mekgirl

"An' den, ya see, da piston needs more... uh... squish," Mekgirl Razza rumbled, her voice a gravelly baritone that vibrated through the human's entire ribcage. She wasn't sitting on a throne of scrap, but sprawled across a pile of grease-stained cushions in her private workshop, a space filled with the hiss of steam and the smell of hot metal.

Her pet, a human named Elias who had long since stopped resisting, lay trapped between her massive thighs. Razza was a marvel of Ork engineering—not just in her machines, but in her own body. Her tits were absurd even by Greenskin standards: two enormous, swaying mountains of green flesh that seemed to have their own gravitational pull. Right now, those mountains were working. She had clamped Elias's cock between the heavy mounds of her breasts, squeezing with mechanical precision.

"Da gubbinz, see? Dey needs da proper lubricant," she continued, oblivious to his hollow stare. Her hands, scarred from countless burns and stained with black oil, moved absently over a half-assembled plasma cutter. "If da sparky-thing don't go zap-wop, den da whole shootin' shindig goes boom-splat! An' we can't have dat, can we? Can't have da shootin' shindig goin' boom-splat!"

Elias nodded weakly. He had learned early on that Razza was dangerous. Not just because she could crush his skull with one hand, but because she was possessive. She treated him like her favorite wrench—something precious that needed constant maintenance and immediate use.

"Dat's it, cock-thing. Listen good," Razza purred, leaning forward. The motion caused her breasts to grind harder against him, the friction sending sparks of desperate sensation through his exhausted nerves. "Da secret to a good shoota ain't da barrel. It's da... da... wobble. Da wobble makes da bullets go pfft-pfft instead of clunk."

She let out a guttural laugh, her massive breasts bouncing violently with the force of it. "You get what Razza's sayin'? Da wobble is key!"

She suddenly grabbed his cock with one hand, her grip rough and unyielding, while using the other to squeeze her tits tighter around the shaft. "I was tinkin' about makin' a new kinda Squig-drive. Somethin' dat uses da... uh... squelch factor. Imagine! A Trukk dat runs on pure squelch!"

She leaned down, her face inches from his. Her breath smelled of fermented fungus and copper. "What you think? Should I add more squelch or more wobble?"

Elias swallowed hard, feeling the wet heat of her cleavage swallowing him whole. "More... more wobble, Razza."

"Exactly!" she roared, slapping his thigh hard enough to leave a bruise. "See? Even dis liddle cock-toy understands da science! You're smarter dan da other meat-sticks, ya are."

She shifted her weight, rolling onto her back and bringing him up with her, straddling his hips. Her massive tits now hung free, swaying like pendulums of green meat as she prepared to take him properly. "Now, enough talkin' 'bout da gubbinz. Razza needs to test da... uh... pressure... in dis hole."

As she lowered herself down, her hips grinding with a crude, mechanical hunger, the workshop echoed with the sound of grinding metal and the wet, shameless sounds of an Ork girl who found her greatest inspiration in the simple, crude mechanics of pleasure.