Editing Commissar Techpriestess love story (section)

=== Chapter 14 ===
A moment later, and he was over her once more, his powerful arms either side of her chest,
“Please, no more waiting,” she begged, her mechadendrites wrapping around his arms and chest, her eyes bright in the commissars shadow,
“As you wish, M’lady,” He said, somewhere between a whisper and a growl, gently guiding his massive self into his petite lover. Her hips bucked, as Octavia whimpered, her body crying out in a chorus of pleasure and pain. A concerned look crossed the commissar’s face, as he slowed his thrust, but Octavia just fanned her face with a hand, “Keep going, for the love of the machine, keep going,” She moaned. The husky commissar slowly moved his hips forward, before stopping, and slowly moving back, his petite lover gasping in pleasure. He repeated the movement, just as slowly, again, and again and again. Underneath him, Octavia writhed, her mechadendrites pulling against him, her augmented limbs cold against his warm chest and hips. He began to build up speed, his thrusts becoming harder, Octavia whimpering as he drove into her. She alternated between fanning her face and covering her mouth, her eyes going wide as she gasped and moaned. A metal hand grabbed at Rogal’s jacket and balled, scrunching the thick wool as Octavia blushed. Her Cognitor watched in rapt fascination at her body’s reaction, her augmented heart pounding in her reinforced chest, her upgraded lungs pushed to their limits as they tried to suck as much oxygen as they could from the air. Her potential coil surged, powering these extreme reactions, as her fleshbrain bucked and whooped. Rogal could feel every hair on his body stand, and watched with awe as small sparks seemed to dance around his lover’s neck. Her electoos venting excess power as safely as the could, Octavia let out a breathy moan, her fleshbrain finally finding something to say, “Please,”
Rogal knew she had said something, but hadn’t quite heard, “Beg pardon?”

“Please,” Octavia whimpered again, her mechadendrites tightening around the commissars body, “Just there, yes, please, oh please, oh yes,” Her cognitor’s conceptual face went pale, as it noticed a bar rising. Her fleshbrain continued to focus on one thing and one thing only, enjoying itself. Mechadendrites clenched in time with the commissar’s thrusts, as he continued to drive into the petite priestess relentlessly. Her electoos sparked, sending small shocks into her lover, her hands buried in his hair and his jacket that hung down around her like curtains on a four post bed. The bar grew higher, nearing the end, as her cognitor hunkered down in a secure part of her mind. Her fleshbrain thrashed along with her body, throwing itself this way and that, its metaphorical mechadendrites and hands running all over its body. The Commissar started thrusting faster, the bar tipped, and began flashing, her mechadendrites tightening, she bit into the commissars shoulder, muffling a loud moan, as her potential coil reached full capacitance and shorted, a loud crack tearing the air. Rogal’s body seized as the shock kicked through him, leaping from his back to the glowglobe and blowing it. The glowglobe blew as his lascannon discharged, his hips bucking with the recoil. He let out a grunt, collapsing to his elbows, his huge chest heaving as he rested atop his lover. Octavia was mute, her mechadendrites spasming slightly, her chest rising and falling in deep breaths. The tent was filled with the smell of ozone, as Rogal managed to collect his thoughts enough to say something,
“Wow,” He said, his mind still fuzzy, as he shook his head,
“Wow,” he repeated, his mind still not having found anything else worth saying.
Octavia just nodded, her mechadendrites now lazily dropping from around the commissar to help vent heat away from her body.

Octavia fanned herself with a hand, as Rogal gently dipped his head to her neck once more, kissing the electoo there gently, before lifting himself from atop her. Carefully, he withdrew his weapon, Octavia moaning despite herself as he did, before gingerly removing the casing from around it. He threw it to the bin, and pulled his trousers up, before collapsing into his chair. His bare chest glistened with sweat in the diffuse light from the skylight, as he sucked in great lungfuls of air. His guest continued to stare at the blown glowglobe above her, relishing the cool air on her skin, and the immense feeling of satisfaction that pervaded her body. Propping herself up on her arms, she looked at the husky commissar, who smiled back at her tiredly. 
“Wow,” he said, again, still not finding any other words, his guest just nodded.
“I haven’t done that in a while,” Octavia said, a mechadendrite reaching over to the pile of her clothing and grabbing her top. Gingerly, she pushed herself up to sitting, using her other mechadendrites to support her, her flesh still weak from the exertion. Her top replaced, the mechadendrite quested out for her undergarments, when the huge commissar forced himself to his feet.
“Move over,” He said, his voice low and commanding. Her fleshbrain responded at once, both with an eep, and pushing her body along on the table. Turning, Rogal sat up upon the table, before lying down, extending an arm out to the side, 
“Lie with me, please?” He said, his voice regaining its warmth. Octavia obeyed, snuggling close to her huge lover. Her mechadendrites replaced her undergarments, as Rogal’s huge hand rested on her hip. He let out a yawn, “You will have to excuse me,” He said, clearing his throat with a small cough, “But that really takes it out of a man. Can we just lie here?”
Octavia nodded into his chest, “We can, after all, it is still lunch time,”

