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Vanquish - Satellite Sexless	By : salarta Category: +S through Z > Vanquish Views: 1895 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Vanquish, its characters or any ideas or concepts contained herein. This story is a mere fan-made work, and I make no money or profit from its creation and dissemination.

Chapter List
- 1-Vanquish - Satellite Sexless
- 1
"Alright boys, I'm gonna take a break while you regroup. I'll check back with you in five."

Elena sighed, as she cut off the sounds of spastic gunfire and endless curse words streaming to her headset from the battleground. Eight hours straight of nothing but brain-frazzling intelligence work, sifting through the minutiae of weapon schematics and geographical data, models and numbers. Her expert analysis formed reports relayed to Sam Gideon and the other United States space marines in action.

She was alone. The voices of her allies teased her with their freedom, the freedom to meet and explore, their tight bonds of hand signals and microfacial expressions supplementing their informed discourse among bombs, lasers, rockets and bullets... while she operated in the "safe" zone. An outcast, a woman reduced from a person to a satellite, the feminine voice of a data center in orbit around the Earth.

She never thought she would stoop to this. On the fast track through DARPA, she thought her rigorous training would insulate her from the need for physical contact. Yet as the days wore on, she felt her identity as a person slip between her lips. Every day, she became her ship, her analytical systems, her headset.

Then, two months ago, it happened. On the one year anniversary of her exile to the fine line between Earth's atmosphere and the great black vastness of space beyond, she got the call. The one that, in her wildest dreams, taunted her with the danger of what her service meant for her place in the world.

---------------

"Hey Elena, thanks for the data on troop locations. You're a life saver," the marine, one of a nameless many on the front lines, said, his message relayed to her by her headpiece.

"That's what I'm here for." Elena smiled. Charting the man's vitals, she caught a suspicious dark spot on his uniform's integrated sensors. "You might want to get your arm checked after the mission. One of your sensors appears to be offline. I think some shrapnel might have caused a bit of damage."

"Thanks, I'll get it checked. Say, anyone ever tell ya you're hot?"

"I... umm..." A compliment. The first one she received for something other than pulling and sharing data from endless servers and databases for months. She stammered, her professional resolve crumbling to her weakened social defenses.

"Too bad you aren't real, I'd love to blow my load all over that smug face of yours."

"Excuse me?!"

"Hey Elena, do your programmers take commissions? I'd like to put one in to have a special pattern that shows your face covered in jizz. Nothing's hotter than a cocky little bitch trying to act professional while cum's dripping down her chin onto her small titties."

On her end of the line, Elena's face flushed from sun-deprived paleness to a burning red inferno of outrage... not that the soldier could see it, the tech used to transmit a view of her face stuck in shades of green. "Do you realize what you're saying?"

"Yeah, I'm saying I want to wipe that cocky look off your face by turning you into a cum dump."

"What you're doing is sexual harassment. Such behavior is punishable in military court under Article-"

"Aw yeah, and that fuckin voice too. All sex. I bet you'd have cock breath 24/7 if you were a real person."

"I AM a real person!" Elena shouted.

"If you're real then get in the kitchen and make me a fuckin' sandwich. And when you're done, fly on over here so I can stick my dick inside your slutty twat and use you up like a rag doll."

She glared at her screen. Rage boiled over, consuming her thoughts as she heard a firefight break out on the other end of the two-way comm link. She knew her duty, to aid the mission and ignore such bawdy behavior... but she couldn't let it slip. With a vicious, delighted grin, she tapped floating keys, swooped screens into her view and pressed the one button that would bring sweet revenge.

"OW OW OW HOLY FUCK OW MY BALLS." The man screamed into his microphone, his voice fizzling with static.

"You like that, big boy?" Elena taunted. "I just sent a shock to that pitiful stick you call a penis. And I do mean pitiful. I have all your measurements up on my screen and my god, how do you live with a two inch twig? Do you keep tweezers in your pocket?"

"What the fuck! AGH!"

"Now listen to me. I'm real. I'm a woman. I'm already trapped out in space for another year, I don't need misogynists and perverts making things worse by humiliating me for being a woman."

"Fine, fine, god damn, I'm sorry Elena. You're fuckin' touchy for an AI. Must be some new gender sensitivity bullshit from the brass." The man complained. "They should know better than to program shit like this into an AI, I was just fuckin around."

"I told you, I'm-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're a real woman, whatever."

---------------

The memory burned... but it reminded her of her place, a leper in the realm of romance and intimacy, forced by the vacuum of space to sate her wants and needs with her own two hands.

She unbuckled her belt. It dropped with all the grace of a rock, its containers and buckle smashing into the floor of her ship with a metallic thud. After months in exile, she was an expert in the art of undressing, as her light blue vest slipped through her arms and off her shoulders. She shimmied her denim skirt past her knees, left to bunch around her brown leather boots. Butt-bumping another projected panel, she finger-flicked a new button and gazed at the view on her screen.

Several angles, all set to one subject: herself. She ogled her own body, clad in a second skin of silver bodysuit, hugging her curves for the cameras. Dark red spots jutted over her nipples, her suit's thermal layers betraying her lust for the hot little number on display. She read her diagnostic data, from the rising digits of her genital temperature in Celsius to the latest real-time measurements of nipple erection in millimeters.

