Ellen is becoming increasingly distant from her fellow humans, and 01 couldn’t care less. Later, he brings her along for a ride to the surface where she is forced into catching a glimpse of who and what Evengelion Unit 01 really is.
Sometimes her suite was just too lonely. No; Ellen wasn’t above acknowledging that she was starved for human interaction, even though her fellow homo sapiens were often petty, two-faced, and self-important. Six years ago, before the world almost ended the first time, she would have gone to a cafe or library to immerse herself in the undemanding company of strangers. It was her guess that post-impact Chicago – Chicago 3 – didn’t have such things anymore.
So the lounge and gym at Nerv often had to suffice.
Ellen had toughened up since she first met Unit 01, and was no longer afraid to show her face around the place. It wasn’t that people stopped treating her like a pariah, it was that she just no longer cared. As truly fucked up as it was, at least she could say that she had a friend; most of the sad bastards walking Nerv’s halls, even though they filled their social lives with talk and gossip, could barely say that much.
She’d started working out a month before. It was for a myriad of reasons, none of them particularly good: her spare time was plentiful and boredom reigned; it was addictive; she wanted to better keep up with him. (Even though he had more strength and endurance in a single finger than she could ever hope to have in her whole body.)
It was after 11 at night that evening – Ellen kept odd hours thanks in no small part to him as well – and the gym was empty aside from her. She had a pair of shitty headphones on and was listening to Anna Karenina on CD, otherwise listening to her own huffing and puffing on the treadmill would drive her nuts after a while.
Farther on, it was continually the same again and again: the same shaking and rattling, the same snow on the window, the same rapid transitions from steaming heat to cold, and back again to heat, the same passing glimpses of the same figures in the twilight, and the same voices, and Anna began to read and to understand what she read. Annushka was already dozing, the red bag on her lap, clutched by her broad hands, in gloves, of which one was torn. Anna Arkadyevna read and understood, but it was distasteful to her to read, that is, to follow the reflection of other people’s lives. She had too great a desire to live herself…
The audiobook, the thrum of the exercise machine, and the sound of her own footfalls on the plastic as she jogged made it so that she never heard someone enter the room through the door behind her.
The hero of the novel was already almost reaching his English happiness, a baronetcy and an estate, and Anna was feeling a desire to go with him to the estate, when she suddenly felt that he ought to feel ashamed, and that she was ashamed of the same thing. But what had he to be ashamed of? “What have I to be ashamed of?” she asked herself in injured surprise. She laid down the book and sank against the back of the chair, tightly gripping the paper cutter in both hands. There was nothing.
So, imagine her surprise when the treadmill next to her was suddenly occupied. Ellen started, almost letting the machine take her down. She grit her teeth at being caught so off-guard, and decided it would be a good time to slow to a walk for a few minutes anyway.
The young woman long ago learned that avoiding eye contact with everyone at Nerv would make life easier, and this was no exception, even though she could see the newcomer steal glances at her out of the corner of her eye. She swallowed hard and kept her eyes forward, trying her best to ignore the man. She made note of the fact that he’d chosen the spot next to her even though there were three other treadmills he could have used, and a few moments after realizing this, she decided that maybe it was time to head elsewhere.
“Do you wish to get out?” asked Annushka.
“Yes, I want a little air. It’s very hot in here.” And she opened the door. The driving snow and the wind rushed to meet her and struggled with her over the door. But she enjoyed the struggle.
Ellen stopped the treadmill and slipped off the headphones, putting the CD player into her gym bag and pulling out a small towel. As she wiped down her neck and face, she heard the man dismount his treadmill too.
“Not even a hello?” he asked, breaking the silence of the gym most spectacularly.
She started (again), and made eye contact with the man, breaking her own rule. She recognized him.
Ellen’s brows knit together as she looked up at him. “David?”
“So you haven’t forgotten your old life after all,” he scoffed, taking a seat next to her on the bench.
David Pasko, she recalled. Hired on full-time just after she got the internship, he was maybe only a year older than her. He was a software engineer from Oakland back in the day, recruited by Nerv for being one of the few Bay Area programmers the world had left. They needed the frontier spirit of Silicon Valley for the Evangelion project… or that’s what bullshit the recruiter had told them, at least.
