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Fleabag and FANG

an /adhg/ story

by Kraut Fox Anon (with help from Steele)

tags: femdom, military, verbal abuse/insults, male human/female anthro, wrestling, lima syndrome

Synopsis: two jaded veterans from opposite sides of the North American conflict of 2008 find out they have more in common than they'd ever thought, and learn that after the rest of the world has abandoned them, the only thing they truly have left is each other.

“Four more hours to go" Asche muttered, twirling the cigarette between her fingers. “These days seem to stretch on forever"

“Tell me about it" Stahl, the massive snow leopard beside her muttered, flicking a butt away. “Can't wait until I can go on paternity leave"

“I came here to get my fucking rocks off to some pathetic human males" Asche continued as she watched the near naked, dust-coated males worked in gangs to shunt the carts of white mineral up to the loading areas. “Thought I'd have the perfect posting. But no, these stupid submissive humies have to ruin even the fun for me" she turned and glared at a bunch of prisoners who worked the lithium cart. They visibly straightened when they saw her, their jaws dropping as they gazed over her body with puppy dog eyes, nearly salivating at the sight of her.

“Oh Gottverdammt go back to fucking work" the vixen sighed, brandishing her PDW at the sweat soaked prisoners. “Stop drooling over me and move that fucking cart."

The humans nodded; whispering and shooting her glances as they continued to manhandle the cart of minerals.

“For fucks sake. I did three years in the Fallschrimjaeger and this is what I get. No human BF, no family, no house of my own and nothing but these pathetic mongrels fawning about"

“Hey, it's not as much as it's made out to be. I love my Annette, but she's still a hooker. Whore born and bred. We're destined for trash."

“You have to remember that all humans are whores," Asche muttered miserably “But I get what you're saying. Nobody with any prospects in life gets given Lithium mine duty." she threw the butt away and gave the leopard a nod. “I can't believe I fucking volunteered for this scheiße… I'm going on the rounds. See if I can grab something to drink."

The other soldier sighed and tipped his head before withdrawing another cigarette.

Asche walked along the gravel paths, slinging her PDW across her back as she watched the hundreds strong slave gangs shovel the mounds of white lithium carbonate out of the mining carts to be loaded onto cargo trains destined for the refinery. They wore dirty overalls or just their underwear, rarely with some worn and dirty clothes from their lives before the mines. When Asche stalked her way between the tracks, the males turned to shoot her hoarse whistles and coos.

“Oh go and eat a cock you fucks!" she snapped, shooting them the finger, resisting that dark urge to unload her PDW at the bastards on full auto before turning it on herself. “Get back to work, all of you, you fucking pathetic shitstains."

They all did as was asked though she could definitely make out the sexual mutters of “Yes mommy" and other assorted degenerate signs of obedience. It made her gag. Why couldn't she find a strong, rebellious male? That's what the mines were supposed to be for, punishment for those who refused to submit, yet all she saw were broken submissive husks who still had years left in their sentences and probably wouldn't survive a day without an anthro girl taking care of them once they returned to the surface. They disgusted her, simps and whores the lot of them.

She trudged her way along to the dilapidated square hut that was the mess and pushed inside, filling her canteen with water and looking at the few other guards lounging around or eating. Her big vulpine ears swiveled and listened in on the various conversations going on. A coyote and a goat were sitting at one of the tables, shooting the breeze.

“...the husband and I are thinking of going to New York on vacation next month, what should we do? I've got most of the days planned out, but I'm still sure there's room for more than Central…"

“Hey, Ixnay on the Uniteday atesStay. You're gonna trigger the Hundeswehr Dyke's PTSD."

Asche turned around and snarled. “Oh fuck you. I am not a dyke!"

“Sure you aren't. Then why haven't you settled down with a human yet? The mine is full of 'em," the goat teased.

“Because none of them are good enough for me." The vixen said.

“You know, you're never gonna find a human with your impossible standards, Feldjäger," said the coyote.

She huffed, finishing filling up her canteen with hot water and mixing in a packet of 'spray dried instant coffee, type II' before storming off back into the mines. She thought up a scalding retort and turned around to yell it at the 'yote while walking away, when she bumped straight into one of the prisoners she hadn't even noticed, shoveling lithium chunks into some sacks for transport.

“Watch where you're fucking going, you overgrown piece of mangy filth. I already have to shovel your stupid fucking lithium, you could at least do me the fucking solid of not making me spill it everywhere, fleabag!" The prisoner grunted at her.

Asche paused, used to the submissive mewls for forgiveness and the begging for her not to beat them up or step on their dick. This… was different. This was actual resistance and disobedience. She looked down at the human prisoner, folding her arms under her chest and snorting air in his face.

He wasn't anything special. Caucasian, 5'11, 175 lbs give or take, wearing a beaten old BDU jacket over the prison overalls. She recognized the DUI unit badge on the jacket as belonging to the 124th Infantry Regiment, part of the Florida Army National Guard, which caused her fur to bristle at the sight.

“What, you aren't gonna apologize, Fleabag? You raised in a barn? Of course you were, you fucking animal." The Prisoner muttered, picking up his shovel. “You just gonna stand there looking mad and stewing, or you gonna hurry up and beat me and get it over with? My Time's valuable too, I gotta quota to meet."

Asche stared at him. “Are you for real?"

“What?" He glared back, shoveling the ore. “The fuck'd you mean by that, you overgrown chicken coop raider?"

“Are you actually this disobedient, or are you just trying to get mommy fox to step on your junk like the weak ass beta male all you humans are?"

He spat at her paws. “Use your fucking dumb ass furry brain and figure it out, bitch."

“I like you. You're different." She smirked at him. “Every other human knows it's place. But you… You have to be taught it." She picked him up by the collar of his jacket, her strength enough to lift him off his feet with only a small level of exertion. “Well consider school in session."

“Unhand me! I know my rights! You're only allowed to use the baton, you unwashed mutt!" The Human grunted, grabbing her wrist and trying to squirm free from her grip.

“You're saying you'd rather I beat you with a baton than with my bare hands? Because the former is more painful." Asche raised a brow. “...also, you know that rule is for the good behavior cases in Blocks A and B, right? Welcome to C Block."

“I can still take whatever you piece of shit furbags can dish out. I know you're not allowed to kill me."

“Why would I want to kill you, FANG?" She snorted in disdain. “I've already done enough of that for a lifetime."

“Fang? My name is…"

“Gott, and you think I'm dumb? You're Florida Army National Guard. I noticed the jacket, shitbag." The vixen cut him off, pinning him against the wall of the cave. “Or should I say you were. That's an old Uniform. They switched to ACU after the War."

“What's it to you, you flea ridden doormat?" He grunted.

“I was in the second wave at Daytona, FANG." Asche lowered him so he was only a few inches off the ground before she dropped him. “We were enemies once."

“We still are." He glared up at her, shakily getting to his feet.

“The war is over, FANG... Just get back to shovelling lithium." She sighed, turning away to head back to her post. “Consider this a warning."

“Should have killed every last one of you mutts at Daytona or died trying…" He grumbled under his breath, watching the massive fox hybrid walk off down the mineshaft. “...Why'd I have to surrender like a coward?"

Her trip back to Checkpoint C was uneventful. Asche returned to her post, leaning against the outermost chain link fence that separated C block from D block, sipping coffee from her canteen. She tried to clear her head from her earlier encounter and just settle back into guarding a glorified pile of rocks.

“That was a long coffee break for you, Feldjäger." The leopard next to her finally spoke up after a few minutes of silence. “People in the mess giving you shit again?"

“Oh. I uh... tripped over a human on the way back… and… I think I like them."

“You like a human?" Stahl asked incredulously. “I thought I'd never see the day."

“Well… like like? I'm not sure," she muttered, kicking an empty cardboard cigarette box across the dusty floor. “He was different. Strong still… at least somewhat. Still had a fire in him that I haven't seen since the war."

“Really? He sounds like trouble to me," the leopard scoffed. “Can't trust those defiant types. The ones who still believe, and I mean really believe in 'the cause' are hard cases. They'll stab you in the throat with a penknife while you sleep given the slightest chance"

“Like he could even get a scratch on me." She scoffed. “He's still a human."

“Tell that to Horst and Zaloga…" He scowled. “Hell, you were in Florida, you of all people should know what kind of violence and backstabbing they're capable of."

“I've also been in these gottverdammt mines for the past 8 years, without so much as a single major incident. They work, they learn to submit, they get sent back into society, and then they find some big anthro mommy to take care of them and keep them in their place. " Asche said.

“Just be careful. I don't want you getting hurt. You're the closest thing I've got to a friend down here. Just think of how dull my shifts would be without being able to listen to you bitching!" The snow leopard laughed.

