Warframe: Suiting Up
Story by Stories of Old and Far on SoFurry
Spoilers for those who've not played too far into the game. Haven't seen anybody touch much into this concept. Thought I'd give it a try.
He tapped his foot impatiently as he waited, standing over the foundry inside of his Orbiter's homey interior. Of course it wasn't his foot, not really, in some vague sense. The visage he piloted, a Warframe typically identified as Excalibur by its original creators, The Orokin, responded to every last one of his impulses to an absolute tee.
It had been several years now since his awakening. In the beginning, the Warframe he piloted had been all he had known. His will, his body, acting as one. But in the years following, revelations had since come to him in the form of both liberation and vulnerability.
Indeed, he could remember the early days when the illusion that what he piloted was nearly indestructible. Still learning the way of how the new world worked, he had made mistakes. Rather than pay for them with his life, he found that his body could always be reconstituted back at his Orbiter, no matter how grievous or painful of an injury he sustained.
And that was the illusion of course. In order to grant maximum synchronization, the Warframe he piloted had to feel as he felt. The heat of ballistics and sting of metal from Grineer soldiers tearing through his hide, sending lances of pain with it drove him to fight harder and faster. The rush of air in his leaps, the tug of gravity in his falls.
And that had been the key to it all, he had learned. The Somatic Link. A shared connection between his own mind and that of the shell he piloted. Without his mind, the shell was just that. A dimly aware suit of glistening armor. A superb masterwork of craftsmanship, but still a mindless golem.
And the revelation of vulnerability was that he was of flesh. Not of the techno-organic craft of a Warframe, but a body that could be damaged with relative ease, a vessel which could be destroyed permanently. What a revelation it had been for him. Doors had closed with it, and new ones had opened.
Such was today. A very, very new door indeed. It had taken him time to gather what he needed, and with some firm instance for the aid of his Cephalon to assist in making some modifications, here was the result finally arriving at his doorstep today.
The construction and modification of Warframe suits was nothing new to him. He had since acquired a sizeable arsenal to deal with many different types of problems, of which there were often many. But despite that, the trusty Excalibur model was the one he felt the most comfortable in. He always found himself returning to that particular body. Perhaps the other Tenno out there had their own preferences for how they fought. But today was an experiment. He wouldn't be using Excalibur today.
With anticipation he tapped on the controls of the foundry to verify everything, and turned to face another section of his Orbiter as his newly constructed project revealed itself in the central containment harness. The Orokin engineers had taken to calling the Warframe that stood awaiting his command “Mesa."
In an eye blink he transferred away from his suit, and stood with his own native body to admire the new sight before him. Lithe and graceful, but emanating a rugged strength. This model, “Mesa," was obviously built for the way of the gun. A polar opposite of the model he favored so, who was built primarily for the way of the blade. A few more steps around as he admired this new frame's physique and sculpting. Impressive indeed. He would certainly have to discover this one's talents later on trial runs. But for the time being, he had other plans for trial runs.
It had not been his idea originally, but word had eventually found him. With the revelation in years past at Lua about what the Tenno truly where, it had sent shockwaves round the new fledgling community. The Tenno had always had each other's backs. It was how they had survived in the past, and how they survived now.
Being so closely connected to one another brought with it varying bonds. The modification he had made today was the result of those bonds, and the discovery of something hidden by the Orokin, yet again.
Another eye blink, and his consciousness slipped into the newly completed dormant vessel that stood awaiting his command. Slender hands held themselves up as he inspected them, turning them over and flexing strange new fingers. He stumbled forwards to the floor on ornate heeled feet.
His vessel had no means of vocal communication. But his native body laughed. Heels would take some getting used to. For a time, he began practicing, slowly at first, pacing the hallways of his ship in slow strides, and then in confident limber struts as he mastered the balancing of this new body.
New balancing was quite an understatement. This was his first time piloting a female variant of a Warframe. He found his hips swaying far more pronounced than usual. His curious new hands found so much more weight to his backside in the form of a supple ass that conformed to his fingers and threatened to engulf them in soft synthetic flesh.
His chest heaved with extra weight in the form of sculpted breasts bound tightly under bright cloth wrap which he quickly had his attention on to examining before removing. They were as immaculately shaped and as supple as the curvature of his vessel's hips.
