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"The German war machine will be dismantled, piece by piece, and we are the wrench!" She was golden, her hair wavy and shining in sinuous, wandering lines down her shoulders. "We will hunt each and every one of Hitler's cruel, black-hearted lackeys down and bring them to justice." Her voice was swollen with patriotic pride and fury, and her breasts surged against the rugged fabric of her field uniform. "And when you get to hell, tell them Uncle Sam sent you!" The golden retriever flung her finger out at the creature before her.

The other was a prisoner of war-- a German Shepherd. Where the retriever was standing tall and triumphant, she was hunkered down, ears folded flat on a lowered head. She snarled, eyes flashing, and she barked furious spats of German, though few knew or cared what she said. She was bound hand and foot, hobbled such that she could only just stand, but still she looked ready to leap at the retriever at any moment. Her fervor matched the retriever's note for note, though as much darker as her coat of fur by comparison. Her arms flexed against her bindings, her own tattered uniform pulling taut over modest, firm breasts. The sight was bizarre and rapturous-- the bloody war between the Allied Forces and Germany captured perfectly in two voluptuous young women in stylized uniforms, complete with scandalously short skirts.

It could have been inspiring if the two weren't half the size of the American troops crowding around the scene in a circle. Or if they had actually launched into combat, rather than throwing insults back and forth, taking perhaps a fervent step forward before retreating with as much dignity as they could manage. Indeed, many wished they would do something-- a few people were trying to make bets, even a handful on the German. There was fire in her eyes, they said. But the two jumped about, advancing and retreating like they were fencing with dirty looks and patriotic snippets. One man out of the crowd was trying to get the folks to disperse, but he was much too late.

"What's the meaning of this?" The blare of a snarling lion's full-throated roar deafened half the circle, and silenced the rest. The captain had found them. "Moretti!"

The roe deer winced. He stepped out of the crowd. "Yessir."

"I told you to watch the doll and keep her out of trouble until tonight!"

"I'm sorry, sir. When they brought the captured--"

"I was told you were an expert on these. Things. If you can't take care of it, I'll find somebody else and get you some real work!"

The buck smiled ruefully. "No, sir, I can handle it, sir."

"Then handle it!" The lion, thin and rather gaunt looking, had lost none of his edge. The crowd was already dispersing, but those that were slow to wander off got the brunt of his glare. "I'm sure we've got a lot of shitholes need dug if you lot are so bored as to clog up the road with your idiocy!" They scurried in every direction, leaving a few dropped dollar bills and unlit cigarettes. The German doll was carried off howling something about 'Amerika.'

"Sorry, sir, won't happen again." Moretti snatched up the golden pup, who had snapped a salute as soon as the captain had appeared.

"See that it won't. I'd tell you to hide her somewhere if I thought any of the men could be trusted alone with her." The weary rasp crawled back into his voice, hand in hand with his black contempt. With that, the lion turned and strode off again, a handful of officers following after.

And just like that, the street was empty. Only the broken, half-collapsed buildings stared down at them, the buck, the doll, and his friend-- Brown.

Corporal Brown hadn't even gotten up from the great stone block they'd been sitting on when the German doll appeared. Now that Moretti looked at him, he didn't think he'd so much as shifted a little in his seat. He was just staring at the rubble-strewn road, as he'd taken to doing more and more lately. Moretti glanced the way the German doll had gone.

"Folks know shepherds aren't all bad, you know." He hadn't realized how deep the silence had gotten, so quickly, when everyone was gone. His words seemed sudden and loud. Or maybe it was just because he'd finally said what he'd wanted to say since he met the man last week. Every day, the other troops stared at him suspiciously. German Shepherd. Hitler's perfect race. Little wonder it was his choice for a German doll, half his staff was said to be sheps.

Brown looked up. Just meeting his eyes for a moment. He blinked, and looked down.

The buck didn't quite sigh. He looked down to the doll, and crouched to get at roughly eye level. "Private Apple Pie. Look at our good corporal." She did. "Does he look like a Nazi to you?" Her gaze swept back to his, and she didn't hesitate.

"America is a land of many heritages. Regardless of where it came from, good, red, American blood runs in the veins of every one of our soldiers." She smiled at the shepherd.

"There you go!" Moretti clapped her on the shoulder, smiling at the canine as well. "From the mouths of babes, huh? Real babes, in this case." He gave one proud, American breast a squeeze, and she gave him a smile as well. "You don't think he's a spy or anything, huh?"