“Aww. Thanks for your concern, but I can take care of myself. You really don't need to worry about this human. I could snap him like a twig if he tries anything."

“If you say so, Asche." The leopard shook his head.

The rest of the shift was boring and passed without incident, Asche and Stahl talking shit back and forth. The large German vixen took the leopard with her on one last patrol sweep to ensure that every prisoner was accounted for and on the transports back up to their bunkhouses on the surface. As she made her way through the empty mineshafts, she couldn't help but think about the human she had met earlier; the defiance in his eyes, the fighting spirit within him. Asche needed nothing more in the world to make him hers, and hers alone. Even if she had to break him to do so.

“How do I get a human, Stahl?" She broke the silence as they rounded a corner, PDWs drawn.

“You grab them and put them into a mating press until they stop struggling." The leopard bemused.

“I'm being serious! How do you get a human to like you? You married Annette, you have to know." She huffed.

“You're not still still thinking about this 'FANG' character, are you?" He shook his head.

“Of course I am. He's exactly the kind of human I've been looking for all these years." Asche said.

“Well, If you really want to know… Every guard in this facility has probably treated him like shit or avoided him, because he's a disobedient little prick. He's probably so starved for kindness and attention that if you're even the slightest bit nice to him, or talk to him a lot, you'll set yourself apart." Stahl told her. “Also keep marking him with your sweat so any other girls back off. And be ready to fight for him if they don't."

“Thanks, you're the best." She patted the smaller leopard on the back.

“I know I am." He bragged.

Asche pulled out her radio as they finished their sweep. “Blutsauger actual reporting. C Block's clear, we'll be at the surface access in five, over."

“We copy, see you in five." The radio crackled, and the two headed to the surface access together. Asche stepped on the elevator, put in her earphones, and let the world fade away to the sound of 38 Special.

“I'm gonna go talk to him." Asche said. It was the following afternoon, and now seemed as good a time as any to take her break.

“I still think it's a bad idea, Feldjäger." Stahl warned. “You know nothing about this human other than he was your enemy during the war. For all you know, he was one of the people that tried to kill you."

“For all I know I was one of the people that tried to kill him." She said, stretching and holstering her PDW.

“And that is different how?" The leopard asked. “Please explain to me."

“Halt die klappe, Stahl." She shushed him, walking away from the checkpoint. “And hold down the fort while I'm on the rounds."

The vixen walked her way down the mineshafts, her eyes wandering over the gangs of human prisoners as they went about their business, trying to locate her quarry. She shoved past a group of humans that scurried to get out of her way and begged for her forgiveness for being in 'Mommy's' way, eliciting an eye roll from her. Asche finally found him carving away at a chunk of lithium carbonate with a pick, away from the other prisoners, grumbling and cursing under his breath.

"You again? The fuck do you want, Fleabag? I'm meeting my god damn quota and minding my own business." He grunted at her. "So I'd appreciate it if you'd mind yours."

"Would you believe me if I said I wanted to waste my lunch break talking to your simian ass, FANG?"

"My name isn't FANG, it's…" He protested.

She cut him off. "Prisoner 8732B. FANG is shorter."

"You really don't care what my real name is, do you?"

"Do you care that my name isn't 'Fleabag', FANG?"

"Point Taken, Fleabag. So what, you want to talk to me? You have god damn shit heaps of so called 'men' who want nothing more than attention from some overgrown mangy mutt like you, why bother with me?" He turned around to face her.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm being nice to you because I like your rebellious nature? How unlike everyone else down here, you don't take scheiße from anyone." Asche stroked his hair, much to his dismay. "It's admirably stubborn."

“No." FANG replied. “I wouldn't. Because even though you mangy fucks try to put on this thin veneer of civility, deep down every last one of you are animals and monsters. You're just trying to encourage it so that you can laugh when your friends beat the shit out of me."

“Bold of you to assume I have enough friends to use the plural version of the word. And why would I have my friend beat you when I could do it myself?" Asche asked, giving him a noogie.

“Can you please stop touching me? Why are you guards all so handsy?" He tried to fend off her petting, to no avail. “So what, you're lonely? Big ugly killing machine wants friends, so she decides to go torment the one human she didn't murder and let slip away?"

“Look… I'm sorry about the Police Action." She withdrew her hand, squatting on the floor to be face to face with him. “I was in the Hundeswehr reserves for the benefits right out of highschool. I wasn't paying attention to whatever political bullshit was going on across the Atlantic. Next thing I know America has plunged into a civil war, and because of a bunch of treaties that were signed before I was born NATO got involved. Trust me, the last thing I wanted was to be there."

“The last thing anyone wanted was to be there, mutt. You European fucks shouldn't have even gotten involved, it was an American conflict, you should have let us settle it." FANG sighed.

“We couldn't. America is too big for anything to happen in a vacuum. The Russians and the Chinese wanted to take advantage of the chaos, we needed America back to normal and our side to keep them on their short leash." Asche tore open a retort pouch and pulled out a shelf stable sandwich. “Want some?"

“..." He looked at the sandwich, and then snatched it out of her paw, stuffing it into his mouth greedily.

“I said some, not all." She sighed. “And you say we're animals."

“You are animals." FANG said between mouthfuls of sandwich. “I wouldn't be stealing your sandwich if you fuckers fed us better."

“Not something I can change." She frowned, patting him on the head.

“What did I just say about touching me, mongrel?" He huffed.

“Nothing that'd stop me from doing it, that's for sure." The Vixen teased him, giving him a noogie. The human tried to shove her arm away, and was able to move it just enough to stop the onslaught of her grabby paws. “Oooh, you got some fight in you still. Just how I like 'em."

“Cut it out, you walking carpet! I'm trying to work!" He protested.

“Whatever even got your panties in such a twist, FANG? It's been 8 years, you can't still be bitter about…"

“Shut up." He cut her off with a glare so murderous that it almost had her instinctively reaching for her sidearm. “Shut the fuck up, before you say anything we both regret."

“You're not the only one it broke, FANG." She looked him in the eyes. “Every vet has scars, some of them just aren't visible."

“Look, just… talk about something else, Mutt." He said, looking down at the ground to avoid her gaze.

“What'd you do before all this?" She asked. “The mines, the fighting, everything."

“I was a normal guy," he said, his voice both nostalgic and tinged with bitterness. “I drove taxis. Went to bars. Hung out with friends and played video games. Hell, I'd even met a girl before you guys showed up. I think we were in love."

"I'm sorry, FANG," Asche said, frowning at him and dodging the subject of a past lover. "So... A taxi driver, huh?"

“Yeah." He nodded. “The National Guard was only one weekend a month. I needed to do something else to make money in the meantime."

“I was gonna go into business myself, but... well, it wasn't exactly cheap and I didn't do well enough in school to qualify for free college," she said. “I was straight out of secondary school, needed a paycheck and good benefits, so I signed up."

"Then the 'War' started?" He asked.

She nodded, before trying to change the subject away from the war again. “So… How exactly do you even pass the time down here? It's boring as fuck and I'm a guard, who access to way more things to keep myself occupied than you prisoners do."

“Think, Mostly. Read, when in the bunkhouse. I don't talk with anyone because the other prisoners are vapid fucking retards and I hate all of you furry fucks."

“Do you hate me?" Asche looked at him, tilting her head.

“Yes... You are still a smelly, dirty animal who destroyed my life and everything good in it. But..." He sighed at her, before admitting, “I hate you less than the other guards."

“You can't hate forever, FANG. Trust me, I've tried." She told him. “Keeping it inside will just burn you up."

“It's the only thing keeping me warm down here." FANG muttered.

The vixen paused for a second, bemused. “Was that a fucking Red Dawn reference? Patrician choice, but no wonder you were a filthy guerilla."

“You may be a stupid authoritarian bitch, but at least you have a good taste in movies." He cracked a smirk. “Not enough to make me stop hating you, though."

“Look… I can tell you want me to leave you alone right now, and I will. My break is almost up, but one last thing before I go. Don't piss off any of the other guards, please. I couldn't live with myself if I let you get beat into a coma." Asche told him, getting back up to leave. “You're more interesting than just about every other human in this mine, so stay safe."

“Well, you're the least repulsive fleabag of your whole dirty race," he said, before muttering under his breath. “Finally she leaves."

A few hours had passed, and Asche was once again doing the task that took up so much of her daily routine: shooting the shit with Stahl.

“So how'd it go? You went and talked to him earlier, didn't you?" The leopard asked.

“I think I'm getting to him." The fox mused. “He called me the 'least repulsive fleabag' and told me that out of all the guards he hates, he hates me the least. So… It's a start."

“If that's your definition of a start, you must really be desperate." Stahl laughed.

“Can it." She huffed. "I like him. And I'm gonna make him like me."

