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Purah watched as the mech settled into the maintenance mount, steam billowing from heat exhaust ports. Lines that had been taut with pressure released, active mobile deflection armor pivoted into a resting position, and weight left the hypermobile feet of the machine as it settled onto the hooks and gantries reaching in to support it. The mech sighed as it relaxed, and Purah heard the crackle of the radio comms as the pilot, unaware that he was still keyed on and broadcasting, sighed too.
"That good, huh Linky?" Purah chided, just in time to catch the frantic yelp from Link before he cut off the broadcast. Purah could always turn it back on remotely, but she preferred not to do that too often. If she did, Link might start watching for it, and then how would she discretely listen in while she did repairs with the neural interlink active?
The mech finished hissing, but the blinking blue and green lights of merged sheikah and zonai tech didn't go out. The twenty-foot-tall mech--known only as "The Sword"--was in a low-power mode, ready for Purah to work on it, but not entirely powered down. Link had indicated in the past that he preferred to be ready to fight at all times, so if he was not extracted from his machine, he would remain alert, with most of the sensory array active. This meant that he could sense and respond to any threat that approached, but it also meant that any interaction with the machine produced sensory feedback for him, either in the form of impulses down the neural connection, or in tactile feedback in any of the several dozen places the machine was in contact with his body.
So that meant that Link felt it when Purah grabbed at a loose bit of metal, wrenched outwards by an explosion, and even with the communicator keyed off Purah heard him yelp inside the cockpit.
"Oh Linky, breaking my mech again are we?" Purah muttered, as much to herself as to him. "At least tell me that this time it was an explosion from an enemy, and not just doing something stupid with your own weapons?"
The intercom keyed on long enough for a dismissive "hmph" from Link, enough to suffice as a "No, and stop asking." It had taken some time for Purah to properly learn how to read all of Link's responses, limited as they were, but she had learned enough to allow him to only force out full sentences when it was really important that he be heard.
"Time for a shield system flush, this is going to leave you a bit numb in your extremities," she yelled up to the cockpit, pretending for a moment that Link hadn't accidentally left himself broadcasting again. She reached for the ankle of the mech, letting her arm trail down the shimmering metal, and listened to Link as he sharply drew breath in at the softness of the touch. Purah let her fingers trail between two overlapped panels, her finger able to find and tease open the switch that was supposed to require a hard metal tool to open. Link sighed up in the cockpit, and Purah felt proud of the fact that she had found a way to complete this step in a way that didn't make the hero feel like a needle was being shoved into his ankle.
The panels parted, and Purah reached in to begin unscrewing the metal cap hidden beneath them. It was dented, and held fast in place, and she found herself bracing against the leg with her hip, thigh, and the side of her torso to get enough leverage to twist the cap free. The metal had cooled in the rains on the flight in, and she was suddenly aware of how warm her body might feel to the pilot who was receiving all of the mech's senses.
The cap finally budged, and she quickly unscrewed it entirely before turning to grab the hose that would attach to this port. She made sure to let her rear brush up against the mech; Link had no way of knowing from touch alone what part of her had come into contact with the metal, but Purah liked to think that he might guess correctly anyways. She moved to the far end of the hose, and threw the switch that would drain the plasmified fluids of the the shielding and ultrahand system, flush the system with hylian spring water, and pump replacement plasma back in. While this happened, the mech would be immobile.
Plenty of time to work on other things.
"'Kay Linky, time for an audiovisual sensory diagnostics check," Purah said happily, and Link scarcely had time to protest before Purah keyed in another command on her Purah Pad, and the glow around the cockpit went dark. Purah saw the twitching of actuators that would open the metal shields over the cockpit portholes, but the panels themselves refused to move. The whole mech was, after all, disabled. Link and The Sword were blind, paralyzed, and entirely at her mercy.
Linky has been fighting nonstop for weeks, Purah thought to herself, he's been such a good boy. He deserves a reward.
She put her Purah pad in the holster by the main diagnosis console, taking note of the fact that she had timed both the shield system flush and the sensory diagnostic perfectly: each showed a timer that ticked down from precisely thirty minutes remaining, at the moment she stepped away from her console and towards the mech once more.
It was usually hot in Faron, and in the mech bay it was hotter still. Purah unbuttoned her top and shrugged it off, tossing it to the bench she normally rested on between repair jobs. Her ascot, tights, and many of her accessories followed, and she strode over to the limp mech in little more than a tank top and a half skirt over shorts that clung to her thighs. It wasn't dignified, but Purah knew she wouldn't be giving any speeches or meeting any other rebel leaders like this. In fact, it was the middle of the night, so it was just her and Link.
And he was at her mercy, for at least half an hour.
"So Linky, anything you need me to take a look at, or get my hands on," she asked gently, walking in a circle around the mech to inspect it once more, letting her hand trail over battle scars and hasty repair jobs. His vision was blocked, but Link could still hear her, and the tactile feedback of the mech wasn't disabled. Any servos inside the cockpit were of Purah's own design and were independent to allow Link to disable them if they malfunctioned, so at the very least he would feel whatever she did, until he could find the button to disable it in the dark.
