Girl on the Net

To be honest, I would love a set of armour right now. Clanking, intimidating, powerful armour which shines bright in the glare of the sun, terrifying my enemies and making me look like an absolute boss of the battlefield. But traditionally armour tended to be worn more by men, which makes my feminist-and-battle-hungry heart a little sad. That’s why I’m delighted that rmp792 has dropped by with a sexy story about women in armour, wrapped in a gorgeous guest blog explaining – in delightful detail – his armour kink…

You may remember rmp792 from previous guest blogs – also both recorded as audio like this one! The first tells how he fell in love with GoneWildAudio, and the second is a beautiful essay on the hotness of begging. Do check out more of his audio work on Reddit too.

Why I get hot for women in armour

I hear it long before I see it. The steady rhythm of heavy metal boots, the strides measured and calm. Metronome perfect, almost hypnotic. Louder and louder until the door slides open and the figure steps into the room.

The form is bulky, but moves with a strange grace. I watch as it approaches, the sound of steel rubbing on steel, leather creaking and the gentle rustle of cloth. I set down the book I had been reading and stand to move towards the figure, noting the blade sheathed at its hip.

They stop, and even through the bulky helmet I can feel their eyes on me, then the armoured hands lift to its head and fumble for a moment before catching underneath and pulling.
Then the helmet lifts away and beneath is the most beautiful face I have ever seen. She shakes her hair free and smiles at me.

“Hey honey,” she says with a smile. “Do you want to help me out of this thing?”

The Inherent Eroticism of Armour

Armour is sexy. This is something I have known for a very long time, but articulating why I find it so has never been easy for me.

Before I go on I should clarify that I am both a medievalist and a sci-fi nerd, so when I refer to ‘armour’ I mean both the full plate you may have seen in museums and the more fantastic ‘powered armour’ that turns up in many fictional universes. If you’re still unsure, think of the difference between the Kingsguard in Game of Thrones and Iron Man, both armour though of very different sorts.

So why is armour sexy? Well to start with it comes back to one of the classic heroic images, The Knight in Shining Armour. We associate heavy plate armour with heroic figures, and while the historian in me knows that the truth was far more complex than that, a good story is often enough. Armour is a symbol of strength, protection and knightly valour.

Women in Armour: useful armour

Think of women in armour, I’ll give you a moment. Now I strongly suspect that you’re picturing something that tries far too hard to be sexy. Most likely either a metal chainmail bikini, or a plate suit with a chest piece that features sculpted breasts. This is known as a ‘Boob Plate’ by most people and is quite silly for a number of reasons, but it can look good and some people genuinely enjoy the style. Personally however I’m a man of simple tastes. In real life I will always prefer something simple and effective, but that is where my love of science fiction comes in. For that need not be constrained by practical considerations.

From the restrained designs of Mass Effect to the gloriously baroque designs of Warhammer 40,000, science fiction is awash with designs for armour that looks effective while also being sexy beyond all reason.

Ultimately that’s what appeals to me. Armour is sexy, because it works. It protects, it takes something soft and vulnerable and stands between them and harm. Plus, while revealing clothing can be hot, so can something that goes in completely the other direction.

Then, of course, there’s the art of taking it off…

Taking off someone else’s clothes is fun, and getting in and out of armour on your own is really difficult. There is a very good reason why knights had squires. I own a basic pair of leather bracers and I often have to ask for help with the buckles, anything more complex than that and you need help. There’s a lot of potential there. Though I highly doubt this is a fantasy I’ll ever be able to explore in real life, largely because I don’t have a couple of grand spare to spend on a full harness, it’s still one that runs through my brain from time to time and sometimes that’s enough.

Take it off

I smile at her and lean in to kiss her. She tilts her head slightly as our lips meet. I taste the hint of sweat on her lips. I take the helmet and sword from her and place them on their stand.

Next she holds out her arm and I carefully pull the gauntlet from her hand. It’s articulated fingers rattle as they come free and with it comes the leather glove exposing the bare skin beneath. I run my hand down the cool metal bracer still covering her wrist and feel the skin on her hand tingle as my chilled fingers make contact with her bare flesh. She chuckles.

“I thought I asked you to help me, not tease me.” She says, but there is no malice to her words. I smirk in response.

“I can do both,” I say. She laughs.

I turn her wrist so the straps that hold her bracers in place are exposed and I carefully undo the buckles, one, two, and three. As the last buckle comes loose I catch the bracer and place it beside the gauntlet. Beneath the bracer is the thick material of her padded jacket and I gently brush a stray thread back into place.

Next I unclip her pauldron and pull it away, the edge of her chainmail coat now visible.

Her other arm comes up and I repeat the procedure, but this time I guide her hand up to my mouth and gently kiss it. She giggles.

I drop to my knees and she turns around. My fingers deftly unbuckle the straps of her greaves and I pull them away one at a time, exposing the simple cloth trousers beneath. I run my fingers up her legs and she sighs at the feel of me through the fabric.

“You are a menace” she mutters. I smile up at her, my face level with an ass still covered by plate steel.

“I try,” I respond.

I undo the buckles on her shoes and pull them off one at a time. The metal plates that cover the leather clink as I work, but soon they’re on the stand. The thick socks go straight into the laundry basket, and her bare feet flex a little on the cool floor.

I lift myself back to my feet, without the padded boots I’m a fair bit taller than her and she has to lean back a ways to kiss me. She almost over balances but I wrap an arm around her waist and hold her while we kiss. The metal is cool and solid, but her lips are warm and so very soft.

I make sure she’s back on balance, then I lift the gorget over her head. It too takes its place on the stand. She turns her head from side to side and rolls her neck around, finally able to do so without being poked in the face. I resist the urge to prod her cheek, but it is a close run thing. Only one piece now remains, though it is by far the largest.

Her arms come up allowing me access to the straps that hold her breast and back plates in place. With practiced motions I undo them, then repeat the process on the other side. Lastly I undo one of the shoulder straps. I pull the chest pieces away, using the one remaining strap to keep them together and place them onto the stand. She sighs happily as the weight comes away, but there are still a few parts remaining.

The chainmail coat comes away next, and getting out of it is by far the least dignified part of the process. She bends over, giving me an admittedly spectacular view, and I help her pull the coat over her head. She has to be careful not to get her hair caught in the rings, but once it’s clear I take up the heavy bundle and hang it on a second stand. Now all that’s left is her thick padded gambeson.

She doesn’t really need my help with that, but I know she wants it anyway. I kiss her again and as I do my hands unlace the jacket and I pull it from her shoulders. It drops to the floor as she presses into me and I’m inclined to leave it there for a while. She pushes the hair out of her face and glances over to the bathroom.

“Well then Squire,” she says, putting a lot of emphasis on the last word. “I could use a shower.” She grins at me.

“Oh really?” I reply, my hand snakes around her waist again. She pulls away, but takes my hand in hers and begins to lead me over to the bathroom.

“Come on,” She says. “You can help with all those… hard to reach areas.”

I smile and follow her, and all I can think to say is:

“Yes my lady.”