"Just how do you intend to do that, Feldjãger?" He asked, before being cut off by the buzz of the radio.

Bzzzt-ring reports of a prisoner altercation with a guard in C block, over. Anyone free go check it out, see if backup is required.

"10 Dollars American says it's him.." The leopard told her.

"I don't take bets that I know I'm going to lose, Stahl. Hold down the fucking fort." She pulled out her radio. "Blutsauger actual investigating, Over."

Asche ran down the mineshaft as quickly as her legs would carry her, weaving through prisoners in her path. She stopped to find a few guards watching Miranda, a Jaguaress, kicking a twitching and curled up FANG. He looked like he'd already been tasered and gut punched before she'd arrived, and yet the Jaguar was still going at him. The vixen could feel the rage building within her, but didn't immediately lash out.

"What the fuck kinda mickey mouse scheiße do you think you're doing? You've already beaten him into submission, fucking restrain him already, dummkopf!" She demanded, folding her arms under her chest.

“What? I'm just showing this pendejo human his place, since he clearly doesn't know it, zorra." Miranda said, a cruel smirk on her face. "No one gets to talk to me like that, and I'm making sure he remembers it!"

“You better restrain him or I will." The german vixen snarled, her eyes narrowing. “That's an order!"

“I never thought you were much of a stickler for the rules, puta," the jaguar mused. “What's it to you? He's just another worthless human."

“Oh, I'm a stickler for the unwritten ones of this facility… Let. Him. Go. Miranda."

“I don't think I quite know which one you're referring to, Dyke." She said.

“Oh, I think you do. The unwritten rule every guard knows to follow. Give me the fucking prisoner. Last. Warning."

“Why don't you educate me once I'm done with this culo?" The jaguar said, punctuating the sentence by kicking the prisoner hard in the gut once more.

Something in Asche snapped, and she lunged at the other guard, “Schweinehündin!" She roared as he headbutted the Jaguar. “Du fickst nicht!" She then followed up with a gut punch to Miranda's abs. “Mit dem menschen eines anderen Mädchens!" The vixen then swept down low to grab FANG and shield him from the other guard. He flinched as she grabbed him and hoisted him up in her big, strong arms. She turned her head to the recovering feline and growled at her, her tail preparing to sweep the bitch off her feet if she tried anything. “Now if you touch FANG again, I will personally make sure you spend the rest of your career scrubbing latrines. Is that understood, Gefrieter?"

"Who the fuck is FANG?" Miranda asked

“Hell if I know… They'll bloody court martial you, damn crazy kraut." One of the guards watching said.

“Ah yes, I'm sure they'd love to hear about how your friend disobeyed a direct order from a superior officer and how she was disciplined in the field. You lot'll keep your fucking mouth shut about all this." She snorted, walking up to Miranda and helping her to her feet. She ensured FANG stayed out of her reach, the little human currently limp in her arms. “I don't tell them you beat a prisoner far beyond your quota and disobeyed an officer, and you don't tell them you got what you fucking deserved. Deal?"

“Fine… Chinga tu Madre…" Miranda spat.

“As for your earlier question, this particular human is FANG. And he is mine. You wanna have your fun with any other ones while I happen to not be watching? Go ahead. But gott im himmel help you if I find you messing with 8732B again. You do NOT fuck with another girl's humie. If you have a problem with him, you take it to me. I'll ensure he's punished." The Vixen said.

“Wait, fucking dyke has a human?" The other idle guard mused. “I thought you ate carpet."

“Oh fuck off." Asche snorted, carrying off FANG further in the mines to check on him. The vulpine found the little corner of the mine he'd been digging away at earlier in the day. She set him down and started to check him for bruising, unbuttoning his BDU jacket and unzipping the dirty coveralls he wore under them. He looked injured, but from what she knew about human endurance, wasn't permanently damaged.

“...fuck you'd do that for, furball?" FANG finally spoke up, clutching his stomach. He couldn't even look her in the eyes.

“What, Unbutton you? I'm checking to see if you need medical attention, I'm not raping you or anything." Asche said. “Unlike the other guards here, I'm not like that."

“Any of this. Save me. Claim I was yours. I don't need your fucking help, you mangy piece of shit!" FANG said, fighting her off with what little strength the wounded human still had.

“FANG. I'm trying to help you." She tried to reassure him.

“And why are you trying to help? Because you want to make me yours." He said. “You're trying to force yourself on me, fleabag. I'd rather get beaten than that."

“Let me go get Miranda then." She started to get up from where she was kneeling on the ground checking on him.

“Bad dog! Sit! Stay! Heel!" FANG protested, grabbing her leg in an attempt to stop her from leaving. “Okay… Fine. As much as it pains me to admit it, I'd rather have some bitch like you forcing herself on me than be beaten by that jaguar whore. You're better than her, at least..."

“I figured between the two of us you'd pick me, even though I know you don't particularly like me." She said. “But you're gonna."

“You're persistent, I'll give you that, Furball." He sighed. “I have a question for your mangy ass… Several, actually."

“Go ahead."

"So first up, How bad is it? My chest hurts like fuck."

“You'll live, but you're gonna have these bruises for a few days. That's about all I can tell you from what I know about first aid, I had some training in the Hundeswehr but am by no means a doctor." She frowned at him. “You'll need to rest. I don't really have the authority to take you completely out of the mines, but I can forge paperwork to make it look like you're meeting your quotas. I'll still need you to at least pretend to work, though."

“I hate that I'll have to owe you another favor… but thank you, you dirty fuck mothering kraut." He said. “So, I'm curious. About what you said earlier. You know, how I'm the only unruly male in the facility. Surely you're exaggerating… you furry fucks couldn't have taken the fight out of every man."

“Most have it taken out of them in rehabilitation or fake it enough to go back to society. The worst cases are sent to an actual prison… You're rare in that you've managed to get sent to the mine and keep up the act for more than a few days, but not so bad that you've committed any crimes worthy of real prison. That's pretty uncommon, as far as humans go. Say, can I ask you some questions of my own?"

“I suppose it's only fair. Not that anything is fucking fair for humans after you assholes won."

“Are you... scared of me? You flinched when I picked you up to save you from Miranda. And you were shaking the whole walk over here." Asche said, petting his hair as she leaned him against the wall of the cave, sitting him up. “I know you're probably struggling with anthros because of the war, but… I'm not gonna hurt you, FANG. Last thing I want is to break the only worthwhile humie in here."

“Me? Scared? Of you? Ha!" He laughed for a second, before wincing in pain and prompting Asche to check on him. “Okay, yeah, a bit. You're imposing, even for an anthro, mutt." He pointed up at her horns weakly. “What, your mom didn't think a human was good enough for her, had to go and fuck a goat?"

“Dragon." Asche corrected. “Dad was a dragon."

“So what, I'm the princess you're trying to kidnap? Fuckin' 'ell. Okay, it's my turn for a question. What's with all the other guards calling you a dyke, you filthy mongrel? You're clearly interested in me, a male." FANG asked. "There any reason, or are they just talking shit like soldiers do? Because they should atleast be calling you proper insults; like the mange ridden, half breed, overgrown, authoritarian, Nazi bitch you are. Though you seem pretty defensive over being called Dyke"

"First of all, you're thinking of the wrong authoritarian regime that caused the suffering of millions; thank you very much. I was born in the DDR, you're off by like 50 years." Asche corrected him.

"Aren't you only like 30? Or are you some old fucking hag, furball?"

"Nah, I'm 29. I was born after the Berlin wall fell, but before unification was official and modern Germany was a thing. Reunification was in October, I was born in June."

"So you're an authoritarian commie bitch, huh? Gonna put that in my insult toolbox, chicken thief. Now tell me why everyone calls you a carpet munching lesbo dyke, before I jump on the bandwagon."

"Fine. Fucking hell..." She sighed. "So during the war in Florida, at what you'd call my FOB, we had a Hyena Comms officer. Male, kinda chubby, lactose intolerant. So because he was lactose intolerant he had a bunch of that wunderbar sweetened condensed milk tubes and the jalapeno cheese spread from captured US MREs. You know the latter I'm sure."

"God, I'd fucking lick your rank ass fox cunt for some MRE jalepeno cheese right now." FANG muttered under his breath.

"Hey, I keep it clean! But yeah, imagine what a girl like me would do for an ammunition box stuffed with 30 pouches and 35 tubes of condensed milk. Plus... you know, fat as he was, he was probably the best looking source of dick I had access to without stooping to using a human 'comfort boy'." She spat the last two words, disgusted by them.

"So what's that have to do with being a dyke?"

"You know how rare male furs are, right? There's only 3 in this facility, and there's more female furs pretending to be dudes than male furs in the wild." She said. "Plus, female yeens have that whole fake dick thing going on too. Put two and two together."