"Spies will not walk boldly down our front lines asking for our secrets." Her tone darkened suddenly. "They will speak just like us, and look just like us. We must be vigilant."

The buck's face froze a moment. "Er... right." He managed a smile again, chuckling weakly. "See? You can't be a spy, you'd be too obvious!" His chuckles died under the weight of his sagging shoulders.

The shepherd chuckled, though. That perked Moretti's ears. "Thanks, private," the canine hesitated, and corrected himself, "privates. But it takes more than a few dirty looks to... slow me down." He made one brief moment of eye contact again before drawing into himself.

"So what's slowing you down, then?" Moretti rose, dropping his smile. "I know we haven't known each other long, but it doesn't take a genius to tell something's eating you up." He folded his arms slowly. "I know it must be a hell of a thing. I've seen you fight, and I dunno if a tank could even slow you down." One could hardly tell by the way the shepherd slouched now, but he was a great, hulking specimen of that 'master race,' well over six feet when he could bring himself to hold his head high. When he was silent, the deer pressed, "What is... slowing you down?"

The shepherd drew a deep breath, held it a moment, bracing his shoulders... and let it go in a heavy sigh. "Well, that's just it..." He thumbed the butt of the rifle slung over his shoulder. "I'm good at it, you know? Fighting." His eyes rose, and they were small, weak little shimmering things, brown smeared on white. "I've seen a lot of men die. Real men, men that, who knows, if my grampa hadn't crossed the ocean..." He stared off to one side a moment, and shook his head. "But I... I think I'm starting to get used to it. T-to... like it." The word was forced out of him with the slumping of his body. "And I can't... I don't think I can go back. Not after all this. Not after what I've become..." He stroked the butt of his rifle with awkward, stiff motions.

"...What? You can't be serious." Moretti knew it wasn't the right thing to say, but this just wasn't making a lick of sense to him. "There's tons of men out here that have died just trying to outlive the war and get home, and you want to just stay and...? Don't you have family? Mom? Dad? Maybe a girl wringing a kerchief, waiting for you to come knocking?" He knew he himself had half a dozen brothers and sisters that would come to his service just to beat him right out of hell for being so stupid as to get himself killed.

"I do..." It was almost a whisper. The shepherd swallowed. "The most beautiful..." He closed his eyes a moment, head rising toward the sky as he allowed himself a bare half a smile. "She said she would wait. She promised-- but I stopped her. I told her to promise me that if I didn't come back, she'd find someone-- a man that would do right by her, and love her as fiercely and..." he hesitated, blushing a hint as he mumbled before going on, "...as I would, and to be happy. And if she waited for me to get back, I'd rightly appreciate it, but..." He shook his head again, giving a weak chuckle that might have been partly something else. "So she'll be fine. Better this way, really. If I came home now, I could never... I'm not the same man." He turned a paw over to stare at his palmpad. "It eats away at you, all the death. Every time you see the light fade from a man's eyes, it takes a little bit of it with you." His fingers twitched inward a little. "Better she finds someone else, and I... end here..."

Silence. The buck swung down into a crouch again with the doll, twisting his mouth slowly as he watched the shepherd a moment. "Private. Next time you see one of those German dolls like they brought into camp today, you know what you should do?"

Two bright, blue eyes turned up to meet his, not quite alive but hauntingly close.

"You should walk up and give her a good punch in the jaw. Just crack her one, and that'll really give the troops something to cheer over, huh?" He smiled, but she just blinked at him. "It's not very inspiring to just stand there shouting things at her, you know. You're supposed to be our inspiration and morale officer, right? Our tiny Valkyries?" She smiled at that and nodded. "Well, if you really wanna inspire the troops to victory, go plant one on her cheek. It'll be very symbolic, yeah?" The doll stared at him, perhaps looking a hint uncertain. "You... do know how to punch someone, don't you?" She shook her head quietly. "Heh, I guess not. Not much room in that head along with all the propaganda, huh? Not supposed to be in direct combat, anyway. Well, here." He pulled her closer, turning her to put her back to him as he grasped at her arms. "You ball your paw up like this... you plant your feet... and you twist from here," he grasped at her hips, "and throw your fist with your whole body. Here..." He took her through the motions, puppeting out little jabs and hooks with the buxom doll.

