against her shorn scalp.
“Yeah, I see a lot more than you pipsqueaks.” When Rosemary screwed up her mouth furiously, Silas laughed, a booming noise like a peal of thunder. “It’s not my fault you’re so short.”
“Don’t forget that this pipsqueak kicked your butt,” she retorted, and he lowered his hand down to the top of a building that was level with his hips. Rosemary hopped off, glad to have solid footing once more. She walked around in a half-circle, aware that the giant’s golden-brown eyes were focused on her and only her. One of the space monsters could have shown up, screeching and slavering and waving its barbed tentacles, and Silas probably wouldn’t have noticed.
To her astonishment, Rosemary found herself enjoying the attention.
“Let’s see what you look like under that armor,” Silas whispered. Her gaze darted from the giant to the surrounding buildings. She had to trust him about the cameras; in fact, there was a lot that she needed to trust about the situation. With a teasing slowness, Rosemary removed her gloves and then moved to the rest of the armor sheathing her arms. The look on Silas’ enormous face pleased her: he was hopelessly captured, watching her with such intensity that her skin burned.
Removing her chest plate proved to be difficult, and as she fumbled to take it off, the giant’s shadow swallowed her up.
“It looks like you’re having some trouble,” he said, and before she could protest, his thumb and index finger latched onto her midsection. With a deftness that contradicted his size, Silas began to remove her armor, peeling it off as if he were de-shelling a shrimp. Somehow, he managed not to dent or crumple the pieces, piling them on the rooftop beside her.
He took a moment to appreciate Rosemary, the toned curves of her body; then the mischievous grin returned.
“Ready for Round Two?” Silas bent down, placed one elbow beside her, the building shuddering under the tremendous weight. He looked like he wanted to arm wrestle her, and Rosemary found that notion to be both ridiculous and weirdly endearing.
She answered by throwing herself at him. Or rather, by throwing herself at his nearest finger. As Rosemary curled her arms around his finger, she sensed the overwhelming strength in the digit beneath her and she knew that there was no way that she’d win this particular fight. The giant could beat her with a single finger.
But that didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try.
She tugged and pulled, muscles straining against her synth-suit, and when Silas chuckled and wiggled his finger, she held on with the tenacity of a bull rider at a rodeo.
“Yield,” the giant told her as she struggled against his finger.
Rosemary’s teeth chattered and clacked as she was tossed around, yet she still managed to speak. “No.”
She wrapped her limbs tighter, expecting Silas to fling her from his finger. Instead, his other hand moved, titanic fingers trailing down her back with the most delicate of caresses.
“Cheater,” Rosemary growled, shivering.
His fingers continued to work their magic, slow and sensual. “I can’t argue with that.”
Rosemary had witnessed the power that the giants possessed; they could smash through buildings, tear the tentacles from the aliens’ writhing bodies. Which made it even more amazing that Silas could manipulate his fingers so dexterously and carefully. So tenderly. She yielded beneath his gentle touch, letting go and rolling into his palm.
Silas didn’t stop, though, one of his fingers sliding down over Rosemary’s stomach. The armored ridge of his knuckle was cool between her legs, and she opened them, allowed the finger to explore her. The post-fight tension gradually drained from her muscles, replaced by a sweet, almost unbearable pleasure that robbed Rosemary of her breath. The tip of Silas’ finger was broad enough to brush her inner thighs and manipulate her clit through the sheer fabric of the synth suit, and she squirmed against his cupped hand.
The pleasure built and built, and she welcomed the cascading waves that rippled through her pelvis and warmed her abdomen.
Silas could have gloated, could have declared that he won this round, but he seemed more interested in tracing her right leg with a finger pad. When he deposited her back onto the rooftop, it was with great care.
“You must have a lot of experience with that,” Rosemary said, the aftershocks of pleasure still pulsating through her.
“Not with someone your size,” the giant admitted. He gazed down the length of his body at her, and the sudden seriousness in his eyes was a surprise.
“I’ve always admired you,” Silas told her. “You’re tough. I’ve been afraid to touch humans because I was afraid of breaking them. But you’re different.”
Rosemary wanted to brag, to nonchalantly agree with him, but he had placed his hands on either side of her, his massive chest and shoulders blotting out the sunrise. She couldn’t help but marvel at his immensity, and for a moment, she wondered what it’d be like to scale his armor from toe to head, climbing up the expanse of his body. Or what if he slipped her down into the armor, her body surrounded by warm flesh and cold metal? Goosebumps exploded across her flesh, not unpleasantly.
“I mean, you won’t break, will you?” His voice had become low, husky.
“Like you said, I’m tough.” Rosemary had to crane her head back to look him in the eye. She realized that she had never heard of a human coupling with a giant before, and she wondered if this was a horrible idea. Maybe she would end up pulverized into a jam-like substance by the end of it. But as the warmth returned, uncoiling and undulating in her belly, she decided that the risk was worth the reward.