"Oh. OH. Well. We've all done things we're not proud of for MRE cheese, mutt. That's war."

“What, you have a similar tale?"

“Not talking about it."

“Seems unfair to me, I talked about mine."

“I will talk about literally anything else, you fluffy whore." He huffed, trying to fold his arms before realizing it hurt too much to do. “Also, what was that about female furs pretending to be male furs in the wild?"

“It's my turn to ask a question. I'll tell you after."

“Bitch."

“I'm a vixen, not a bitch, FANG." She mused, sitting down next to him. “So… Did you mean what you said the other day? About hating me."

“I did say I hated you less than everyone else, mutt."

“Which sorta implies you like me."

“No, it implies I hate you less than everyone fucking else, you dumbass."

“Which means you like me more than everyone else. Schachmatt."

“Fine. I tolerate your fucking presense, you hairy monster. Is that good enough for you?"

“I'll take it... I used to be a lot like you, you know." She said, helping him put his Jacket back on, slipping his arms through the sleeves. She took a good long look at the 127th Infantry badge, brushing some of the dust from it. “Hated humans who fought back against us. Humans like you. Thought you were the scum of this earth, responsible for all the atrocities committed during the conflict."

“And what changed?" FANG asked her.

“I know better now. I know that you were just like me. Scared. Young. Fighting in some bullshit war that some politician you didn't even know got you into. Just trying to protect your home." Asche pulled him into her lap, and started buttoning his jacket for him.

“Yeah… I guess you're not wrong, fleabag." He grunted as she picked him up. “That hurts you know…"

“Everything's gonna hurt for a little while. I'm just softer than hard rock lithium carbonate. I figure you'll feel better with something soft to lie on while you recover."

“Yeah, like a bed. Not a smelly fucking kraut."

“I'm the best you got, asshole." She licked his ear. “You can ask your question now."

“You heard it just fine the first time with those big ass ears."

“Well, long story short, sometimes flat chested females who are single will pretend to be males to catch humans off guard. They figure it's easier to become a bro than a girlfriend, and it would be hard for their human to turn them down if they've become good friends already."

“What the fuck is wrong with you anthros?"

“Hell if I know. I'm not nearly flat chested enough to pull it off."

“Yeah, I'll say, you fucking bimbo. Are those fat ass things even natural?"

“Your head is resting on them, do they feel fake?"

“Like I know what anthro tits are supposed to feel like."

“Well, allow me to educate you..." The vixen grinned, her fluffy draconic tail coming around from behind her and slowly wrapping itself around his legs. She pressed her breasts against him as she leaned in to whisper into his ear. “...they're supposed to feel like this."

“Hey, can you cut that out, you mutt?"

“It's not your turn for a question, prisoner." Asche smirked, before leaning further in and forcibly giving him a kiss. Her tongue forced its way into his mouth, and she only withdrew it when she felt him struggling for air.

“Didn't you just fucking say you weren't trying to rape me, Fleabag? Unbelievable." FANG caught his breath, holding his chest and panting.

“Please, last I checked that's sexual harassment at most. Plus I'm pretty gottverdammt sure I earned at least a kiss, saving your ass and all."

“Yeah, well let's see how you like it, you mangy beast." He muttered, turning around and returning the kiss with a quick peck on the side of her snout.

“Hey! I'm supposed to be one the one doing the kissing here. You're my weak little soon to be boyfriend, not the other way around." She blushed fiercely and pulled him closer to her chest.

“Did you actually have another question or can I ask my last one?"

“Yeah, I did have one more…" Asche said, reaching down and stroking the side of his face. “So… what you said about MRE cheese and eating me out. Were you serious?"

“Okay, now you are trying to rape me."

“I'm not trying to rape you, I'm trying to exchange goods for services."

“So the fucking commie understands free market capitalism."

“I'm just saying, I'm a guard, I can get you food. Like, actual food, not the scheiße we feed prisoners. You liked that sandwich I gave you, right?"

“I am not going to whore myself out for food, you mutt." He huffed. “And you mean the one I stole?"

“You just implied that you would not even five minutes ago. And yes."

“I mean… I would appreciate the gesture of being given food. That was a pretty good sandwich. But I wouldn't exchange it for sex when I have 2 square meals a day, as fucking bland and disgusting as they are."

“Good."

“Good?" FANG looked at her incredulously. “I thought you were trying to exchange cheese for sex for the second time in your life, you filthy cheese whore."

“I don't want the other fucking guards buying their way into your pants with food, you dumbass human. I like that you're not a whore, like every other fucking fleshbag here who'd spread their legs for the first guard to walk up to them."

“You are the first guard who has walked up to me, you dirty animal." He muttered. “But… good to know you're at least protective of me. That means a hell of a lot down here with bitches like Miranda."

“Hey, Anthro girls are supposed to protect their weak little humie boyfriends. It's how the world works." She said, licking the human's greasy hair to try and groom it into shape.

“I guess so. Didn't work that way before you furry fucks won, but it does now." He sighed. “Just… Wish things had turned out differently."

"Hey, just because your little podunk town in Florida didn't have any fluffy girls doesn't mean us being protective is a new invention, doofus. Though it must seem like it if you've only dealt with human females." She said, before frowning and holding him even closer. “Sometimes life deals us a shit hand, and we still have to play it. I'm here in the mines with you, aren't I?"

“Fleabag. You're fucking crushing me." He wheezed, prompting her to stop hugging him so tightly.

“Sorry."

“But Yeah....shit hand indeed. Now I'm rotting in this fucking labor camp until I'm deemed ready for society and you're hitting the bottle like an abusive waifur hits her human for cooking dinner wrong. Shit indeed... “ He looked up at her. “Seriously, do you fucking BATHE in Jägermeister, you overgrown bitch? It's as prevalent as your stank ass musk."

“Why would I bathe in alcohol when I could drink it?"

“Fair 'nuff, Fleabag. Fair 'nuff."

“So… You said you had one more question?" Asche asked, rubbing over his shoulders.

“Yeah… I did, but..." FANG stammered. “I'm… not sure if I really want to ask it anymore. Especially not when I'm in a position where a bitch like you could easily smother me to death."

“That bad, Huh?"

“I was gonna ask you something about the war... But, now I have another question, instead." He said, straightening up. “Why humans? What makes us so desirable?"

“Like, for me, or for everyone?"

“I guess for you first, then in general."

“I've always wanted kids some time in the future." Asche said, rather bluntly. “But I'm a Hybrid… and we only can have children with humans. It's why you've never seen an anthro that was more than two species."

“I've honestly never even seen a Hybrid before you, you half breed mutt."

“Anthros don't wed other anthros often, not when we have squishy little humies like you to play with and fall in love with. When they do, it's even rarer to marry outside your species…" She explained. “But you can't choose who you love. Mutter couldn't help but fall for Vater. More importantly, my dumb ass couldn't help but fall for a piece of work like you."

“Are you implying you love me, you mangy fleabag?"

“Yeah, I am, ya dense motherfucker. You really think I'd be talking to you, much less have stuck my neck out for you, otherwise?"

“I mean... talk to me? Yeah. Risk your neck? No. I wasn't sure about you until you gave that hairy bitch Miranda her just deserts." He chuckled. “Which you certainly did. You're a fuckin' animal."

“I know I am." She said, tracing a claw along some of his old scars. “And so are you, for a human. Almost like we're made for eachother."

“Don't you get all mushy on me, you kraut bastard. Weren't you gonna tell me why Anthros in general want us?"

“I ain't some fucking psychology professor, FANG. I'm a grunt. I don't know why it's a scientific fact that most anthros want a humie." She grumbled. “But if I had to hazard a guess, there's 3 major reasons. Eins, you're cute. Zwei, you're soft. Drei, there's a lot more of your males than our males. Seems like it's just nature taking its course at that point." The draconic hybrid shifted under him, rumbling happily. "Look, I need to get back to my post soon… but I'll let you lay here a little longer. You need rest to recover."

“Earlier I wanted you to leave me alone and you insisted on bugging me. Now that it's the one occasion that I don't want you to leave, you're going? Un-fucking-believable…"

“Hey, I ain't leaving you yet, and I'll be back." She roughed up his hair some more. “You're gonna be getting your spot reassigned once I call in some favors that are owed. It'll put ya right next to checkpoint C, so you'll always be in ear shot."

“Great, I have to be close enough to smell the stinky ass cheese whore? I thought you were doing me a favor."

“I'll be close enough to stop your ass from getting beat again, that's what matters. Hardly be a good girlfriend if I let you get your shit stomped in twice."

“And who said you're my girlfriend, fleabag?"

“I did." She stated assertively. “What're you gonna do about it? I'm the only person that fucking matters to you in this hellhole.."