“How… how are you?”
He scooted in a little closer. “Fine, more or less. Better than you, I hear.”
Ah, yes. This was why she avoided the land of the living. “I’m doing fine, thanks,” Ellen muttered.
“Tell me… what’s it like?”
She shot him a look, not liking where this was going. “What’s what like?”
“Being with that thing.”
“It’s my job, okay?” she hissed, shoving the towel into the bag and zipping it up. “I clock in, clock out, get paid. Same as you.”
“I don’t think so,” he replied, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ve seen the security tapes,” he said in a low voice. “We all have.”
Ellen’s heart raced and heat rushed to her cheeks. “Fuck you, Pasko. I don’t have time for this.” She stood up, gathering her things, and made for the door, but David was quick to block her way. He was a pretty big guy; a true brogrammer. A Giants baseball cap threw his eyes into shadow, but that didn’t hide the fact that he was sweating. Why? He spent maybe 2 minutes on the machine… oh.
Oh fuck me.
“It’s pretty fuckin’ obvious that you’re enjoying yourself,” he murmured, taking a step forward and forcing her to take one step back. “Hits all the right buttons for you, doesn’t it?”
“What do you want from me?” It was barely a question; more of a demand. Ellen was staring daggers at him but was momentarily surprised when her back hit a wall.
He slowly placed his hands on either side of her, blocking her in. “Just thought I’d come and give you something I thought you might miss.” He leaned in closer, lips hovering above hers. She shut her eyes. “Gonna pound that pussy of yours raw, slut. He can’t do that, can he?”
David ground his hips into hers, pressing his hard-on into her belly.
“You know what else he can’t do,” she whispered, glancing at the stains under his shirt sleeves. “Reek like BO.”
Ellen reached up and tried to shove him away with all her might, but she didn’t push hard enough. “You ungrateful little bitch,” he snarled, grabbing her by the arm and bringing her close to him again. She struggled with every muscle she knew how to use, but it wasn’t long before he’d tackled her to the ground with him on top. “Didn’t you know? You can’t rape a whore.”
She screamed at the top of her lungs, fighting to free her hands from his. A knee roughly slid up between her thighs, and his other free hand was working on yanking down her exercise pants. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” she snapped, fighting to free her hips from his legs as he undid his pants with a shaking hand.
Just then her pager started to go off. Ellen didn’t care to wonder why, but that sound inspired her to start yelling for help. Some tiny bit of her was hoping that maybe he would hear; maybe his massive hand would come crashing through the ceiling, and–
David’s clammy hand covered her mouth. “Shut up!”
Ellen wasn’t having any of that, and for now, she knew she had to save herself. She sunk her teeth into the meat of his hand as hard as she could, and he screamed. Blood ran down her chin and just as she was about to kick him off her he struck first: his uninjured hand sailed across her face so hard that she saw stars.
At some point the pager had stopped going off.
Through the blinding pain in her head Ellen continued to fight him, and it seemed he would too, even with a not insignificant chunk of his hand needing to be stitched back together. Pasko roared to life, and his good hand shot out at her neck, squeezing as hard as he could. She kicked at him, lashed out toward his face. She couldn’t reach it. Ellen’s head began to tingle, and her limbs fell to the floor as her strength left her. Just as it got too hard to keep her eyes open…
…the gym’s door burst open and three marines ran in, guns drawn. “Get off her! Now!”
David’s hand flew away from her like he’d touched a hot stove, leaving Ellen to take a deep, labored breath and start coughing. Two of the marines ran over to him and hoisted him up, each one with an arm. The third rushed over to her and caught her by the elbow. “Ma’am, are you alright?”
It was a few seconds before she could grind out an answer.
“I… think so…” was all she could wheeze.
“We’re getting you to the infirmary.”
“No, no… I want to… take me to wherever Unit 01 is. Please.”
“Ma’am, you need to go to–”
“No. He’s going to be pissed if I don’t show up.” Ellen swallowed, steadying herself against the marine, still remembering how to breathe. Sure, he was going to be pissed, but truthfully, the last thing she wanted was to get poked and prodded by a nurse who didn’t care whether she showed up with a pulse or not.