"She's all I've got, now." The German Shepherd's voice was a sudden intrusion. The words were bubbling out of him now. "Her for a lover, the war for a goal, and death for an end. It'll find me sooner or later. I guess I might as well get used to it. No real woman deserves this kind of monster lusting after her, so the little sex dolls will be my... my..." He lapsed into mutters, head low.

Moretti huffed, and dropped his eyes to the doll again. "You want a proper demonstration, private? Watch carefully..."

He rose, and approached the canine. "Corporal." His voice was dry and formal. Brown dragged his head up, blinking away moisture in surprise at the sudden shift. A fist barreled into his cheek, and he toppled on his side, half-falling off the block while the buck clutched at his hand. "Jesus, Mary and the Plumber! You can take that lead chin of yours and... nnnghaha!" He glanced back at the doll, who was still watching obediently. "Granted, it'll hurt if you're punching a big pile of rocks wearing a fur suit. The key is to punch as hard as you can, and then get stone drunk after." He turned back to the shep, who was rubbing at his jaw with a deal less cringing than the deer, though he was staring up at him with utter disbelief at this point. "Begging your pardon, corporal, but that's such a load of shit you'll need two latrines. If you've still got the heart to worry for your girl when you're in the middle of a damned warzone, you're better than half the men out there." He peeled his less-broken hand off the other and offered it to the shepherd, who had ultimately slumped on the street. "And if she's as pretty as all that, I'd say it's your solemn duty as a man to survive this war and go get her," he grunted heavily with effort as he pulled the shepherd up. "And love her fiercely, and rut her right into the ground as you like." He grinned, and the shepherd definitely blushed this time.

Turning back to the doll, he gave a grand gesture. "Of course, you wouldn't want to kill her with all your pent up virility, big strapping fellow you are, so there's nothing wrong with enjoying a little personal time at the US government's expense. Letting off a little steam and all, huh?" He rose a chiding finger right under the shep's nose. "But only to tide yourself over till you can get back to your girl, ah? None of this going out and dying business." He shook that finger about. "None!" When the shepherd looked like he was going to take a bite at it, he withdrew it, tone suddenly taming down. "Er, corporal. Sir." He cleared his throat. "Sorry about the, ah..." He gestured at his cheek, though the shepherd barely even seemed to feel it now. The buck's hand was still a knot of agony at his side.

A real smile. A big, toothy smile, scary just because it was so big. Moretti didn't think he'd seen one on the shep's face since he'd met him. He smiled right back. "Thank you, private." The shep was quiet. "Maybe you're right." He gave the buck a good slap on the back, throwing him forward a step or two. "We'll have to see whether or not I live, but it's true I'd like to see her again more than anything... and maybe if I can keep a friend or two like you at my side, I can pull through this with a little bit of myself intact." He took a few steps, as if reconsidering the bleak town around them, which did seem to have taken a warm, almost golden hue in the brief flash of sunlight the clouds allowed at dusk. He glanced back at the buck. "You hit me again, though, and I'll have you on very intimate terms with latrines and their capacity, though."

"Yes, sir." The buck's grin didn't falter. He glanced around, and returned to the doll. "There, you see that? So you just gotta... yeah, turn, and swing with your whole body. And if you really wanna get fancy, you can swing... then swing... and go for the uppercut! That'll really floor 'em. One, two, uppercut!"

"You're having too much fun with that thing, you know." The shepherd rubbed his chin, tonguing at his teeth. "It's kind of weird, talking with a golem that runs on... man... stuff."

"Sugardolls are a work of art! These things could run for a week on a drop of the stuff, they're so perfectly designed." The buck smiled, his admiration obvious as he took deliberate time in moving her hips, her legs, her arms, her chest. "I've only got an hour or two before they call it a night and let the boys get to work on her, and then it'll be me and all the rest of our old troop. Lucky we get one night with just us lot. If she hadn't already treated all the guys in the reinforcements, it'd be one hell of a line." He sighed heavily. "Just a couple hours to really look her over... I've never gotten to before, you know. Way too poor to get one." He guided her movements. "Remember. One. Two. Uppercut!"

The shepherd had shuddered heavily. "All the reinforcements... She's already done it with over a hundred men?"

"Well more than that, I'd imagine." He smiled a hint. "Don't worry, though-- she's self-cleaning and everything. One man finishes his business, and she's fresh as a virgin before the next guy's got his pants down."

