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Description
Part six of Dogfish's Bomber Gone short story. In this scene Sammi works her way into the bomber's cockpit and deals with the flight crew. After taking out the co-pilot she slides on top of the pilot's lap and watches as she slowly passes out. Here is an except from the story:

Sammi walked up to the main control console. The pilot sat in the big chair, her visor down and her oxygen mask firmly attached, giving it the whole hotshot military pilot act. Deciding to dispense with any sort of formal greeting Sammi simply reached over the top of the chair, grabbing the hose of the mask with one hand and squeezing it tight shut, while with the other hand pressing the mask onto the face of the pilot more tightly.
She could hear the pilot try to protest as she squeezed, reaching up with her hands to free herself, relying on the autopilot to do the flying. Sammi squeezed tighter, wrapping the hose around her hand for extra leverage. The pilot was flailing now, the rubber of the mask collapsing onto her face more tightly at the lack of air. Sammi smiled, it would all be over soon. She slipped around the front of the chair, straddling the pilot, getting comfortable.
The pilot felt Sammi slide into her lap, comfortable and intimate like a lover. She tried to resist but she was too tightly strapped into her seat. Was this a prank? Was she really under attack? What about the others? Her mind raced, or it tried to as the asphyxiation began to take her, she grabbed at the harnesses that secured her into the seat, her fingers already feeling thick and clumsy as she struggled to work the catches. She heard one catch click open as spots danced in front of her eyes, her hands tracing down the second strap towards the catch there, she felt something, tried to grip it, but then everything went dark.

Bomber Gone by DogfishBomber Gone
The Damocles prototype soared through the air more smoothly and naturally than anything that size had any business to. The vast delta wing aircraft howled through the sky like an angry dragon, the sheer bulk and speed of the monster ripping the air apart in a deafening din that threatened to drown out the engines. The Damocles was a marvel of modern engineering, the ultimate expression of technical superiority. It was not enough to just drop bombs any more, no, you had to scare people. They had to know what was coming. They had to fear it. Once airborne the Damocles had the range to reach any city on the planet and the firepower to remove it from existence. It could do it from high altitude, or it could come down good and low, shattering windows and shaking buildings by its mere presence. The designers were all very proud.
Within the belly of the beast things were much quieter. The flight crew sat at their stations, carefully running their scheduled inflight checks while a

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Mature Content

Description
Part six of Dogfish's Bomber Gone short story. In this scene Sammi works her way into the bomber's cockpit and deals with the flight crew. After taking out the co-pilot she slides on top of the pilot's lap and watches as she slowly passes out. Here is an except from the story:

Sammi walked up to the main control console. The pilot sat in the big chair, her visor down and her oxygen mask firmly attached, giving it the whole hotshot military pilot act. Deciding to dispense with any sort of formal greeting Sammi simply reached over the top of the chair, grabbing the hose of the mask with one hand and squeezing it tight shut, while with the other hand pressing the mask onto the face of the pilot more tightly.
She could hear the pilot try to protest as she squeezed, reaching up with her hands to free herself, relying on the autopilot to do the flying. Sammi squeezed tighter, wrapping the hose around her hand for extra leverage. The pilot was flailing now, the rubber of the mask collapsing onto her face more tightly at the lack of air. Sammi smiled, it would all be over soon. She slipped around the front of the chair, straddling the pilot, getting comfortable.
The pilot felt Sammi slide into her lap, comfortable and intimate like a lover. She tried to resist but she was too tightly strapped into her seat. Was this a prank? Was she really under attack? What about the others? Her mind raced, or it tried to as the asphyxiation began to take her, she grabbed at the harnesses that secured her into the seat, her fingers already feeling thick and clumsy as she struggled to work the catches. She heard one catch click open as spots danced in front of her eyes, her hands tracing down the second strap towards the catch there, she felt something, tried to grip it, but then everything went dark.

Bomber Gone by DogfishBomber Gone
The Damocles prototype soared through the air more smoothly and naturally than anything that size had any business to. The vast delta wing aircraft howled through the sky like an angry dragon, the sheer bulk and speed of the monster ripping the air apart in a deafening din that threatened to drown out the engines. The Damocles was a marvel of modern engineering, the ultimate expression of technical superiority. It was not enough to just drop bombs any more, no, you had to scare people. They had to know what was coming. They had to fear it. Once airborne the Damocles had the range to reach any city on the planet and the firepower to remove it from existence. It could do it from high altitude, or it could come down good and low, shattering windows and shaking buildings by its mere presence. The designers were all very proud.
Within the belly of the beast things were much quieter. The flight crew sat at their stations, carefully running their scheduled inflight checks while a


Mature Content