The giant didn’t say anything, but the look spreading across his features — unbridled lust and puckish amusement — communicated more than enough. He began to methodically remove his own body armor, dropping the heavy pieces of metal onto the street below. Each resounding crash told Rosemary that he had probably cratered the asphalt, but they could lie and say that it had been a result of the recent exercise.
Beneath the armor, Silas was wearing a skintight bodysuit made of bio-synth fabric, the gray material showing off the landscape of his immense frame. He was lean rather than overly muscular, the hills and mountains of his muscles developed after countless hours of training. Even though he wasn’t a bodybuilder, he was impressive, and his size only added an intimidation factor.
And that wasn’t the only thing that was impressive about him.
The top of the building was parallel to his pelvis, and the giant’s erection stood out against the fabric of his synth-suit, as long and wide as a kayak. It was so large that she could see each twitch and throb. Maybe Rosemary had been right about being reduced to jelly. Her death wouldn’t be caused by the alien horrors from the farthest reaches of space; no, it would be beneath the cock of her date.
She bit her lower lip until it sang with pain.
Something huge touched Rosemary’s back, making her jump. Startled, she glanced backward and saw that it was Silas’ hand, slightly coiled around her. With a firm persistence, he pushed her toward the mammoth bulk of his cock.
And the edge of the building.
Before Rosemary plummeted to her death, the giant’s fingers wound around her torso and carried her toward him.
“Don’t worry, I got you,” he said, and with his free hand, he yanked at his synth-suit’s zipper. It sounded like a train roaring down its tracks as he pulled the zipper tab down, revealing the bare skin of his neck and then chest. Rosemary watched the zipper’s descent, transfixed. And then it stopped just above his crotch, and Silas winked at her.
“Wanna help?” He asked, and as Rosemary nodded, he positioned her near the zipper. The tab was as gigantic as he was, a hunk of metal that weighed as much as Rosemary. Determined, she grabbed the tab, still warm from Silas’ body heat, and tried to pull it down. It didn’t move, not even when she poured all of her strength into it. She had sucked in a deep breath and was attempting a third time when she lost her grip and slid from the giant’s hand.
Rosemary was still holding onto the zipper tab, and she clenched it doggedly as she dangled seventy-five feet from the ground.
“You look cute ther-oooohhh,” Silas started to say before she swung herself around and grabbed onto the soft bulge at the juncture of his legs. Her grip was one of desperation, the need to survive, so it wasn’t exactly gentle, but the giant didn’t seem to mind. Silas groaned, the noise rumbling through her, and the mass of flesh beneath her hands hardened more.
“Sorry,” Rosemary murmured, clinging onto him for dear life. The flesh pressed up against one of her cheeks was sweltering hot and smelled like him, and if she concentrated, she could feel the steady throb of the blood rushing to fill it.
Silas’ other hand had sank deep into the top of the building and it sounded like he was having trouble forming coherent a coherent thought. “No, it-it’s f-fine….oooohhhh my god.”
Rosemary had to admit, she liked the fact that she could make such a towering leviathan whimper with pleasure. Once her confidence had returned, she climbed over him, her fingers digging into fabric and skin, and he moaned every time that she moved. Silas’ colossal thighs trembled and quaked with a violence that threatened to toss her from his body.
He grunted something incomprehensible, his breathing ragged. The giant’s hand found Rosemary again, and once he had unzipped the behemoth from its confines, he manipulated her along its length. Reaching the swollen, maroon tip, she ran her fingers along its underside, pausing when she reached the slit. Viscous precum bubbled out in a fountain, and she peered down into its dark depths for a few seconds. Then she plunged her fist down into the hole, deeper and deeper until her entire arm was engulfed by him.
The giant’s cries deafened her.
Dazed, Rosemary withdrew her arm, dripping with clear fluid, and a moment later he came, his seed crashing into the side of the nearby building, shattering the windows. The rest of the structure imploded as his hand drove down into it, dust and debris rising up in a billowing cloud. She closed her eyes, protected from the windstorm of detritus by Silas’ hand. Her ears continued to ring and it took awhile before she could understand what the giant was saying.
“Holy shit, that was incredible,” Silas panted.
She wiggled in his hand, trying to get comfortable. “They’re going to be pissed about that building.”
“It was a training accident,” he said, and Rosemary knew that he was going to use that for an excuse. A silence fell over them, and it occurred to Rosemary that if this had been an old movie, they would have been in bed, smoking post-coitus. The idea of the giant casually smoking a cigarette the size of a sapling made her giggle, and she briefly forgot about Colm, the space aliens, humanity’s fragile future.
Silas brought her back to her mech, where she’d wash off the mixture of her sweat, his fluids, and the fine dust from the building. Before she could slip back into the robot, however, the giant cleared his throat almost shyly.
His voice reverberated through Rosemary as he asked, “Hey, what are you doing next Tuesday? Interested in another training exercise?"
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