In reality, she didn't prove quite that efficient, but she was close.

But in the dark of a single room filled with bodies, lit by a single lamp, few cared when they shouldered in next to the fellow zipping up his pants that the hole was a little slimier than usual. Moretti didn't even shiver when he went back for thirds and a dragon's cum slopped across his balls as they slapped to her cheeks. Two strokes, and she'd drunk it all up, flexing nice and tight around him, though the scaly private had been... quite enviably large. Her breasts swelled up invitingly as the bear across from him ground deep into her neck, and he was happy to oblige her with two deep, greedy gropes.

The retriever's uniform green jacket was splayed across the stout desk, her arms still entrapped in the fabric under the bear's tightening fingers as he used them for handles. Her skirt was on the floor somewhere, forgotten underfoot. Her luxurious, thick, golden fur was immaculate even in this shabby wreck of a building where they each had to cough on dust until their throats were comfortably coated. It was a miracle the building was still standing-- it was one of the few still intact in the town, and it looked liable to come down any moment. None of this could dampen the troop's spirits right now, though-- they were getting a much-deserved, desperately-needed reward for their brave capture of this very town.

And Private Apple Pie was happy to give it to them. She rolled her hips to meet every fervent thrust the buck pushed into her, her sweet little snatch embracing him tightly, sucking him in and dragging at him hungrily with every draw. He'd hardly lasted a minute the first time-- barely any of them had. But everyone had gone back for another round. When the bear groaned out, grinding down that slender-but-swollen neck one last time before dragging out, the doll gave one slurp and a gulp before smiling brightly up at him. "Good work, soldier! You've done your nation proud." She craned her head up to beam at Moretti. "Put your weight into it, private! I won't break." Her bright smile was abruptly stuffed full of lynx dick, and she let her head fall back, tongue surging past her lips to slither across that rod as it slid firmly down her gullet.

The roe could only chuckle incredulously. Her constant patriotism was a little creepy at times, but damn, did this pussy make up for it. He swung his hips back and slammed tight into her tiny frame, and he thought he saw her bend between the grind of his hips and the feline corporal's, but she rewarded him with an exquisite ripple of tightness, hips rolling to grind him around her sweet, slick depths. A rough groan etched in his throat as his fingers wrapped tight round her hips and he dragged to pound in again and again.

This was the scene that Corporal Brown found when he walked in-- a dozen men lounging on broken furniture or standing close round that desk, waiting their turn at the miniature retriever stretched out across it with her legs open and her head back. It was a very odd sight, to be sure-- he was barely more than a virgin himself, and intimacy had always been a very private thing to him. Even nudity was carefully guarded within his family; his mother had yelled at him to put a shirt on when he'd come in sweating in the middle of summer as a child. So all these men with their shirts off, many hanging right out the front of their pants, struck him off guard. The little blond creature on the table, breasts heavy and rolling with the force of thrusts from either direction, only confused him further. He'd just been thinking about leaving when Moretti pulled from his mount with a heavy sigh, apparently satisfied once more. Brown averted his eyes, so he didn't realize when the buck spotted him.

"And here I thought you weren't going to show up! Good on ya, man!" He slapped the shep's arm, leaving a wet spot. Brown glanced at him, but averted his eyes again when he saw Moretti had left his pants open. "You want a shot at her? Everyone's had at least one go already, so you can take a shot straight away." He grinned, but the canine was looking to the other side of the room.

"What about her?"

In the far corner, a weasel was struggling a little with Blondi, the German doll. She was pushing away from the private, constantly trying to crawl off his dick only for him to shove her down on it again. He still seemed to enjoy it, but he was obviously irritated all the same. She seemed to be cursing him through her gag, though something in the way she moved her hips made Brown think it might not have been... completely non-consensual. Such was her design, after all.

All the same, the weasel seemed doubly relieved when he was finished with her. Moretti glanced at the large shepherd uncertainly a moment. "Her? I thought it was a godsend when the officers sent her down, but... she's not really a happy camper." He gave a reassuring smile. "I think Private Apple Pie would be--"

"Her. She's free, right?" He gestured to the German doll, who had seemingly run out of patrons. The weasel was looking around for someone to hand her to, and spotted the two of them. He held her up at arm's length like a colicky child. The way she fumed, she may as well have been one. Brown stepped up and took her, and was stunned for a moment at how... alive she felt. She was warm, and soft, and she wriggled about as she changed paws.