She stole a glance at her assailant as they all were all escorted out of the gym.
“Your ‘boss’ can’t protect you forever, slut,” he hissed. “He’s gonna get taken out someday, and then you’ll have nothing.”
“That’s enough, sir.”
The walk to the LCL chamber seemed to take forever. The marine let her hold onto him, but not a word was spoken until they got there. The locks slid open and the faint smell of blood filled her nose– it was almost a comforting scent anymore. The marine, she noticed, covered his face.
“Where the hell were you?” His voice echoed like thunder through the space.
“I… he…” she stammered.
“You, get out of here,” 01 commanded the marine.
“Yes, sir.” He disappeared, shutting the lock behind him.
Ellen braced herself against a piece of machinery and clutched the side of her head. The giant lifted his hand out of the liquid and set it gently beside her on the causeway. She switched to the side of his palm for stability, but couldn’t bring herself to climb in.
“I asked you a question, kid,” he rumbled. There was some kind of knowing in his voice, but she wasn’t sure of what sort.
“I was… I was assaulted, sir.”
Ellen looked up at him and their eyes met, but he said nothing for a few moments.
“What’s his name?”
She couldn’t help but rub her face at this, biting her lip as she pictured his face again. “Pasko,” she murmured. “David Pasko. I knew him once upon a time.” The titan flattened his palm so that she could climb up onto his fingers instead of up the side of his palm, which was a bit tougher. Ellen stepped on and he lifted her only once she was seated.
He lifted his other arm, bringing his wrist close to his mouth.
“Security,” he said into it, not taking his eyes off her. “Bring Pasko here. I’d like to have a little chat.”
“No!” she blurted out.
Ellen heard a distant crackling voice: “Ack…nowledged, sir.”
01 lowered his arm and shot her a dangerous look. “No?”
She covered her face. “I don’t… I don’t want him to see me. Not here.”
“That’s not your decision to make, now is it?”
Her heart sunk, and she collapsed into a ball in his hand with a groan. He closed his fingers around her in response, softly enclosing her in the folds of his glove, and bringing his loose fist to rest on his opposite arm as they waited.
And they didn’t have to wait long.
The two marines from earlier brought him in, leading him over to the causeway. Ellen peered out at him from the gaps between 01’s fingers and shuddered. They must have yanked him out of sick bay; he’d managed to get his hand wrapped up.
“You two can leave. Come back in 15 minutes.”
Unit 01 considered him for a few moments once the three of them were alone; she could hear his long, drawn exhales rushing out of his nose. Ellen squinted down at Pasko from her hiding place in the giant’s hand; it was obvious that he was petrified.
“I heard that you’ve assaulted my assistant,” Unit 01 said at length.
She heard a noise escape him; something like a broken squeak, or something like that. His body was wound up so tight that she was surprised he didn’t explode into ribbons.
The hulking cyborg sat upright in the pool with a roar of sloshing LCL. Pasko cried out in terror.
“Did you or didn’t you, human?”
“S-she w-w-was… I…”
The Eva’s eyes narrowed, and he slammed the palm of his free hand down onto the causeway next to him. The metal groaned under the force. “Did you or didn’t you?”
Pasko was a mess now. He was crying, thrown to the floor by the force of his own terror, and shielding his face. “Yes, sir! I d-did, sir!” he blubbered.
Unit 01 sat back again, having gotten his confession. “Good.” His voice was so low that she could feel it vibrate the air around her. “Now I think it’s time we taught you a lesson: nobody gets off on rape around here but me.”
Lesson? What lesson?
The Eva stood up on his knees in the pool, hips aligned with the causeway. Talk about deja vu. He was even wearing his armor this time too, and it was a strangely familiar sight to see him take off his groin-cover and set it aside. He lifted Ellen up to his shoulder, then, speaking as he deposited her beside the brilliant orange panels of his neck: “I don’t normally give a shit about justice, but when I do, it looks like this.”
“What are you… what are you going to do to me??” Pasko demanded from 70 feet below.
