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Casual Warcrimes

Warning: If you attempt to recreate the cursed furry shit you're about to see, you'll probably get disappeared by the blue-helmets, since turning all of your enemies into fluffy femboys and making them rail each other is debatably a violation of the Geneva Convention, as is me writing this piece of pornographic fiction. I haven't gotten an answer from the UN if femboy TF gas is a warcrime, but I'm certain this story constitutes cruel and unusual punishment.

(This is a bit of furry porn, do not read if you are underage, hate femboys, gay sex, references to anti-furry nonsense, homophobia, racism or transformation)

*****

The city of Angelos was beset on all sides by humans. As a city on the front lines, and a major local supply center, the Human Federation absolutely had to take it to gain a proper foothold in Anthro Union territory, but constant counterattacks, Anthro grand artillery barrages and finally, the Von Manneheim Line the Anthro forces built ground Federation attacks to a halt. This, naturally, meant that the previously mobile war fought with tanks and aircraft ground down and evolved into trench warfare.

The endless mud, the deliberate positioning of the Von Manneheim line in more elevated positions over the Federation ones, the laying of countless thousands of antitank mines and tank traps, and endless forests of barbed wire, and both Anthro and Federation snipers and artillery made any advance of a few kilometers cost thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of lives. It also made conditions in the trenches absolutely miserable.

The winter had set in, turning the Federation trenches into semi-liquid, sludgy, slushy bogs, cracked and damaged the concrete of their own parapets, and already, several thousand every day made their way to the field hospitals for gangrene and frostbite. The wet, soggy cold went straight through Federation boots as if they were made out of old cardboard after an hour of standing in the trenches, and bogged down Federation tanks.

However, the only thing that hadn't happened in this war was the use of chemical weapons. Strangely, the Anthro Union didn't seem to hate the Federation so much as to try and launch a chemical weapon attack, and despite clearly having access to nuclear technology, they haven't used nuclear weapons.

But that's not what Private MacLellan, known by his Federation contemporaries as Tom, cared about, as a regular grunt in this war.

"Fucking hell, the furfags have it so good. Thick fur pelt, an elevated position, proper concrete trenches... And here we are suffering with constant seepage into our trenches." "Are you suggesting treason, Conscript? Are you considering deserting?" A rather severe Commissar glowered at Tom, gloved hand concerningly close to his sidearm. "Of course not, sir! I never suggested I wanted to desert, in fact, it would be absolutely lovely if we managed to get a hold of part of the Von Manneheim line, get out of this half liquid, freezing muck." "Well, you won't get there by moping about it, Conscript! Now hurry to your post!" "Yes sir!" Tom nodded quickly and rushed over to his station.

Dodged a bullet there, Tom thought, both literally and figuratively...

He nodded to the sentry that had been at the post for the last watch, a slightly older, bigger and hairier man who was a veteran of the last Lebenstraum operation, that one against an incursion by a species called the Avali. "So, what happened on your shift, Innis?" "Took down a sniper and a few stragglers who were probably trying to sneak in with a few frag grenades, nothing major to report." "And the Anthro heavy guns?" "Mostly focused further south and north." "Well... That's good news, for now. Did they do much?" "Well, a few MIA's but nothing too serious." "All right... Thank you. I'll save you some of my whiskey ration later if you want to relax in the dugouts." "Will do. Have fun, kid." Innis headed off, leaving Tom in with the gunshield and a remote operated machine gun turret.

Tom rather quickly checked the machine gun to make sure it was cool, not worn out, and that the belt was free of debris before firing a few shots in the general vicinity of the Anthro lines, just to make sure it was operating smoothly, and the gun seemed to be operating flawlessly. However, once he did that, he got into the protected part of the position and looked through the monitor, up towards the Von Manneheim line and its massive 200mm fixed guns.

Those guns were turning on their massive triplex turrets, which were no longer pointing miles down the line. Please, he prayed to his god. Please, don't let them stop on me, please let them move on...

He watched the massive guns and froze in shock when the massive guns were dead on his position, to the fact he could SEE THE FUCKING RIFLING.

He then saw the massive guns' muzzle blast in the zoomed in cameras. After processing his imminent demise for a second, he grabbed the field telephone.

"200MM guns targeting Section 12-X! INCOMING!" He screamed into the handset as the comically massive shells could be heard approaching, making a sinister hissing noise like someone ripping the sky apart like it was the world's biggest piece of construction paper. He braced himself for the shell, covering his head...

But the three shells landed about 40 meters behind and ahead him and didn't explode.

Tom picked himself up and dusted himself off, shocked and beyond overjoyed that he was alive. He grabbed the handset and reported. "...Shells landed, think they were duds." "Glad to hear that, but keep an eye on those guns." "Um... Sorry to interrupt your call human, but I don't think those were duds."

Tom did a double take at the unfamiliar, slightly high pitched voice. It had a strange nasal quality that matched no human voice Tom had ever heard

"Who is this? Identify yourself!" "Just a friend of yours, and if I'm not now, I will be~" "The fuck is that supposed to-"

There was a loud clunk, followed by a loud hiss as the shells that had buried themselves in the ground burst like aerosol cans shot with a shotgun. A plume of pink-and-blue vapour rose out of the ground above the shell holes, forming technicolour mushroom clouds that slowly crept towards the trenches.

"GAS ATTACK!" He yelled into the handset as the blue and pink clouds were blown by the wind towards him, at alarming speed. He frantically looked through his gear to look for his gas mask...

Only to find it was missing. Shit.

"Well, it was nice knowing you!" He told the other soldiers nearby, including the Commissar, as the wave of pastel fumes rolled into the trenches, clinging to the ground like some sort of angry smog creature. Tom tried his best to elevate himself over the heavy gas... But the gun shield instead redirected the entire thing right into his face.