“What am I gonna do to some bitch like you?" FANG raised a brow, before grabbing one of her nipples and twisting it, eliciting a yelp from the vixen. “Maybe I'll do this."

“You fucker, that hurt!" Asche grumbled, holding her breast.

“Yeah, and so did your hug! I bet your mangy ass still enjoyed that like the hug, too..."

“I swear if your ass wasn't already beat, I'd beat it again, FANG."

“Yeah, but you're not going to." He said smugly.

“I will begrudgingly admit you are safe from a beating right now, if only because I need to get back to the checkpoint." She huffed, gently pulling him out of her lap and setting him against the wall of the mineshaft. “But your ass is getting fucking mate pressed as soon as you're better."

“Bring it on, you furry fuck. I bet you can't even do it without breaking my hips."

“We'll see." She said, standing up and getting ready to leave. “You take care of yourself, you little shit."

“I suppose I would be sad if something happened to your miserable hide. So you better continue being the least awful mutt out there, you kraut bastard." He lazily waved to her.

“So where's my ten quid?" Stahl asked smugly.

“Oh fuck you, I never took that bet you Inselaffe!" Asche huffed at him, settling back in at the checkpoint.

“I jest, Asche. Is he okay?" He asked, “I know I'd be livid if someone hurt Annette."

“To be fair, Annette is also like, 8 months pregnant and a hell of a lot more fragile than some vet from the police action. I'd be fucking pissed if someone hurt her, and I've never even met her." She told the snow leopard. “But, long story short, he got fucking trounced. He should be fine after some rest, though. Humans are pretty verdammt resilient. Had to give that spanish jaguar bitch a fat lip because she can't take a hint or follow orders."

“You punched Miranda?"

“Bitch wouldn't get off him, didn't have a choice."

“Blimey, someone's having a rough day. Can't say the bitch didn't have it comin' though. She's a bloody wanker. At least the rest of the day should be pretty uneventful."

“Amen to that. Gonna be boring as scheiße "

“You take a long rest when we get back to the bunkhouses. You deserve it."

“I fucking will."

Later that night, Asche laid down on her glorified cot to sleep. She pulled the wool blanket over herself, and closed her eyes, going out like a light.

[The next part of the story contains war flashbacks. If you want to skip ahead to traumatized foxes cuddling their human boyfriends to try and feel better, skip to line]

Florida, United States of America - 2008:

Asche had always wanted to go to Florida. It always looked so pretty on postcards or on television… This was not how she ever expected to get to see it. The picturesque Hotels of Daytona Beach were pocked full of holes from a strafing run by Marineflieger Tornado IDSs, the palm trees were on fire, and she was holed up in a convenience store taking small arms fire from a pizzeria across Atlantic Ave.

“OBERGEFREITER FUCHSJÄGER, GET YOUR TAIL UP HERE AND LAY DOWN COVERING FIRE WITH THE ONE FORTY EIGHT!"

“YES MA'AM!" The 19 year old vixen shouted, running up to the store front and placing the bipod of her particle beam weapon on top of an overturned soda machine. She wished she'd been issued something that was better at punching through cover, like a gauss autocannon, but elected to work with what she had. She squeezed the trigger on her MG148 and swept the beam over the windows of the building across the street. “Got three, maybe four contacts, all monkeys! They're keeping their heads down for now!" She reported back to the feldwebel.

“Merkel, get a frag through that window while we have them pinned down!"

“Copy, Frag out!" The Jackal grenadier shouted as she swung around her G86 Gauss Rifle and the underslung HK-EGLM, firing off a 83mm from the latter. It was funny, in movies and vidya, the sound engineers always made grenade launchers sound like a “sha-thunk" type of deal. Asche learned first hand that they instead sounded like an angry, overgrown shotgun. Then was the deafening blast and the shower of glass from the pizzeria across the street. The rubble settled, and there were no signs of movement from the building. She reduced her rate of fire to occasional potshots, but nothing returned fire or even seemed to be stirring within.

“Fuchsjäger, pack it up! We're clearing the Papa John's!"

"Leave it to the Americans to put a pizzeria next to a pizzeria, across the street from a convenience store that sells pizza." She muttered, folding up the bipod and taking her finger off the trigger. She grabbed her weapon and started hightailing it across the abandoned highway, feet crunching on the broken glass and various debris that was liberally strewn over the ground. The rest of the unit followed after her, smoke pluming into the air while jets screeched far overhead. The whole city seemed to be a mess. Daytona Beach.... what an odd name. Still, she reckoned it was a far better deal than the stinking swampland that seemed to cover this entire state. Everything here was dirty and chaotic, filled with all manners of dangerous critters and treacherous terrain - nothing like the well maintained farms and forests of back home in Germany.

“Großvater says that Kilo company has engaged at least a regiment strong of enemy hostiles, they're fresh on the beach and still unloading supplies, reporting enemy artillery fire in support" her radioman reported, one hand to her headset.

“And what do they want us to do?" The feline feldwebel asked the possum.

“Continue clearance but work our way towards them. Maybe catch any enemy reinforcements"

“Jawohl."

The squad carefully approached the Papa Johns, wearily eying up the National Guard M939 truck parked outside. Covering with her MG148, Asche waved the jackal forwards. The soldier dashed ahead, keeping low as she ran to peer through a glassless window.

“Clear!" She yelled back, slinging her G86. “It looks like it was being used as a brief supply stop. Piles of blankets and water bottles inside"

“Leave it" Asche motioned her back. “Nothing of use to us"

“Jawohl, Obergefreiter ma'am!"

“Jeeze, I barely outrank you, Soldat. No need to be so formal."

The jackal ran forwards, panting under her tuck and rejoined the unit. She shot Asche a smile, one that made her snort and shake her head.

“That's not going to get you a medal, Merkel." Asche told her with a grin. “You're going to have to do better than an empty pizzeria. Speaking of empty pizzerias..." The Vixen formed up, taking point and running up to the independent pizza joint next to Papa Johns, her particle beam weapon at the ready. As she looked into the shattered windows, her face fell, snout wrinkling in disgust, and she had to turn away. She vomited into her mouth a little, spitting bile onto the sidewalk. “Mein Gott im himmel… That is… A lot of monkey meat. Feldwebel Schwarz, confirming at least 3 kills from that grenade."

“Roger…" The tigress said. “They'd have done the same to you, Fuchsjäger."

“I… understand, Feldwebel." She nodded.

Onwards they moved, the sun blazing down through the gaps in the smoke plumes. Shelling from American paladins and the Kreigsmarine blasted intermittently in the background, followed by the screeching roar of a low level bombing.

“This heat.... it's ungodly" the comms woman muttered, wrinkling her nose.

“Get used to it, It's fucking December. It'll be worse in the coming months, and you won't be improving it by complaining."

“I know ma'am, but still." she sniffed at the wet patches of her musky armpits and recoiled.

They'd moved onto a main road, one that was piled with empty cars- many stacked with luggage. The occupants must have fled the failed evacuation and taken refuge elsewhere, she reckoned, peering inside one.

“Dumbasses really were taking the beer coolers and six packs with them" laughed another squadmate.

“They're Amerimutts. It's what they're like." agreed another, jabbing at a “Cold Dead Hands" sticker with their barrel “They really must believe this shit."

“You bet. And I don't think they'll realise that a peashooter like theirs won't do Schieße against a G86 or a JDAM"

“Amen to that."

“Kilo Company is recording increasing casualties. The enemy has mortars and 155 field arty engaging them" the comms woman reported as they passed a pair of T-boned haulers, fruit spilling from their cargo holds to rot in the sun.

“What's our fix?" Schwarz asked. The artillery certainly could be heard.

“Two and a half clicks out. Echo Company is pushing through to try and relieve them but they say they're encountering enemy strongpoints and some dug in M60A3s. I asked our Company command but they say we're too spread out to provide a cohesive supporting move"

“The hell we are, Whoever had this idea for squad sweeps this soon after the invasion is a gottverdammt dummkopf!" Asche snapped. “We're lucky that most of the armed civilians with actual balls have fucked off to the rural areas to hold out in. We could be seriously fucked if they wanted us to be."

“I'm just following fucking orders." The Tigress grumbled. “Seemed fucky to me too."

“I thought the Nurembourg trials proved that bad things happen when Germans 'just follow orders'."

“Halt die klappe und stellung nehmen, Fuchsjäger."

“Yes Ma'am."

More artillery rounds thundered in the distance, followed by the scream of missiles and the terrible groan of a collapsing building. Asche shuddered. Urban warfare was something she'd trained for, but never something she expected to see unless the Russians invaded. It was starting to strain her nerves.

They were approaching a junction, whereupon she turned to the Opossum and Tiger.

“Petra, Feldwebel," She told them. “We're approaching the road junction. Signs of previous high civilian activity but no enemy contact yet"

“Understood. Petra, radio in on the PRICK-77." Schwarz said.