Both of 01’s hands were now free to undo the clasps at his bulging crotch, letting the length of his gargantuan member spring out next to the hapless programmer.
“Why, I’m gonna put the fear of god in you, kiddo.”
A slight smile tugged at the corner of Ellen’s mouth. She distantly realized that the Ellen of 8 months ago – hell, maybe even the Ellen of yesterday – would have been horrified to watch what was about to take place. But not now.
The Eva had clearly been straining against the suit since he first knew what he wanted to do with Ellen’s assailant. It wasn’t every day that he got fresh meat, and it definitely wasn’t every day that they deserved whatever he had in mind for them.
Pasko was cursing to himself, she was sure, and when he tried to get away from the massive cock, 01 growled at him to stay put.
He made quick work of himself, pumping at the head of his member with one hand and grabbing his balls with the other. Ellen could feel the thick cabling of his neck strain under her feet, could see his chest rising and falling under his chin, hips swaying far below her.
Just then, he reached out and knocked Pasko to the floor and pinned his legs down. He hit the walkway with a cry, but the Eva barely gave him half a second to recover before he pushed the head of his swollen cock down onto his chest. Ellen watched, with horror, glee, and arousal, as his shaft pulsed and shook; waves of thick, sticky come exploded all over the young man, covering his chest and face, drowning out his shrieks of terror. She could only see the side of his face, but Unit 01’s mouth was twisted into a wicked smile, teeth ground together as Pasko flailed under the weight of the Evangelion’s cock head.
He slowly milked himself from base to tip, making sure every last drop – or gallon, in his case – ended up on the young man. “Ain’t so fun after all, now is it? You tiny, pathetic animal,” he ground out.
At last Unit 01 lifted himself away, and the young software engineer scrambled to wipe the spunk from his face. He sputtered and gasped for breath.
But the Eva wasn’t done yet. “Get up,” he boomed. Pasko slowly, shakily, did as he was told. And before Ellen had any idea of what the giant was planning next, he lifted his hand, and with a flick of his middle finger, sent the man sailing backwards and into the LCL. The young woman stifled a gasp.
He settled back down into the pool, arms folded across his broad, armored chest.
“You just broke, like, all of his ribs.”
“Probably,” the cyborg grunted.
She swallowed. “He’s going to drown in there.”
He turned his massive head slightly to the side so that he could look at her out of the corner of his eye. “And why do you care all of a sudden?”
Ellen lowered her gaze down to the three holes on his breastplate below her. “I don’t.”
“It’s impossible to drown in LCL anyway.”
Right. How could I forget? The stuff was gross and strange because it was so like amniotic fluid.
“They’re going to have to fish him out…”
“Nah, I will. I can feel the idiot failing around by my knee.”
She cleared her throat and did a little squirming of her own. Was she really getting off on this? On seeing him fuck with other people so casually? Did it just… reinforce her… Fuck it. Like it even mattered anymore.
“What’s it feel like?” Ellen sat down on his shoulder, knees drawn up, very aware of the feeling of his neck rippling under her bottom, feet braced against the swell of his collarbone. He cocked a brow.
“Feels good,” he said, low, quiet, and with that fucked up grin of his.
A shudder flew down her spine and a pleasant tingle spread between her thighs.
The door flew open then, and the marines entered. Ellen saw them look around for Pasko, and then their gazes hesitatingly lifted up to the Evangelion.
“W-where is he, sir?”
01 reached over them – they ducked and covered their heads – and plunged his hand into the LCL beyond the catwalk to fish out a pretty critically injured Pasko. The purple-gloved titan unceremoniously dropped the man onto the decking, where he proceeded to cough and sputter out all the pink-red liquid that he could, gasping for air and crying out in agonizing pain as he did.
“Might want to get him to sick bay again,” Unit 01 lazily recommended while returning his arms to his chest. “I think I’m stronger than I realize,” he lilted dangerously.
The marines said nothing as they dragged a moaning Pasko away. The Eva chuckled.