He smiled to himself. What remained of the Orokin painted them as artisans in every form. But he knew what they were under the golden, elegant veneer. Greed and vanity run rampant into a twistedly beautiful yet horrific legacy.
All this toying with the new body enticed a sudden growing state of arousal from him, and in kind before long, the vessel he piloted responded. It seemed that even the Orokin's veneer of strength in the engineering of a potent weapon had another side to it.
Black nipples hardened and a heat bloomed between the thighs of his vessel, slick and burning hot as his hands wandered to the delicate folds, brushing against sensitive synthetic skin that sent feedback waves through the Somatic Link that distorted his vision briefly.
That had felt incredibly good, in a strange way. The sensation of it wasn't like when he piloted a vessel and received damage. The feeling was separate. Like he was feeling both his own arousal and that of the new suit he piloted.
It drove his curious hands to more exploration, more rubbing and stroking as he fell to his knees, then onto his back onto the cold metal floor. Legs splayed wide, and fingers delved into soft depths that burned even hotter as he arched his back to feedback distortions of a pleasure he didn't know was possible.
Dark nipples ached to be handled, and with one free hand he attempted it, squeezing and tugging, writhing on the floor. He just wanted to scream from the rising heat that seeped into him. Heeled feet slipped and squirmed on the metal floor, shaking as legs bucked.
Fingers plied deeper, edging on the intense sensations as he was overcome with compulsion to use both hands, a slickness coating everything and beginning to pool incandescently on the metal floor plating.
His vessel couldn't huff in the divine frustration of seeking to sate the need, but he did, as the signal became distorted with static as he increased his efforts, delving deeper, stroking. The vessel's body shuddered, back arching, legs shaking, and in a burst of static as he wanted to scream from pleasure, he fell forwards at the floor as the link broke.
His own hands touched the metal deck plating, and he sat there for a time in his chamber, trying to regain composure as his Cephalon investigated, concerned. He waved it aside, assuring it that everything was fine. It was far more than fine. His own physical body was aroused now, and like some divine, devilish realization, he had a feverish idea.
Leaping to his feet in quick strides, he left his private chamber and found his newly constructed Warframe in the hall, frozen as she was before the Somatic Link had overloaded. Back arched, legs splayed wide open, presenting the cause for this curious state of affairs.
He flexed his fingers, pondering on his idea. With a terse command, he sent his Cephalon away to oversee other tasks for the time being, severing all channels. He didn't want to be interrupted for this.
Warframes were constructed from advanced Orokin engineering. They were not truly mechanical, nor biological. Such was the craftsmanship of his old masters. Without his mind to power the shell however, it was limited in its capacity to act on its own. But with even the touch of a finger, he could grant it life.
It didn't take him long to slip free of his own suit, leaving his body exposed to the cool air of his ship. But the arousal was still strong. On his own knees now, he lined himself up with the parted folds between the spread thighs of Mesa.
He pondered briefly what it would feel like. His own pleasure, and the rebounded feedback of the Warframe he was connected to. Only one way to find out. He pushed into the parted folds with a gasp, and Mesa sprang to life with his guiding hand.
Hands pulled at his shoulders, wrapping themselves round his neck forcefully, and thick thighs moved, her legs wrapping around his back, drawing him in to hilt inside of her. The connection fizzed with static and he could barely maintain it.
Her burning hot folds quenched down on him, and that pleasure alone had him on the ropes. But the feeling his Warframe was receiving was also being sent to him. The pleasure of being filled. Lust shrouded his mind and Mesa began acting as if she truly did have a will of her own, powerful legs urging him to fuck her, her hands grabbing his hips and forcing him to pull free before enticing him to impale her again.
His physical body was not used to such extensive contact or feeling, and in a matter of seconds a wave of pleasure shot through him, seed seeping into the hot depths of hungering synthetic flesh. The orgasm was rebounded at him from Mesa as he felt the rush of being filled with a warm sensation flooding into her core before seeping out onto the floor in little rivulets.
He collapsed onto her with huffed whimpers and gasps as his body was wracked with a newfound high. Her sculpted legs closed around his hips, locking him in place. He was hapless to remain there in the afterglow of something truly intoxicating.
After a time, he recovered, transferring into Mesa again. The sensation was perversely satisfying as he picked himself up from the floor. He wanted to enact this perverse act over again. But yet another idea formed in his mind.
He was going to pay a visit to a Relay with Mesa in tow.