"You... sure?" Moretti frowned.

"Yes." Brown looked her over, and he felt his heart ache a little. It wasn't much of a similarity, really, but... "She reminds me of Julia." He smiled softly. The doll stared up at him, and her expression softened as well. He undid her gag, letting it fall to the floor, and she said something quietly in German, wonder in her tone. He smiled softly, and turned to take a seat on the rickety chair the weasel had left. It creaked a little under his great mass, but it felt sturdy enough. "There, now. A smile, and she's quite friendly, isn't she?" He held her uncertainly.

"I'll just leave you two alone, then..." The buck gave a fretful smile, turning away... and hesitated. He turned back again, watching as the corporal sat there, a little uncertain just how to go on. "Uh... corporal? I think... she might be acting nicer because she thinks you're a German soldier..." He winced as he spoke.

Brown blinked, and looked up. Some of the others across the room were staring. That suspicious look again. A growl kindled in the shep's throat, and his eyes flicked down to the dolls. He thumbed the rank insignia on his arm, pulling it close in her vision. "American!" He snarled, and she blinked, startled. Her big, brown eyes narrowed into hateful slits, and she went into a fresh tirade of German, now that she was free of her gag. Brown sighed.

"Heh, yeah, we've had to keep her plugged up one way or another to keep her from killing the mood." Moretti smiled wryly, gesturing to the gag, and the retriever on the desk, who was busy gargling a big, fat bear dick all over again. "Here." He plucked up the bit of cloth and beat the dust off it.

"Well... you can join me, if you want." The words had a little trouble crawling out of the shep's mouth, but he managed. The buck blinked, and smiled uncertainly, one brow cocked. "Might as well gag her, huh? And you, ah, seem to be ready to go again." He glanced briefly between the buck's legs. It was certainly perky, though it looked kind of... small. That had stuck in the back of his head-- there had been a lot of... equipment hanging out when he entered the room, but it had all looked rather small. He didn't think it was that cold in here...

"Well, sure, I'm always up for fourth's!" The buck chuckled loosely, dropping the gag. "You're sure you don't mind?" The shep shrugged, and with little ado, the buck stepped up and pulled the doll's head back, letting her lean back in the shep's lap. The high, frantic German finally cut off with a thick, wet slurp as the buck shoved his dick into that noisy little mouth.

Brown couldn't help but stare a moment. Part of why he'd asked was-- he wasn't sure he could just... put it in her on his own. Was he supposed to do something first? Warm her up? A few brief snippets of advice from his father had gotten him through his first time, but this seemed a very different situation. Moretti had just... shoved it in her without even a how-do-you-do. Brown swallowed, and unzipped his pants. He had to admit, he was glad to be free of his trousers, just the smell of the room had been enough to make them very uncomfortable...

It was Moretti's turn to stare, now. It took the shep a moment to realize as he stroked slowly over his own firm, proud length, but it was probably the buck's silence, more than anything. He glanced up, and blushed brightly when he realized the roe was blatantly staring at his equipment. "W-what?!"

"Jumpin' Christ, man! Have enough shlong, do ya?" The buck announced incredulously. A few heads across the room turned their way, and quickly turned back again.

The shepherd blinked. "...What?"

"You're huge, man! You actually put that thing in women?" The shep blushed brighter, stumbling over words, and the buck had to ask, "what are you, a full foot long?"

"Er... no?" He was thirteen inches, or near enough-- one curious evening with a ruler had been not quite conclusive. He cleared his throat, and tried to put on a stern face. "Would you mind not staring?"

The buck blinked rapidly, and shook his head before finally pulling his eyes away. "Great Gods, man. Go ahead, then. Have fun." He hesitated a moment, and a wry smile grew on his face. "Sorry." He hefted up the German doll, who spent the conversation with the buck's balls plastered to her face and had no idea what she was in for.