He lifted his hand up to her when they were gone, and she slid into it, her head suddenly remembering that it, too, wasn’t doing so well. Unit 01 seemed to notice her change in posture, and brought her up to eye level. He put a finger under her chin, startling her, and her gaze was lifted towards his. Unnerving. It was always unnerving.
She parted her lips to possibly say something, but nothing came out, so she licked them instead, and let out a ragged breath as he seemed to examine her face. It only took a moment for his icy stare to get the better of her, and she closed her eyes. She heard him make a faint sound deep in his chest. He turned her head gently from side to side, then removed his finger.
“He got you good, didn’t he?”
“Shut up,” Ellen muttered.
His enormous face drew nearer, though, and she caught his mouth open just before closing her eyes again. The small, young woman prepared for his tongue, expecting it to glide over her like a hot, heavy blanket of muscle. But instead, all he did was lick her face with the pointed tip. The side that Pasko had hit, actually, and cleaning up the dried blood from where she’d bitten his hand. Tender was the first word that came to mind; not that that meant anything, because if anyone else she ever knew had decided to show tenderness by licking someone else’s blood off her face, then she might want them sent to the loony bin. Okay, maybe soothing was a better word. Surely something could be both soothing and deranged at the same time?
Ellen’s eyes were still closed, and to her surprise, she reached up to touch the side of his tongue… almost as if it was the face of a more conventional lover.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
She wasn’t sure if he could hear such a quiet request, but the god-like behemoth that held her in his cupped hand seemed nigh-omniscient sometimes. He looked like a 13 story human; she saw the plugs in his skin and the slick black plating along his spine, and it was still sometimes difficult to remember that their similarities didn’t go much further than appearances. Only a small handful of people knew what faint sounds his superhuman ears could detect.
Wordlessly, the hardness of his tongue softened, and pressed more fully against her. His tastebuds, each perhaps the size of the very tip of her pinky finger, caught on her exercise top, tugging it upward. Her skin was wet where his tongue had passed. Soft gusts periodically exploded down from his nostrils. Ellen counted them: it took about 20 seconds for the giant to fill his lungs, and a little more than that to expel a single breath. When he was fully relaxed, breathing took him minutes.
“I don’t intend to,” he murmured in response.
Ah, so he could hear a pin drop.
He drew his tongue back, but for just a second– in a moment it was on her again, dripping with his hot, thick, saliva. A glob oozed down over her shoulder, soaking through her tank top. And he covered her again. Pushed her down into his hand, slowly, carefully, head resting between the cleft formed where his ring and middle fingers met. The seam, thick, triple-bound, and bonded not with thread but alloy, bothered her ear; but it was only just another reminder of how big he really was. For a moment, Ellen allowed herself to marvel at the feats of engineering that went into making a garment that wouldn’t shred at his merest curl of his digit. This glove – this suit – had to contain a body that defied physics, and an appetite for destruction that defied logic.
His tongue was on her like molten iron. She would have likened it to having a mind of its own, but she knew better; this massive being was in complete control over every inch of his body. She wouldn’t have been surprised to find that he was conscious of his every blood cell.
She made a little noise. The Evangelion closed his eyes, pressing his nose into his fingers just above her head as he continued. She allowed her eyes to close as well, letting go.
“Take your clothes off,” he rumbled against her, lips dragging across her chest and thighs as he spoke.
Ellen nodded against his lip and reached down to peel off her exercise shorts, taking her underwear with them. The giant deftly reached in between his hand and his face to take the tiny garment away, doing the same after she’d pushed the top up and over her head.
She let out a breathy moan when that slick muscle slid down her body and forced her thighs apart. Ellen reached out for something to hold on to, and her hands found the curve of his upper lip, dotted with coarse stubble.
Far off in the distance she heard movement in the LCL, but there was no way for her to see beyond his face and his hand.
His tongue stroked and undulated against her, pressing, pushing, sliding…
Ellen spread her legs as far as they would go, and she strained her hips against that throbbing muscle—yes, she could feel that deep, powerful pulse through it—and in no time, she was coming. Quiet and breathy, she convulsed in his hand like a quivering mouse, chest heaving with every breath.
Ellen laid there, panting and hugging herself.
“Fuck,” she breathed after a moment. She covered her face. “I don’t want to go back out there.”