The comlink keyed on, and she heard him stutter, trying to manage a few words to describe a problem.
"You don't need to say it if it's hard," she reassured, "just use the indicator system."
A "hah" of acknowledgement came across the comms, and a moment later faint green and blue lights lit up along the back of the mech's legs, roughly where they met the base of the machine's torso. The mech wasn't quite Hylian shaped--one might say it was somewhere between the stout Gorons and a Cucco--but the anatomy was analogous enough that Purah knew roughly where the site would be on the pilot. She smiled, and stepped away to grab a ladder and some tools.
Ninety seconds later, she was on her ladder, and using assistance from Zonai tech to help move an enormous rubber and metal disk into position, something like a wax buffer. She looked at where the indicator lights had blinked, and saw that the metal skin of the mech was bent and warped, and between the armor panels she saw a tangle of lines that bubbled and flexed with trapped coolant and shield plasma.
She placed her tool against the metal and activated it, and it buzzed in a manner not unlike a smaller device she kept in a drawer next to her bed. The metal armor of the mech glowed slightly, and she reached out to touch it. The machine had worked perfectly, and she was able to bend the metal like putty without effort. She pulled at a few of the gaps between the metal armor plates, opening them just enough for her to maneuver her fingers inside and go to work.
Gently, slowly, she reached into one of the gaps and began to work deftly with practiced fingers, untangling and freeing lines so that they might relax. Each time she found one that was taut or kinked, she heard Link over the microphone, hissing in tension. This was followed by the thud of the interface, where his legs were buried in semi-solid gel and metal sheathes that both transmitted feedback from the mech, and translated his motions to be performed by the machine. She knew that the sensation felt like her fingers were slipping under the skin at the base of his thighs, and manually massaging knotted muscles and pinched nerves into compliance.
So, it was no surprise that, as she finished one area and watched the released tension flood down the line, Link unintentionally moaned in relief. Purah smiled, keyed off the transmission, and then keyed it back on as though it had just started.
"How does that feel Linky? Pretty good?"
A content and weak "hmm" of affirmation was the only reply that the hero would give when he knew he was being heard.
Purah waited for him to key off the transmission, and then moved to the other leg, performing the same massage and only keying the audio back on when she thought Link might have closed his eyes in relaxation. She was rewarded by the sound of his heavy breathing, followed by the smallest of pleasured moans.
Good boy, she thought for a second, as she put her tool to use, sending vibrations into the metal of the mech, turning the metal as soft as putty so that she could reshape it, an effect that could only be achieved with the shielding system drained. She moved the machine up and down the back of one thigh, and didn't let it leave the surface of the machine as she transitioned back and forth from one side to the other. Once she was content with the repairs to the legs, she made narrow circles with the metal softener between the legs, and up onto the rear curve of the power and weapons unit that hung below the machine's birdlike torso.
Link groaned in protest, which became a yelp as Purah's fingers began to massage the metal there as well, smoothing it out, pinching it to repair breaks, and sliding her fingertips across it in circles to form it back into shape. She worked at the armor around the underside weapons exhaust port, which caused the sound of a thud from inside the mech as Link jumped at her fingers teasing at both the rim and the inside of the port. There wasn't an official reason for this tactile transmission to exist, and in fact it only worked when the mech was in maintenance mode. Purah was certain that the other mechanics didn't know about it. Link moaned more openly now, but didn't key off the transmission.
Probably too distracted, Purah mused with satisfaction, so let's take advantage of that.
Her hands moved forward, reaching for the outline of the power units that fed the underbelly weapons, and massaged away the damage there too: scrapes from hitting terrain, warping from near misses, bits of shrapnel from too-close explosions. Those sensations wouldn't have been transmitted to the pilot with as much fidelity as what she did now, which she expected Link was thankful for. He was probably thankful for both sides of the coin, since she heard him breathing heavily as her hands dug into the machine-softened metal and massaged it, the hum of the liquid batteries within throbbing beneath her fingertips. Yet another interaction unnecessary to the mission, but one that Purah had put in for her own enjoyment.
Well, hers and Link's, based on the sounds coming from within the cockpit. The pair of power units wasn't strictly analogous the parts of Link's body receiving the sensation of her touch, but Purah doubted Link would complain any time soon. Few men did when the lower parts of their manhood was lavished with such loving attention.
"Want me to keep going Linky?" she asked, squeezing the metal there and then massaging it back out. Link yelped and moaned, but didn't give any indication that he wanted her to stop. Purah smiled to herself, and climbed down the ladder. As she checked the diagnostic report, she saw that she had a little over eighteen minutes left.
Plenty of time to perform a manual inspection of the underbelly weapons systems, she thought to herself, wheeling the ladder into place so she could climb up and work on the front half of the mech's underside.