Shaking his head a moment, the corporal drew a deep breath and drew up the doll's hips. His paws were shaking, their first touch more an accident than anything, but the touch of her sex to the underside of his shaft was a sudden kiss of warmth that had sent a jerk through both of them. He pulled her up all the way to his tip, his breathing noisy in his ears as he considered the sight before her. This tiny shepherd, bare of a stitch of clothing, bent back before him with her throat bulging around his friend, and her reddish pink slit exposed just before his thick shaft. They were almost a perfect match in color-- her slender lips, and his fat, slowly throbbing cock. The idea of pulling her onto him, this girl he didn't know, this thing, seemed... obscene. Disastrously so. But... he needed it. Gods, he needed it. He pulled her to nestle against him, and he closed his eyes.

Her flesh was soft, too smooth for him to gain purchase. His head slid around her sex, grinding over her lips and into her delicate fur. He drew her back up, and ground her sex over him, slowly letting her spread around the point of his tip. She was so... dreadfully... wonderfully warm inside. Just his very tip dipped past her inner lips, and the sensation was incredible. He pulsed, and thick pre spread inside her. His arms trembled, not with the effort of holding her up, but with the effort of holding back-- of holding himself to just slowly, carefully pulling her down onto him, instead of shoving her ass tight to his lap. He just wanted to... feel it.

She never stuck-- she was slick with her own juices, and he was dribbling prefluids all over already. She slid smoothly over him, and he could feel every slow, exquisite stretch as her flesh strained open wider and wider around him. She dragged over the swell of his head, heavenly warmth eating up his cumvein steadily as that flesh drew tighter and tighter over the full, demanding swell of his girth. His paws flexed on her hips, holding her tight in place as he snarled silently, working the last of his head inside her. She formed perfectly around every inch he fed her, his every ridge a ripple in her taut flesh. He felt something on his paws, and his eyes flickered open-- to find her own tiny paws clutching at his fingers. He hesitated, looking up uncertainly.

"I think she likes it, corporal." The buck smiled mischievously, hips slowly rocking to roll his own shaft around in that neck.

Those little fingers tightened, and pulled at the shepherd's own, looking like massive sausages under the tiny digits. He blinked, looking over the slender girl-- er, doll, and after a moment, she tugged at him firmly. The great shepherd frowned a hint, swallowed, and re-firmed his grip.

It happened. He wasn't even sure if he'd meant to, or if his restraint had just slipped-- but his arms seized, and he slammed that poor little doll down his rod to the very root, seating her vigorously on over a foot of throbbing canine meat-- and pulling her entirely off the buck with room to spare. She gasped noisily, and the words flew from her stretched little throat: "Gott im Himmel!"

Moretti burst into laughter, but the shepherd paid him little mind. Fire burned under his hide, and his arms ached with a certain kind of relieved exhaustion. He was buried completely inside her-- deeper even than he'd managed to get with his lover. She hadn't been able to take all of him, and-- and... his eyes widened. "Moretti! I-- I think I broke her!" He looked up. "I... kind of... punched through something!"

The buck's laughter eased somewhat, if only to be replaced with a certain quietude that might have been... awe? "You... really? Well, I guess if anyone was gonna..." He cleared his throat. "You didn't break her. You just pushed all the way into her womb..." He smiled a hint. "Well, kind of a combined womb-stomach. It's where she stores and digests all the spunk she gets, you know? I've heard of big guys pushing into it, but... I never thought that..." He shook his head a little. Clearing his throat, he smiled again. "How's it feel?"

The corporal had to take a moment to be sure he could handle it before he shifted the doll up, dragging her off him a couple inches and grinding in again. He drew a deep breath as the waves of sweet sensation clouded his mind, making words difficult. "She's so tight... there's this ring that almost hurts, but it's... good.. and past that... slippery smooth, like oiled glass. But it's... wonderful... she's squeezing at me, stroking over me, but it's so smooth I can barely tell, just... amazing..."

He gasped again, and dragged her up for another firm stroke. Her canal was a sleeve of sweet, textured flesh, massaging over his thick, twitching length, dragging deliciously over him with every pull and push, and each time his head popped out of her womb, the texture was overwhelming. It seized and swirled around him, overstimulating him until he had to plunge past that tight ring of resistance again, and punch into her womb. There, he could feel the pressure of her insides resisting him, pushing aside and straining around his size, but it was so impossibly smooth, his cockhead twitched with electric tingles at the slightest sensation. It was the most bizarre contrast, between her sex clutching at most of his length and her deepest chamber teasing incessantly at his tip. If he hadn't punched through, he would have climaxed almost instantly, but like this... it was worse. He could swear he was cumming any second, but it never quite happened. His teeth bared, his breath caught, his muscles seized... but he just kept going. It was so wonderful, so terribly pleasurable that it pained him. But he couldn't stop, and he couldn't bring himself to draw enough to allow sweet relief.