“Yes ma'am!" Petra nodded, fluttering her large brown eyes. “Reporting in." she activated the large communications set on her pack and relayed the information as the group ground to a halt. Right as she did so, the air was split by the thunder of a .50 calibre M2.

The burst was well aimed and precise. The heavy rounds stitched about them, spraying chunks of asphalt into the air as Asche went to dive for cover, tackling Schwarz to the ground. “Get the fuck down!" She shouted back to the comms woman.

It was then when she saw Petra shudder as a round from the burst blew right through her throat in a spray of gore, sending her crashing to the ground.

“Nein!" Asche screamed, climbing off the tigress and scrambling towards the opossum. She reached out and grabbed Petra by the straps,, dragging her along. She reached the cover of a concrete bollard, having left a thick trial of gore in their wake. Hands shaking, she sat Petra upright and tried to stanch the blood-spewing wound.

“You're going to be okay!" She hissed, clamping down as the warm red liquid flowed between her fingers. “We're gonna get you to a medic, and then your lucky ass gets to go back home with your family!" Petra was looking right back at her, tears flowing from her eyes as she nodded. Then those big brown eyes lost focus and the hands that gripped onto Asche's forearms, desperately seeking comfort from the big vixen, fell limply away.

“GOTTVERDAMMT!" Asche screamed, snatching up her Particle Beam and joining the rest of her squad in firing back. The enemy seemed to have dug into a former hair salon, the windows piled with sandbags and barricades. Inside, a Browning M2 blasted away upon a tripod, while other National Guardsmen fired wild shots off with their M5s and M17A3s. “Iss scheiße und stirb, Affenbastarde!" She roared as she squeezed in on the trigger, letting the cyclic fire rate of the particle beam do her talking for her.

“Comms woman, radio for…"

“SHE'S DEAD AND THE PRICK SEVENTY SEVEN HAS BEEN HIT, FELDWEBEL! WE ARE CUT OFF!" Asche snapped at Schwarz, prompting a scowl from the tigress but no comments.

“Lay down covering fire for Scharfschützin Winter, and keep your fucking heads down!" The Feldwebel ordered.

Particle beams scorched the air as the unit fought from cover, peppering the enemy positions. Merkel popped off a 83mm grenade that went wide, taking a large chunk out of a neighbouring building but failing to do serious damage.

Asche snarled, enraged by her comrade's blood that soaked her fingers, blasting away with fury. Bullets whined and sparked about them, punching through the soft-skinned vehicles that they crouched behind. She saw two of her squadmates suddenly dash from cover, scant seconds before the gas tank on their car ignited, into a billowing plume of flames.

“Got the Bastards!" Winter roared, firing off a bolt from her PSG-3 that struck the M2 gunner dead in the forehead. He collapsed and the fire momentarily slackened only for another guardsman to take up the spade grips.

“They're flanking!" One of her squadmates yelled at her, pivoting to shoot at the camouflaged figures crawling atop the rooftops. “There's more of them!"

These soldiers lay prone and fired off rapid shots with their M17A3s, forcing the Hundeswehr to change cover, Asche dragging the lifeless corpse of Petra with her.

“They're encircling us!" Merkel shouted, her head recoiling as a 7x43 round glanced off her helmet. “We need to pull back!"

“Nein!" Schwarz snapped back, reloading her G86. “We need to push through and wipe them out! Kill every last one!" She popped over the bonnet of the SUV and fired off several shots. She watched as one of her troops, a stoat, was blown off her feet as the NG on the flanks fired off their own underslung GLs.

“Push forwards! Drown them in our weight of fire!" Asche roared, getting up and dashing towards a family van and trailer, bullets sparking about her until she reached the cover. Her soldaten were firing back, providing cover as Schwarz joined her, then joined by Scholl.

The weapons fire gutted the dug in positions. The men and women of the Florida National Guard fell to the floor as their squad mates tried to keep up the rate of fire.

Magazines and casings soon coated the linoleum tiles- the barrel of the M2 glowing with its sustained fire. There wasn't much time left. Terrified, a shivering trooper grabbed at their platoon radio set, the officer long dead, and started to talk.

“Not much longer!" Asche yelled, tossing the last of her grenades to Schwarz. She fired it, and the rounds tore across the roof of a small apartment unit, sending chunks of concrete and scorched air vents tumbling onto the street.

“Once up close, get inside and hose them down!" Schwarz told her. “We're being held up too long already"

“Ja," Asche dipped her head. Another UGL landed behind them, exploding with a shower of fragments. “They're panicking"

She went to dash ahead again but paused. There was a sound. Something over the loud blasting of the firefight and the rumble of background gunfire. A deep sound.

“Try this you fucking animals!" Screamed a voice from above the hair salon. A bloodied guardsman stood up, M5 in his hands, and fired off a 40mm grenade. The projectile sailed over Asche's head and landed 30 meters back amid the cars, where the rest of the squad was moving up. Confusion filled her head for a split second, before smoke began to billow from the impact. Thick, blood-red smoke.

And then the roar grew.

Asche had barely enough time to scream “RUNTER...!" to her fellow soldiers before the AGM hit. The last thing she saw before she was blown head over heels was Merkel standing right in the centre of the explosion, before the jackal vanished in the ball of flame.

The next thing she knew she was on her back, blood streaming from her nose and ears, head ringing and pounding, looking up at the sky. Just in time to see the sleek shape of the FL ANG F15C blast overhead, turning away from the site of its strike.

“Scheiße" she moaned, rolling over. Smoke was everywhere and her chest hurt like hell. Her pants were soaked- she'd pissed herself with the shock of the impact. “Shieße!"

Her ribs seemed sore but mostly intact, she thought to herself as she dragged her body into all fours and panted. More blood dripped from her mouth- her teeth all felt loose.

She managed a glance upwards and felt the heat on her face. There was fire and smoke everywhere. The section of highway behind them was ablaze, the flames leaping into the air amid the broken wreckage and collapsed buildings. There was no sign of the rest of the unit. They must have all been incinerated, Merkel among them. Her fist pounded the hot asphalt. So many names. So many friends. All erased in a second.

Wheezing, she tried to stagger onto her feet and saw Schwartz. The tigress was prone on the floor, her uniform partially blasted off her frame. Blood poured from her badly smashed nose- she must have been bounced off a car or the ground by the force of the blast. Not to mention her ankle, badly broken with a bloody spur of bone protruding. Scholl, a lynx, lay beside her- unconscious and badly flash-burnt but still breathing. Her MG148 lay beside her, the generator pack still intact.

Breathing heavily she dragged herself over and snatched up the support weapon, throwing the loops of the pack over her shoulders. Smoke was obscuring her from the defenders. It allowed her to hobble forwards, breathing heavily as she felt rage wash over her anew. She'd make them pay for what they did.

She pulled back the cocking bolt to make sure that the power hose was properly connected and strode right up to the hair salon. The smoke parted to allow her to see the grey camouflage of their uniforms as they reloaded the M2, moving casualties out of the way and taking on water.

One of them saw her and yelled, going for his M5. All turned as Asche pulled on the trigger and marched into the salon. The one forty eight erupted in a series of bright blue energy bolts, the atmosphere cooking into plasma about the beam as it cycled on and off. The bolts smacked into the guardsmen, killing the one that went for the M2 instantly before she turned them onto the others. Where the energy hit, flesh turned to ash. She riddled another before turning a thirds' head into charred ruins.

“Die you fucking runts!" She bellowed, looking truly demonic in the blue light of her DEW, reflecting off the blood pouring from her face and spilled down her front.

The other two occupants died as they fumbled for weapons, her weapon easily carving them up, flames licking from their seared fatigues. Snarling, she kicked over the M2 on its tripod and proceeded forwards towards the back rooms of the salon, the chairs having been upturned and used to form defensive barricades. She spotted the three corpses piled atop each other- recently fallen in the attack- and sunk a quick burst into their cold bodies for good measure.

“Rot in hell, Schweinaffe." she told them, before moving towards the back door.

She was greeted by the door being kicked open and two M5s were pointed at her direction.

All three fired at once but the humans were quicker. Asche shuddered as the bullets smacked into her vest, a few of her already damaged ribs cracking while another round tore right through her bicep. What was most worrying was the fact that a single 7x43 round that punched through the feed cable to her DEW. Only a single bolt emerged from her MG148 that went wide.

“Scum!" She roared and threw the broken support weapon right at them. It collided with the two gunners and knocked them back as she threw off the pack and charged right at them.

There were three, all dressed in the NG uniforms. Two drew bayonets, a third swung a sharpened spade. Asche went for her VP70A2, but her paw gripped around her entrenching tool instead. With a flick of her wrist, Asche unfolded her E-tool. The blade swung outwards as she charged them, bolting through the small door.