The pair lay there, trading small chitchat, between lying in the relative silence, languishing in the afterglow. Octavia rolled, propping herself up on her lovers chest, as she looked over him with her emerald eyes. His lopsided smile beamed back at her, as her cognitor slowly watched her dopamine levels stabilise. Absentmindedly, a mechadendrite played with a shard from the broken glowglobe, as Rogal gently stroked at her back. 
“You do know I was joking right?” He asked his guest, feeling very much the luckiest man in the Imperium. The petite priestess giggled, covering her mouth with a hand and mechadendrite, as she shook her head,
“Really? You thought I was…? Well,” He paused for thought, “I suppose I could, if you’d like?”
He lifted his head to study his lover, as she smiled shyly, her cheeks flushing with colour once more, her head bobbing as she nodded,
“I would like that,” She said, her fleshbrain nodding hungry, seconding the idea. Rogal nodded, stretching his other arm up in front of his face. Octavia felt his body tense, puzzlement flooding her features,
“Is something the matter?” She asked, looking up the commissars raised arm. Red. So much red. With a few bands of white from where her mechadendrite had spiralled around his arm. The bandages were soaked in blood, and the Commissar’s face was pale. 
“DRAGONONMARSISYOURARMOKAY?IMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRY,” Octavia wailed as she pulled the arm towards her with her mechadendrites, cradling it gently in her arms. Rogal fumbled for his pocket with his good hand, pulling the small white jar of pills out.
“It’s okay,” He said, pulling himself up to sitting, “I took these, Doctor said it’d let me use my arm.”
Octavia snatched the bottle with a mechadendrite, rotating it in front of her eyes,
“Rogal,” She began, her tone firm, “Do you know what this is?”

The commissar shook his head,
“It’s Atryme.”
Rogal looked at her blankly, “So?”
Her cognitor whacked its forehead to its palm, “Atryme is an advanced opioid combined with a neural inhibitor and some other suppressants,”
The blank look stayed fixed in place on Rogal’s face.
“They use this to sedate captured bioforms.”
“It’s a horse tranquilizer?” The simple part of Rogal’s mind made the connection,
“Not a tranquilizer, but along the same lines. Your arm could have been taken off and you wouldn’t have noticed.” She said, concern flooding her voice, “We need to get you to the Infirmary, now. You could be bleeding severely.”
Rogal sighed, shrugging his shoulders. He had been surprised by the amount of blood, but he felt fine now that he had thought about it. Octavia had other ideas, leaping to her feet, before grabbing the table for support, the fleshy parts of her legs still weak, as her mechadendrites gathered her skirt around her once more. Grabbing the Commissar by the hand, she pulled him towards the door.
“Can I at least,” Rogal said, standing his ground, pulling his petite lover back towards him, “fix my uniform?”
Looking away and blushing, Octavia stepped back towards the towering commissar, her mechadendrites working in a matter of seconds to tuck in and rebutton Rogal’s shirt, before she was pulling at him again.
“You don’t need your jacket, you’re wounded, uniform codes don’t apply, even to commissars,” She said, as she pulled him out of the tent. The huge commissar sighed, a smile playing across his lips, as Octavia pulled him along. He could hear the concern in her voice, and it pulled at his massive heart strings. As a commissar, he wasn’t used to people caring about him, at least in this sort of way. Guardsmen would care because it stopped them getting shot, Civilians would care because of the same reason.

Octavia cared, because he meant something to her. He looked up to the sky, and to his Emprah, and smiled, He cared about Octavia, because she meant something to him too. Something that he knew would change things forever. Octavia’s mechadendrites threw open the doors of the infirmary, as she marched the still goofily smiling Commissar up to the nearest doctor, the same lean and stubbled one that Rogal had visited before. He raised an eyebrow questioningly,
“A rough lunch sir?” He asked nonchalantly, taking in the blood soaked bandage on the Commissars arm. Rogal shook his head, “I just, bumped it.”
The doctor sighed, “You took the pills I gave you?”
Rogal nodded, and the doctor sighed again, “Right, that explains everything. Nurse?”
The buxom young nurse appeared at his shoulder again, “Prep me a room, and get me a suture kit.” He paused, looking at the commissar’s huge frame, “Actually, make that two. Commissar? If you would just wait here.”
The Doctor strode off, the nurse having already disappeared to follow her orders. Octavia looked up at her muscle bound love, and couldn’t help but smile despite the situation. He may have been just a weak fleshy unaugmented human, but, her cognitor and fleshbrain agreed, that from here on out, he was hers. He Squeezed her tiny hand gently as he smiled down at her, relishing the adorable smile he got in return. He was a simple man, with a big heart, and the petite priestess of the machine god beside him, had found her place within it. He cleared his throat,
“I’m not much good with fancy words,” He explained, “But, I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for caring. You’re far too kind to this simple servant of the Emprah.”
Octavia shook her head, before leaning against the huge commissar, “And you to this humble servant of the Omnissiah. So let’s call it even?”
Rogal laughed, “Deal.”