"Well... do you mind if I...?" The buck's voice snapped the shep from his trance a moment, at least enough for him to actually see the world again.

"Wh...? Oh. Go... ahead." The words creaked like groaning timber, and his breath rolled hot from his throat as he clutched at the doll, letting her lean back again.

"Good lord..." The buck muttered as he eased the doll's shoulders back. The further back she angled, the more visible it became: a massive swell in her belly, pushing right up between her breasts. As she neared a proper angle to take the buck, one could make out the broad ridge of the shepherd's cockhead through her hide, and his shaft visibly strained through her strangely stretchable body all the way down to her wide-spread lips. The doll groaned and muttered something in German, reaching up with a greedy smile to stroke over the monstrous, phallic swell in her belly.

Brown shivered, clutching her tighter as those little fingers sent a series of tingling little ripples in that taut flesh down his length. "Hff... she's quite the... talented creature..." The canine admired with a brusque smile. This had to be it, he thought. He'd managed to survive, teetering on the edge thanks to the tantalizing smoothness of her deepest interior giving him just the gentlest stimulation... but if she started to stroke him through her own hide, he was gone. Out of the park, out of the state. He knew it. He swallowed, and just held her in place, managing to restrain himself to a slow, desperate grind of his hips. It was all his knot would allow-- it was swollen to its full, cruel girth, locking the softly moaning doll tightly in his lap.

"I'll say...!" The buck chuckled, unaware of the shep's plight, and pulled the doll's head back from her grinning reverie to make proper use of her mouth. He shoved in, and set to humping that cute little face roughly, his own lusts seeming quite reignited. Two little paws clutched to his shaft through that tight-stretched flesh, stroking up and down as she was shoved tight into his lap under the pressure of the buck's hungry rutting.

It was when her fingers caught on his crown. That thick ridge protruding from her hide was a prime target, and ten little fingers closed on it, catching the edge as if to pull him deeper. The sudden, hungry press of that slick flesh, biting in against one of the most sensitive spots across the entirety of the canine's massive phallus sent a lightning bolt down his shaft, landing square in his balls. His head flared, shoving into those little paws, his breath caught, his claws dug into her sides, and two heavy orbs flexed up against her underside.

The groan threw his head back, and the canine's hips jutted up, shoving the doll into the buck's crotch in return as her womb bloated abruptly with a single searing jet of dog seed. The second wad made a visible swell in her middle, obscuring his cockhead under those fingers. The third overflowed, seed washing down his length. And judging by the buck's sudden shudder, up the other way as well. The canine snarled out breathily, hips grinding up, churning his knot around her insides, a great, fat lump in her pelvis grinding this way and that, surging up out of her front now and again.

Soon, despite his knot, seed was seeping down into his sheath, and soaking his sack underneath. The doll gurgled thickly, and the buck yelped, jumping back a little as a thick gob of cream washed from her mouth, spilling down the front of his pants. "Pent up, were you?" The buck effected a frown, but he couldn't hold back the laughter. "You owe me a new fuckin' pair o' pants!"

The shepherd managed a breathy laugh. "Sorry..." He had been pent up indeed-- but that horrible, wonderful center of hers had brought every ounce of him to the ready, and then milked it all out of him relentlessly. And even so, he was still hard. The doll dragged her head up slowly, and her face was coated with his seed, with more of it rolling around in her mouth. She smiled, and it leaked from her mouth at the corners. "I guess she's done for tonight...?"

"Nah, she should absorb it pretty quick. Assuming you haven't managed to drown something what doesn't breathe!" He chuckled briskly, scuffing a boot at the mess she'd made on the floor. Sure enough, in a few moment, the swell in her belly was noticeably smaller, and she'd licked half her face clean. Her mouth was still rather creamy, but the buck shrugged and pulled her back to slide down that neck again-- he seemed eager to get a finish on his fourth and get to work on his fifth.

By the time the shep's knot had eased, he was well into another rut, and the doll's belly had only barely disappeared --partly thanks to the buck's thick contribution-- before Brown let loose again with a thick moan. She swelled grandly in his lap, managing to mostly contain his second load, and the two worked her over for the better part of the night, occasionally switching sides while the others wandered off to their sleeping bags.