The one with the spade struck first, she caught him by the hand and squeezed. His scream rang out, only for her attention to be diverted to a shooting pain in her side. One of the others had stabbed her deep. Enraged she turned and swung her entrenching tool. The sharpened tip neatly unzipped a line across the human's throat, red gore spraying out as if from a pressurized hose.

“Die you overgrown fucking rat!" The first screamed, having grabbed at the spade with his good hand and swinging it into her leg. The force was enough to make her already battered knees buckle before she grabbed him by the neck.

“Fuck y-“ he said before she opened up his stomach and the hot steaming ropes of his intestines splattered onto the ground.

She smiled, eyes alight with fury only for another pain to blaze through her lower back. Another knife thrust, this one hard and well aimed.

“That's for my kids in Key West!" The owner screamed, yanking the knife out. Asche span about, the pain taking her breath away, to see the last Guardsman going for one of the dropped M5s. Anger boiled up inside her. For Merkel, Petra, Oswald, Erna, Winter, Vera and Gertrud. She saw red and threw herself at him, ignoring the blood that now liberally ran from her own wounds. Asche was no longer a soldier. She was a predator. A beast of vengeance. The human didn't have a chance. Her huge furry hands seized his neck and his hand. Fingers loudly snapped as she disarmed him on his knife. Dust and ash rained down from the ceiling, painting them ghostly as she wrapped her hands about his neck. And with a single, enraged movement- she snapped it.

It was then she realised who the guardsman was.

It was FANG.

His eyes rolled back in his head, blood dribbling out his lips, broken bone protruding from his neck.

She screamed and the whole world seemed to collapse about her.

The Vixen awoke upright in her bed, panting and covered in sweat. She looked around the dark room, and collected her thoughts. She'd had the flashbacks before, but… why was FANG there? She obviously hadn't killed him, he didn't have kids, and thinking back, the human whose neck she'd snapped in hand to hand looked nothing like FANG. Completely different facial structure, hell, he was of Cuban descent if she remembered correctly. Asche sat on the edge of her bunk, rummaging around in her footlocker for her flask and walkman. She put on her headphones and sat there listening to Rammstein as she unscrewed her flask, taking a deep sniff. She paused, and screwed the cap back in place, remembering what FANG had said during their last meeting. The vixen stood up and placed her flask back in her trunk, heading outside to clear her head. After standing there for a while in the crisp Australian night air, she snuck towards one of the prisoner bunk houses, slinking into the night like a fox raiding a henhouse.

FANG woke up to the immense weight of a 3 meter vixen pressing him into a bunk and hugging him like a teddy bear. The first thing he noticed was that she seemed to be drenched in a cold sweat. The second thing he noticed was that Fleabag apparently slept in only her panties.

“Fleabag, what fucking time is it?"

“0045. Give or take 5 minutes."

“It's almost 1 in the fucking morning? Why the hell are you here, you smelly mutt? Wait, are you in my bed, or am I in your bed?"

“You're in mine. I had a nightmare."

“You? A nightmare?" He raised a brow. “What the fuck does a huge hairy bitch that could turn Michelle Myers into a pretzel have a nightmare about?"

“Florida."

“..." FANG paused for a moment. “Yeah, that was the answer I was expecting. Do I even want to know?"

“No. You don't. Look, I need something to take my mind off of it so I can get back to sleep."

“And I'm that thing?"

“Yeah, you are. You should feel honored, usually it's Jägermeister."

“I'm going to need some booze myself if you keep squeezing me. I still fucking hurt, remember you dumb ass mutt?"

“Oh, Right! Sorry, doofus." She got up and pulled him to her chest gently, roughing up his hair by taking deep sniffs of it.

“What the fuck are you doing, you fluffy whore?"

“Sniffing you. I read online that sniffing humans is relaxing." She said, laying back in her bunk underneath him.

“Anthros just fucking talk about shit like that? God, you're weird."

“What's weirder is that a lot of you humans LIKE to be sniffed. So really, what species is the weird one?" She asked, taking more sniffs of him.

“Definitely yours, furball. Shouldn't you uh… be wearing something?"

“I'm wearing fur, it gets hot enough here."

“Yeah, but that doesn't cover anything, bimbo."

“And why would I need to cover up anything for you, FANG?" The vixen teases, licking his cheek. “You're my boyfriend, after all."

“Fair enough. So uh… why are you so goddamn wet? Seriously, you're drenched."

“Nightmare. I woke up like this."

“And here I was expecting you to make a sex joke, you dyke."

“Dyke?!" She huffed, then began aggressively groping his package. “Does this feel like something a fucking dyke would do?"

“Hey, what do you think you're doing, you overgrown mutt? That's my di…"

“Is it? Because I think it's mine, now." She whispered into his ears, pulling down his pants.

“You're gonna tear them! Let me get them, you goddamn beast!"

“Keep it down, it's one in the morning." She muttered, but allowed him to take off his own pants. The vixen pulled aside her panties and grabbed him by the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss. He then lined himself up with her anatomy, his face sinking between her breasts.

“There, they're off, you fucking bitch."

"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"

“What I think you want me to do."

“Well you don't just stick it in, schweinhund. Or maybe you should, I probably wouldn't be able to feel it anyway."

"And what, you expect me to munch your flea-ridden carpet or somethin'? I thought you animals were supposed to be used to ruttings."

"That's rich, coming from a species that collectively can't keep their legs shu--YIP!"

"Did you just yip? I barely put it in!"

"I could... hardly tell!"

"You are really bad at lying, Fleabag. Your claws are digging into my back, you overgrown bitch. I think I'm bleeding."

“You've been through worse. I thought humans were only supposed to be like, 5 inches!"

“Yeah, on average. You got lucky, ya Kraut bastard."

“Fuuuuck." She panted. “Is it supposed to feel like this?"

“You said you weren't a virgin, how are you so damn tight?" FANG grunted.

“Male hyenas aren't that big, they have to fit in their girlfriend's psuedopenis!"

“So you want me to stop or what, half breed?"

“Stop now and I will break your fucking legs, monkey." She pulled him closer, whispering in his ears. “Put it all inside me."

“Like this?"

“Slower, you moron! God, have you never fucked an anthro before?"

“Of course I haven't, you smelly mutt… Shit, you reek."

“Well then remind me to shower next time I drag you out of your bed at one in the morning, dumbass."

“I fucking will, you stinky ass fox."

“No you won't. You'll like my scent by then." She murrs as she buries his face deeper in her bosom, coating him with her sweat. “Everyone online says humies just grow to love the scent of their big anthro girlfriends."

“Bitch, there is a difference between your natural scent and fucking unwashed stank ass musk. You're definitely in the latter category right now."

“Quit your bitching or I'll shove your face in my pits, FANG."

“Don't you fucking dare, you mangy furball!"

“I think we already established that you can't stop me."

“I will twist your nipples again, Fleabag."

“Fine…" She muttered, before letting out another yip. “Gottverdammt, is that all the way to the hilt?!"

“Yeah. You better not be giving me pubic fleas."

“I don't have fleas!"

“I highly doubt that, you walking sack of flea bait."

“Well you're the one who started fucking me, so that sounds like a you problem if I have them. Which I definitely don't." Asche ruffled his hair up with her paw, pulling him closer and locking her legs around his waist. “I just wanted to cuddle."

“Don't you fucking lie, you wanted humie dick and you know it."

“Wanting it and getting it are too different things. But now that I have it, you aren't fucking pulling out."

“I don't have a fucking condom on, you cheese whore!"

“Good. We'll let nature do it's thing then."

“I swear you better not let me get you pregnant, I'm not fathering any fucking mutt pups in a work camp."

“You worried you're gonna pump me full of kits, 8732B?"

“Only because you're tighter than a frog's butt in a watermelon seed fight, fucking kraut. Not really giving me any choice..."

“You close?"

“Maybe? You feel so damn good it's hard to tell... I expected a hairy beast like you to be like a hotdog down a hallway."

“Sometimes expectations exist to be subverted. After all, I expected you to be a mewling little mommyfag based on all the other humans I see."

“Yeah, well I expected you to kick my fucking ass, dyke.

“Call me a dyke one more time and I'll have to."

“You're a Carpet munching Dyke that…" He yelped a few seconds later as she slapped his ass hard. “HEY! A SPANK IS NOT A KICK."

“My legs are too busy keeping you in place to bother kicking, FANG. Now what did I tell you about fucking keeping it down?"

“I would if you didn't fucking spank me, you monster."

“Naughty humans have to be punished, FANG. Otherwise I wouldn't have a job."

“Smelling you right now is punishment enough, trust me."

“I do not smell that bad, quit yer bitchin' or I'll make you sleep with me every night."