His arching brow was almost audible.
“I’m done with people,” the little woman continued. “Fuck em. Let them all get blown the fuck away in the next impact.”
“And where would you go, then?” His voice was a low thunder.
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do.”
She sucked in a breath and screwed up her face.
“Spit it out, kid.”
“I wish I could just stay here with you, alright?!” Ellen shouted from behind her hands. “Just disappear into the LCL and never be seen again.”
Ellen opened both eyes and peered up at him when she felt the hand she laid in descend. His eyes were cool; lazy, almost. But the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth betrayed the fact that he was enjoying this candid moment more than not.
“Not while you’ve got a job to do,” was his rumbling reply as he continued to lower her down to the surface of the pool.
Splosh. Ellen was gently dumped into the LCL before him. Treading water, she looked at the mountain of a man before her, the sweeping, dangerous lines of his armor rising up out of the lake of amniotic fluid like coiling snakes. The splashes of neon along his thick forearms and neck were not unlike a reptilian warning: Be careful, I’m deadly. No poison there, though; just fists.
He shifted; she could feel the eddies deep under her as his thighs lifted and settled, hear the sound of his hands bracing against the floor of the pool, the sight of his belly obscure her entire field of vision. Something came up to greet her nearby, though; she could feel it push her away as it rose through the LCL. The pillar of flesh rose up above the surface, the bulbous head at eye-level with her.
It glistened under the harsh light, bobbing back and forth a little. She had to work just to stay within arm’s reach of it. After a moment of peering sheepishly at the Eva’s giant cock head, Ellen lurched forward and grabbed hold of the hot skin and held on.
He let out a long sigh above her. She looked up, met his gaze for a moment, and looked away; he said nothing. Just sat there, breathing, staring at her with his arms folded across that great chest of his. What, no games? No demands? Well… a demand, yes.
The tiny woman gathered the courage to bring herself closer, so that her chest and belly pressed against the underside of his shaft, legs wrapping around it to the best of their ability. Using the lip of his foreskin she hoisted herself up further and, swallowing, began to explore under the fold of skin there.
He was hot. Literally. She began to sweat just from being in contact with the sensitive organ for more than a few seconds. It throbbed under her with every slow, powerful, heartbeat, and it was almost as if she could hear the blood rushing through the member’s veins.
Ellen paused when he began to move again– but he was just moving his arms above and behind his head. LCL rained down on her as he raised them up.
“Keep going,” he grunted before closing his eyes.
So she did.
Ellen continued to explore this most sensitive of body parts; stroking, rubbing her breasts against him, petting. It was almost addictive, touching so massive a being in so tiny a spot and not only have him feel it, but respond. Oh god… the way his dick jerked up towards him whenever she felt around his frenulum. The way his breath faintly hitched when she kneaded it in her palm!
If having a dick in her meant that she couldn’t have this, whatever this even was, then she didn’t want it. The kind of sex that Pasko represented… it was laughable. Empty. Two evenly matched bodies mindlessly undulating against each other, blindly grasping at some kind of mutual stupification.
Tab A into Slot B.
A deep rumbling sigh dragged her out of her thoughts, and Ellen looked up just in time to watch his lips and teeth slightly part. He made another sound, long and low.
What was he thinking about? Maybe he was topside, buried balls-deep in the 6th floor of an apartment building, fucking it literally to pieces, his ears filled with the horrified screams of whoever was unlucky enough to still be inside. And maybe, with one especially powerful thrust, he sends the building toppling to the ground around his massive cock– covered with a fine layer of white drywall dust.
Or maybe she’s in that building. Maybe it’s her building. Maybe he somehow finds her suite, smaller than a shoebox and just as drab, and pushes in through the balcony doors. Maybe he says something about her not being able to hide from him forever and then fills the air with a cacophonous, terrifying laugh. Maybe his limousine of a shaft is just long enough to push her up against the back wall of her studio before he begins to slide out and plunge back in…
Now she was really on fire.
Ellen found herself slowly, minutely gyrating against his length, trying to press as much of her cunt against him as she could manage. Even if she couldn’t get off on that alone, at least then she could feel the enormity of him.