"Damn Elena, look at those numbers. You've broken new records on the hot and horny scale."

Her gaze traveled lower, to the growing wet spot of her loins. The color layers were a hazy puddle of rainbow hues, fanning from the hot crimson core of her sex to surrounding shades of green. She rubbed the damp spot, biting her lower lip as her suit slid over her tight, bulging cameltoe.

"Look at you, your pussy's all wet! You haven't needed to finger-bang yourself this bad in... a day! Better start masturbating, you won't get a chance to have sex with a real person for another six months and your pussy isn't going to fuck itself."

She unclipped the flap over her groin, the strip of suit left to hang between her wide-spread legs. Dripping, she caught her slick arousal in an open palm as she slipped a few delicate fingers into her snatch. A soft, girly grunt puffed from her lips into the frigid air of her base of operations. She blinked, tapping keys on her light-constructed keyboard.

"Oh yeah, I needed this sooo bad. Time to bring up the porn I made to help me get off faster." Waiting for her system to retrieve her video, she reflected on an idle thought. "Wow, I've become a girl nerd, haven't I? Living alone in a secluded womancave, spending all my time in front of computers, frigging myself twice a day to porn..."

A pleasant chime alerted her to the video on her display, paused where she left it during her last frigging session. "Oh Elena, only you would get turned on by an army of Sam Gideons banging you in every hole. You should be ashamed of yourself for spending your free time making something this naughty."

Grinning, she hit the play button. Moans paired with thrusts and gyrations, her porn star recreation of herself bouncing on Sam's dick. Her fake self's generously enhanced boobs, slick with the flowing spunk of her hot clone army of Sams, bounced wild with the rag doll physics of the wire frame model beneath its digital skin.

The real Elena, trapped in her ship, remembered the day she recorded the very same grunts and cries coming out of the fake Elena's mouth... and the extra flavor of a few choice recordings she picked up from Sam.

"Might as well put a big fuckin' spoiler on the damn thing!" the Sam plowing her from behind shouted.

"Have some juice!" Said another Sam, as he spurted into her platinum blonde hair.

The quotes were far from romantic... but that wasn't the goal. In her ship, the real Elena thrust her hips forward, her sopping arousal leaking down her shivering inner thighs as she plunged her fingers deeper into her sex. Her other hand groped her breast, as the peak of her nipple rubbed against her palm. She let out a low, frustrated growl as her boob refused her, the small bump slipping from her grip with every squeeze against the sleek layers of her suit.

"Fine, I get it, my boobs are tiny. Guess I'll have to settle for my huge ass again."

While the screen Elena enjoyed the blissful fun of having her nipples pinched and tits fondled, real Elena's hand slid over her side, clutching one of her gifted cheeks. She giggled when perfect timing spoiled her, back-end Sam in her video smacking her doppelganger's ass as the real Elena patted her own.

"Okay Elena," she told herself, "you've wasted enough time on foreplay. You're hot, you're horny and you're the only one for miles that can get you off. Let's show your pussy who's boss."

Her knees bent as she pumped faster, fiercer, misty white breath streaming from her pursed lips as her systems compensated for her rising body heat with cooler bursts of air through the ship's vents. Her heart pounded, the ship's systems recording beats per minute like every other piece of data. Beside this string of digits, she saw her last record for her shortest trek to orgasm. It was a time limit, a high score, and amid the lonely vacuum of space it was one of the few faint respites of fun left in her life.

"Do me Sam, fuck me raw!" The screen Elena screamed.

The real Elena ached with pleasure, her legs quaking under the pulsing pressure in her loins. She cusped the edge of climax. She needed that one little push, that one extra jolt to send her off to a land of sexual bliss.

And she received it. The ship's programs, the very ones she tweaked and manipulated every day of her life, responded to its readings of her body with a program specially designed by the girly nerd herself. The blue tint over her nipples faded, into a bright yellow warning of her naughty gift to come. The shock came swift and strong, electric currents coursing through her perky nipples.

"Oooooh, I'm cumming Sam, I'm cumming!" Elena cried.

Time froze for her, a dazzle of colors bursting in her eyes, pleasure rippling over her suit-clad skin. A sheen of sweat rose upon her face, her hair tufted into a wild mess of strands. She sank to the floor, knees pressed against metal as she rode out her hips bucking against her hand. Tired, panting, she hung her head lower, chest rising and falling as the rapid thump of her heart slowed. Removing her fingers from the sweet spot of her sex, she pulled herself up, stopped her porn video and reactivated her headset with the press of a few lit keys.

"Okay boys, I'm back. Anything exciting happen while I was on break?" With a flick of a button, they answered her with a cacophony of laughs. "What's so funny?"

"How much for a copy of your porno?" a marine said.

Color, what little that remained, drained from her face. Her arms paralyzed as her brain resisted all logic for the sake of her pride. "What?!"

"Great job Elena, it sounded like you really showed your pussy who's boss," another man quipped.

"I... I..."

"Cut it out men, what a girly nerd does with her free time is none of your business," the squad leader said. "Ms. Ivanova, remove your headset next time you want to spend a little quality time with your hand."

"Y-Yes sir..."
- 1
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Vanquish - Satellite Sexless