She stared at the machinery before her, and pondered. There wasn't a good reason to perform a diagnostic and cleaning on the internal conduit bundle, other than that she wanted to. She hadn't done that with anyone in the mech before, and was leery about Link potentially blabbing about a feature she had secretly installed, even if he had to write it down to do so.
Why did I put it in at all, she mused, her grin growing, if not to give Linky a pleasant surprise and a nice reward for how hard he's been fighting?
She stepped down off the ladder and walked over to the main diagnostic console. Seventeen and a half minutes. She had wasted some time, but she suspected that she wouldn't need all of what remained to get what she wanted out of what came next. She tapped a command onto the console, and then her passcode, and there was the whirling of servos inside the mech. From the rounded cluster of weapons hung below the mech's body, a pair of panels slid apart, and a reinforced bundle of cables, wires, and tubes descended and extended forward. The bundle was about a three feet long, encased in a translucent blue gel, and looked far more like the anatomy whose name it was jokingly given than anyone had intended.
Purah smiled and strode over to the ladder, admiring the mechanical "cock-duit" for the entirety of her approach. As she climbed the ladder and came face-to-shaft with the extended part, she saw the blinking of tiny green lights under the blue gel. She reached up, and ran her fingers along the underside of the member, from the pulsing pair of power units at the base, to the faintly bulbous head, covered mostly with the blue gel layer but with the multi-function interlock port pushing out.
She heard the yelp of Link inside the mech as her fingers touched for the first time, and keyed on the commlink to hear his breath shudder as her pointer finger flicked off of the tip.
Link's lower body was in its own mount, to handle waste and record the movements of his hips. From the sound of things, the special sensory feedback systems Purah had installed were working perfectly. She kissed the tip of the mech's "cock", and was rewarded by the sound of a confused "hah?" from Link.
So, the extra sensitivity I programmed in is working.
She kissed the head of the cock again, trying to use her tongue to pull back the gel layer. She learned two things in an instant. Firstly, the gel, unlike an actual foreskin, wasn't pliable enough to be moved with a flicking tongue. Secondly, there was no way she was fitting this thing in any hole on her body, not without finding a way to at least triple her own size.
Instead, she reached up with both her hands, gripping the side of the appendage, and stroked down its length, and back up. She was rewarded with an eager huff from Link over the comms. She repeated the motion, letting herself moan as well as she did so, and she was surprised to look down and see the blinking light of an active connection.
"You really love this, don't you Linky?" she moaned over the comms, and didn't receive a verbal response. But she heard the creaking of the pilot's harness over the comms, and the whirring of detached servos inside the mech. She guessed that Link was fruitlessly bucking against the sensation of her hands, trying to get her to continue.
"You've earned this," she said with no small amount of hunger, and then she went to work.
By the time she heard Link begin to moan more loudly, she had worked up a sweat herself. She had wrapped an arm around the conduit and was sliding it up and down the length as fast as she could manage, watching the gel layer pulse and deform under her grip. She could hear--and practically feel--the pilot getting closer, and when he let loose a strained and feeble "hyaah..." she slowed her pace just enough to hear and savor the lewd sounds coming over the comms as he came. In time, she slowed to a stop, coated in sweat and satisfied.
She stepped down off of the ladder, listening to Link's shuddering breathing.
I'll have to see, she mused, if he has the same endurance with more direct contact.
She stepped out in front of the mech, and heard a chime from the console indicating that the sensory diagnostic was complete.
"Yoohoo, Linky, open your eyes!" she yelled cheerfully, and lifted her own shirt just as she knew Link was turning the visual sensors of the mech back on. The first thing he saw, after thirty minutes of darkness, was Purah flashing her tits with a mischievous grin.
"That's a special little treat, just for you Linky," she said, giggling at the sounds of surprise coming over the commlink, "and you'll get to play with them for real the next time you get back!"
Another chime from the console, and the mech jolted as movement was restored. Purah lowered her shirt reluctantly, and walked under the mech to unlatch the shield fluid exhange hose. After she did so, the shields pulsed and hummed to life, and Purah watched as the mech shivered in anticipation, a reflection of the state of its pilot.
"Okay, time to get out back there," Purah said, jogging a couple dozen paces away and pointing in the direction of the opening bay doors, "hurry on back, ya hear?"
Link, ever the dutiful hero, pivoted around and launched back into the steamy jungle air before Purah had a chance to mime spanking the mech's--but really Link's--rear to get it moving. A minute later, and she lost sight of the mech as it vanished over a distant plateau.
Purah walked over to the console and began checking various diagnostics on the mech, when her eyes were drawn to a breakdown of fluid emissions from the pilot, their approximate composition, and time of release. Highlighted at the bottom was an emission roughly around the time she had been "working on" the weapons and power conduit.
"Holy sh-"
Her head jerked up in shock, and she stared out of the bay doors in amazement, looking in the direction Link's mech had flown.
"If I'd known you were that pent up, Linky," she said to no one in particular, "I would have pulled you out of the mech and milked you with my bare hands!"