In fact, the two found themselves groggy and exhausted on the rough stone floor, the doll clinging to Brown's belly, when the explosions started early the next morning.

Brown was on his feet before he realized he wasn't dreaming. Moretti groaned, rubbing his head, and Brown already had a gun. He dropped Private Apple Pie in the buck's lap. "Watch the dolls!" And with that, he was out the door.

They were inside the city. They had armor rolling down the main road, maybe elsewhere. They hadn't come through here yet, but they were close. Brown's heart was pounding in his ears as he bolted down the streets, barely slowing when the stones twisted away under his feet. He was alive. He was so damned alive!

Men died. He found a handful of krauts taking shelter in the remaining corner of a building, exchanging fire across the street. None of them even looked up until he had a knife in their commander. A roar swelled as they turned, and curved into a howl as the last of them fell. He was so goddamned alive! His blood surged behind his eyes, his lips curled back, and he was gone.

Around a corner, and there was a rifle pointing at him. His eyes flared wide, and his trigger finger tightened. A hawk crumpled with a shriek, and others rose, guns swinging around. Brown hurled himself behind a wall, which shook under the beating of a dozen rounds. His chest swelled absurdly in front of him with every breath. So... alive, and here, in every moment. A grenade. He didn't even know where he'd gotten it, or when. He pulled the pin, and he stared at it. Death stared back with an ugly, green grin, and he met it with eyes drilling in with the force of his surging heartbeat. He twisted and threw, and the grenade never landed-- it burst in midair, right next to one unfortunate gecko's head. He moved in to check for survivors-- when a cry rose.

It was just another scream-- they came and went when the riot of gunfire quieted long enough. But this one was... a girl's voice. Gravel flew as he abruptly changed direction. He must have come around in a circle-- now that he looked, he wasn't far from the building they'd spent the night in. He scrabbled down an alley, over a great pile of debris to find Moretti-- huddled behind half a wall, clutching the two struggling dolls. A glance up, and the shep ducked, rolling down behind the wall with him. Two or three krauts were across the way, and they looked like they were getting ready to storm over. The buck couldn't offer much discouragement-- his hands were full with the dolls.

Blondi was screaming in German, waving one arm zealously and trying to cover herself with the other, of all things. And strangely enough, Private Apple Pie was also struggling to get around and at the troops, yelling something about vanquishing the German menace once and for all.

"'Bout fuckin' time! Gimme a--" The buck cut off as the shep popped up long enough to pepper the advancing troops with fire, one of them falling while the others retreated.

"Aren't dolls supposed to hide during combat?" Words felt strange in Brown's mouth right now, but he persisted, panting heavily. "More valuable than ten of us put together, all that?"

"Yeah! Gods know what this one's thinking, but--" he yelped when the little retriever suddenly slipped free of his grip, and started running across the street. "Shit! Oy!!"

Brown jumped the broken wall with a snarl. The doll's nearing cries brought up the soldiers' heads, and he put an end to them with a few controlled bursts. He turned back to shout at the private. "Get her--!" The wall overhead exploded. Brown dived to one side as boulders rained down, covering his head and rolling for what could pass for cover. A thick rumble persisted as the debris settled. Armor.

He was trapped. Buried in debris past the waist, and his legs probably broken. He could barely tell which direction it was coming from, but he could hear the whir of the cannon adjusting. He should have lay still and pretended to be dead, but he was still just... so... alive. His head whipped around, and he saw the cannon bear down. Who wasted a shell on a single man?

Thunk. An odd, metal sound. Thunk. The tank jerked. The jarring crash of twisting metal announced the tank rearing up, and back, its front plating twisted around a single massive dent. In that moment, he saw a girl, a wee little golden retriever, one fist raised exultantly toward the sky. Crushed and mangled, but a fist of glory and American pride. He knew, in that moment, that he was going to see his precious Julia again, and he would treat her just as she deserved as long as he was alive.

For Moretti, this was also a moment of revelation-- that there was something incredible in the magics that propelled these living dolls, that their incredible efficiency of energy went further than he'd ever imagined. That America had only begun to tap into the potential of the Sugardoll. That somehow, Brown had just beaten a tank with his dick, and that in a way, that really didn't surprise him. That it was the best and the worst thing he'd ever done, to tell this little girl to punch as hard as she could.