“Truly awful."

“Truly." The vixen leaned in and licked him on the cheek. “Now are you gonna fucking cum in me or what?"

“Why are you in such a hurry, you furry fucker?"

“I don't wanna spend all night waiting for your knot to go down."

“My… what?"

“Your knot? You know, that thing that inflates at the base of your dick when you're about to cum, so you can ensure I don't pull off you?"

“What in the Sam Hill are you talking about? I… don't have one of those."

“You don't? Huh, humans are weird."

“That sounds solidly like an 'Anthro dicks are weird' problem to me, Fleabag. Fuuuck… Well, if you want me to cum, just keep doing what you're doing down there."

“You mean this?"

“FUCK! Yeah, that!"

“Unf… Mein gott..!" The vixen moaned loudly, her claws digging into the human's back.

“Less claws! Gah!"

Asche howled out as she hit her climax in time with FANG, her muscular body holding him in place as he spasmed from his orgasm. “Gott im himmel..." She panted, catching her breath.

“Holy shit… I needed that."

“So did I…" She looked into his eyes, smiling slightly as she leaned in and whispered. “Mein…"

"Asche, turn off the bloody lesbian porno or put on your sodding headphones. It's gotta be bloody midnigh... '' Stahl grumbled from the other Bunk in the small room, turning over in his bed, breaking the intimacy of the moment. It took a second for his eyes to adjust, but the leopard looked away sheepishly once he realized what was happening. "Oh. Uh... Hello. This must be FANG, I take it?"

“It is. Now go back to bed and I'll fucking introduce you to eachother in the morning. When we all have clothes on."

“Yeah sure, whatever." Stahl nodded, rolling back into a comfortable position.

“I told you to keep it down, FANG."

“You HOWLED, bitch." Fang muttered. “So Asche, huh? I think fleabag suits you better."

“Halt die klappe."

“Wake the fuck up, Humie."

“Hnnngh… Fuck off, Furball, there's no way it's 0600 yet."

“It's not, it's like 0430. But you really shouldn't be in my bed when daylight rolls around."

“What, you wanna get rid of me already, bitch?"

“No, you just shouldn't be here. I don't want to get you in trouble when roll call comes around." Asche said, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“Hey, enough with the damn licks. We only get 5 minutes in the showers."

“If anything that means you need more licks."

“What are you, a cat?"

“I thought I was a fleabag?"

“You are a fucking fleabag."

“And you're a humie who's gonna get in trouble unless you get out of my bed and let me walk you back to the prisoner bunks. So go on, get up. Put some damn pants on."

“Fine, fine." He grumbled and started to pull his pants up. “Talk about hit and quit."

“You got three hours of cuddling. That is far more than you're allocated, prisoner." Asche teased. “Come on, I'll walk you back. After breakfast I want you to report at Checkpoint C at 0720."

“For?"

“I need to double check that you're okay. No incident report was filed, so I'm the only person who knows you're hurt, doofus."

“I wouldn't be nearly as hurt if some huge bitch hadn't pancaked me into her mattress last night."

“You loved it, don't even try to deny it, FANG." She chuckled. “Wait, you were on top, weren't you?"

“You rolled on top of me during the night."

“Scheiße... Sorry." Asche blushed bright red. “You alright?"

“I can walk, can't I?" He asked.

“I walked off a .280 during the war, that didn't mean I was alright."

“I'm fine, furball, trust me."

She pat him on the head. “Well then, if you're fine, you can get your ass to the prisoner quarters without any help from me."

“And get caught and beat?"

“Fine, I'll fucking escort you. Pussy."

“The only pussy here is the one that I wrecked last night."

Fleabag didn't even find that worth a response. She got herself dressed in her Uniform and snuck outside, holding FANG in her arms the whole way.

“This is not what I thought you meant by escort." The human said, muffled by her bosom.

“Quiet you, we better not get caught."

“Wait, don't guards fuck prisoners all the time?"

“Yeah, but I don't."

“Because you're a fucking dyk-mmmmf!“ FANG suddenly felt all the air get squeezed out of him by powerful arms and his face shoved deeper between her breasts.

“Shut it, you." Asche muttered as she silently opened the door, setting FANG down on the floor. “There. Now get in your fucking bed. Or don't, I'm not your mom."

“You want to be."

“You shut your gottverdammt mouth right the fuck up this very second. I will let you call me dyke before I let you call me mom. Which is never." Asche huffed and turned around, smacking the human with her tail. “Now go to sleep. You need your strength."

After breakfast Asche made her way to Checkpoint C with Stahl, trudging her way through the dimly lit caves.

“Did you enjoy yourself last night?"

“Oh shut it. You'd be banging Annette if she was a prisoner."

“Hey, I'm asking you a legitimate question. Maybe you'll stop being so bloody pissy all the time now that you have a boyfriend."

“Okay, yeah, I enjoyed myself." She said as she got into her spot and leaned against the fence, holstering her MP10. “For the first time in years, I had a good time that did not involve destroying my liver."

“Yeah, you just destroyed that prisoner's pelvis."

“Please, FANG is tough. He can take it."

“Didn't you almost smother him last night?"

“Yeah, and he's fine. Humans are made to be smothered, aren't they?"

“Last I checked they still needed to breathe."

“I'm not gonna fucking suffocate him, Stahl, Gott…" She huffed. “I already know I'm not gonna get another Human like him."

“Suffocating someone until they die is the dictionary definition of 'smother'."

“Don't be a pedantic faggot, Stahl."

"You're the sodding faggot, you overgrown dyke."

"Bitch, if anyone is a faggot, it's the one of us here who had to eat a soggy biscuit for his Para initiation."

“Oh fuck you, kraut."

“Don't you even think about fucking me, or I'll have to have FANG beat you up." Asche cackled.

“Oh no, I'm so scared of some wanker half a meter shorter than me." He said, dripping with sarcasm.

“Fine, I'll beat you up in his stead."

“Okay, that genuinely is scary." The snow leopard shivered.

“That's what I thought, Inselaffe." The hybrid said, stretching. She perked her ears and turned to face the mine as a familiar, tired looking human in a BDU jacket walked up.

“FANG. You're early."

“Hey Fleabag. I eat fast. It's the only way to prevent assholes from stealing your food." He said, looking to the Snow Leopard. “Who's the kitty?"

“Stahl. You met him last night."

“Humans don't see so good in the dark, Mutt." He said. “They also don't see too good when their faces are buried in fatass tits."

“Oh shush you. Stahl, this is 8732B, or FANG as I call him."

“Oh yeah, I looked up his files the other day. You mean Dyl…"

“He hasn't earned name privileges yet." Asche huffed as she grabbed the feline's snout and covered it.

“How does one 'earn' name privileges anyways, you overgrown furball?" FANG asked with a rather annoyed look on his face.

“You'll earn it when you start calling me by my name instead of things like 'smelly kraut fox'."

“Well, guess I'm FANG, then..." The Human shrugged. “...you smelly kraut fox."

“That's what I figured. Anyways, FANG, this is Stahl. He used to be in the Parachute Regiment, then got transferred here after he got injured during the second Islas Malvinas conflict in 2011."

“THEY'RE CALLED THE SODDING FALKLANDS. WE BLOODY WELL WON." The Leopard snorted.

“I know, it just pisses you off." Asche cackled.

“She's like this. It's probably why the bitch likes you." Stahl sighed, offering a paw to FANG. The human looked at it for a few seconds before shaking it.

“Err… Hi…" FANG said, his normally sharp wit failing to come with an insult in his sleep deprived state.

“You feeling any better after getting your pelvis crushed by this bitch?"

“Slightly. This fucking cheese whore is atleast gentler than that overgrown mexican house cat."

“ 'Mexican house cat'? Bloody 'ell, No wonder Miranda was trying to kill you." The Snow leopard snickered.

“Speaking of that schweinhund, Your bruises healing?" Asche asked, walking up to the human and pulling open his jacket.

“Easy with the jacket, beast. It's the only thing I have left." He said, unzipping his coveralls before she did. “They're less purple than yesterday. Still hurt like hell."

“You'll get better. It's just bruises."

“That so? And where's your medical license, ya dumb mutt?"

“Fine, if you want to see a doctor, I suppose I could fudge an incident report. Say you tripped or a rock fell on you."

“Why can't you say Miranda beat me again, you flea ridden shitbag?"

“Because I don't want to get written up for kicking that motherfucker's ass."

“If anything they should give you a medal for that. Probably the most heroic thing you've done your whole lousy career as a soldi…" FANG was cut off as Asche growled at him, baring her teeth.

“Touchy subject, FANG." Stahl warned.

“Alright, alright, I'll drop it. Dyke."

“I will break your pelvis, monkey boy." She huffed.