“You should know better than that,” came the Eva’s husky voice from high above her. Ellen froze and lowered herself further into the LCL as if to… hide?? He had just a single green eye open, heavy lidded. He scrutinized her lazily.
“Y-yes sir,” she whimpered, trembling from being denied her climax.
Ellen hoisted herself back up onto him and continued her work. She palmed at that sensitive spot under the head that got her such an exquisite reaction from him before, and wasn’t disappointed this time either.
Without taking her hand off his frenulum, she lowered her head down to the swollen purple slit before her and started tracing around it with her tongue.
“Yeah,” he breathed.
She stuck all four of her fingers down into his cock and gave them a wiggle as she continued to lick and kiss around the edges. The tiny human was rewarded with a sudden jerk and she could feel the shaft under her swell just that much more. Hot, thick precum oozed up and out of the hole, covering her arm and dribbling down her neck. She picked up speed.
In no time at all Ellen could hear the giant’s breath hasten, and she was expecting him to take over the final moments before he blew his load as he usually did… but that didn’t happen.
Squeezing, rubbing, and licking as fast as her little body could move, she wound up bringing him to orgasm all by herself, and the only warning she got was a loud, breathy groan.
But this was his second climax in less than an hour. His cock jerked and throbbed—fuck she could FEEL the waves of semen getting pumped up his member!–and out sputtered a gush of sticky come. There wasn’t as much of it as usual, but still several gallons’ worth. Most of it landed in the LCL, lingering in gooey swirls of white in the body of watery red.
01 went flaccid almost immediately, his flesh disappearing down into the pool, leaving her to tread again. After a moment of calm relaxation, he ran a gloved hand through his hair then reached down to put himself away. The massive cyborg reached for her then, and brought her to his chest, not breaking eye contact.
“You come when I say you can come,” he said.
He nodded at her just the tiniest bit. “Now you can come.”
Heat rose to Ellen’s cheeks as she laid herself down in his palm again, back against the fabric of his glove. God, she was halfway there just from hearing those words.
But he stopped her. “Do it like you were doing before.” The corners of his mouth twisted up and he lowered his voice. “Do it how you do it at home when you think about me.”
Blood continued to rush to her belly and she chewed her lip, looking around at his hand. The Evangelion likely sensed her trepidation and held out the finger of his other hand, which she grasped with her tiny hands as she turned over to her side, legs straddling the single digit. Ellen began to move.
The movements were slow and small as she quietly humped his finger, clutching it tightly to her, burying her face in the folds of his knuckle. But it wasn’t long before she started to quicken her pace.
“That’s it…” she heard him rumble from above her; there was a dark sort of encouragement in his voice. “I want to see your tiny little orgasm… show me what you look like when you’re alone…”
The human, so small in his gigantic hands, felt the heat pool in her belly. She let his words fill her entire existence, hanging onto his every powerful breath… and before long, she came.
Ellen held on even tighter, squeezing with her trembling thighs as her cunt pulsed against the side of his finger. She went rigid against him.
“Hn– hah– hh–”
Little cries, little breaths, little creature.
“Atta girl.” It came out like a dangerous sigh.
He withdrew his finger, and as she saw out of the corner of her bleary eyes, he sucked on the spot where she’d been.
Ellen was exhausted and felt herself slipping into twilight, but not before he raised the bulk of his hand up to his shoulder, to deposit her in her usual spot. She was trembling jelly on him – exhausted – as she settled down for a rough night.
“You’ll go to sick bay in the morning,” was his cool command.
The tiny human nodded against him, gingerly touching her swollen face.
“And you’ll eat something.”
Care? Not really – just a reminder that she had an obligation to her body. And her body had an obligation to him. And yet, so strangely comforting. He was still technically looking out for her after all, even though his motives were not altruistic.
Altruism was overrated anyways.
“Thank you,” she whispered when the lights went out.
He just chuckled. “Watch it, kid. The day you get too comfortable is the day I lose interest.”
Previously, she would have trembled at those words. But not anymore. Her fear and awe were what was keeping her alive – and that, at least, she had in spades.