Immediately he had a reek of musk, cherry and a strongly artificial banana flavour assaulting his nose and tongue as he coughed violently, the pungent aroma of the gas making his head spin. As he fell back onto the duckboard he practically yelped, but strangely...

The gas didn't hurt. If anything he was starting to feel... Warm and tingly? He shook his head in confusion as the cloying reek lingered in the trenchline. His feet felt awful in his boots as he started undoing his leg wraps to try and see what was going on. The boots had been literally tailor-made for him by a robot quartermaster, so if they were...

Holy shit.

Tom did a double take as his previously normal human shape had mutated, he panicked as he tried his best to hide them from the Commissar, knowing that there was no place for mutants in the Federation. Fortunately for him, however...

The Commissar was distracted, and had taken off his pistol belt as his uniform started getting baggy in some places and a lot tighter in others, but he was curled up, panting in the gas where it was the thickest, as the gas took a hold of him.

Tom took his helmet off in fear and felt pretty much exactly what he had feared. His ears were no longer where they should be and were starting to climb up his head. They'd turned triangular. He could hear his own heart pounding as he grabbed an ear, shocked by the sensitivity. He gasped as the arm holding himself up out of the thickest part of the gas shook and buckled, and his traitorous dick pushed up against his uniform pants.

He immediately tried to loosen the pants as his hips widened, and a growing pressure exploded out the back, but the effort was a fair bit more difficult, as his hands grew claws and became slightly stubbier. He took a second to look at his hands, as they started growing pastel blue fur. For some reason, he thought, they looked... Cute. He shook his head to try and clear the fog but... Wait, like, what? Why was I worried about my pawsies? Tom thought as he wiggled his hips, trying to shimmy out of his uniform pants, soon watching his adorbs little footpaws start to grow fur as well. For some reason, his new traitorous tail had come in and started swishing as he started to get his totally fumcken precious coat of pastel blue and white fur. He looked at his tail and OH MY GAWD, the floof!

He got his tunic and undershirt off and watched as the fur raced up his belly and over his chest, his waist going from toned and hard to thin, lithe.. SEXY.

Wait, what? He paused for a second and shook his head. But... He wasn't gay, because...

He shook his head to try and clear it again. If he wasn't gay, why did he have a figure he actively cultivated with all of those hard exercises to attract all the cute boyes? He panted as his face slowly lengthened, only making the reek of musk in the gas more prominent as his vision became blurred in arousal. The last thing he saw was his own totally boopable snoot grow fur before everything became dark.

*****

As he woke up, Tom felt beyond warm, and looked around in confusion. "W-where the fuck am I? ...That's..." He was shocked that his own voice was much higher than it was previously, and had that same nasal quality to that of the caller. "You're in teh goodest place, foxxo~" came a voice to his left as a paw stroked over his ears. Tom eeped in shock before a jolt raced down his back and he shivered. He wanted to be afraid but FUCKEN- Those scritches to his earsies! THEY WERE SO GOOD!

"That's it, good boye Tom~" "H-how do you know me?" Tom blushed furiously as he tried to cover his face with his tail. "You know who I am, and I forgive you for complaining about our trenchlines~"

Tom gasped. THE FUCKING COMMISSAR-

Tom's brain practically shut off as his former boss gave his ear a lick, and he let out an unbridled moan. As the Commissar continued to toy with and tease him, one of the Anthro Union officers came over to him, wearing the same uniform and having a similar nasal, slightly high-pitched voice to the one he'd heard calling him.

"Here, your clothes were ruined, mister Tom, have these." The officer dropped a pair of tactical thigh-highs and a battle skirt, with a nice new top. Tom blushed furiously as the officer smirked. "Want me to introduce you to the Battle Femboy Corps, mister Tom?~" "F-fuck... What does that entail?" "You know how we raise esprit de corps? Hint, raised. Fucking. Tails~" The Anthro officer purred at him and fondled his muzzle before pulling Tom into a kiss.

At that point Tom's brain was now mush as he tasted the delectable maw of his new boss, his now knotted sosig was pushing against the floor and he had very little left on his mind. He moaned needily into the muzzle of the officer and hiked his rear a bit. "S-stop teasing!" He whimpered. "Are you sure you want to serve the right side~?" "FUCKING. YES. NOW SH-SHUT UP A-AND GODDAMN FUCK ME!!!" He squeaked as the Anthro officer purred and licked his cute little snoot. "Good boy~" He purred as he lifted his skirt and pulled his own panties down, revealing a knotted pingas like his own. The musk, with Tom's now vulpine sniffer, made his eyes water... But he wanted more. All of it. He moaned and took a deep sniff before awkwardly licking across the officer's pride. It tasted as unfathomably good as it smelled, and if his brain wasn't the equivalent of the mud in the trenches before, it certainly was now. Everything in his universe was now-

He gasped as he felt a finger in his rump, along with something slick, and blushed adorably as he looked behind him to find the former Commissar, once tasked with keeping his soldiers from sodomy and even considering treason, oiling his tailstar with the obvious intent of taking it.

"I don't feel your tongue, boy. Put in some more work." The officer playfully growled at him before he whimpered and immediately resumed giving the knotted meat of the officer attention. The officer moaned and pet his sensitive ears as Tom shivered and put his maw around it, trying to be super careful not to hurt him because of his now sharper teeth.

As he started with a fragile suck, his will to be a part of the Federation's crusade against homosexuality and non-humans burnt away like they'd used Anthro propaganda leaflets as kindling. Every bob of his head and every moan and stroke the officer put out made him more confident and eager.

Them he felt paws on his hips and he squeaked around the cock in his maw, before he felt the tapered length push slowly into him.

The careful stretching and smooth push in, and those paws groping his now soft, curvy hips of his cemented in his mind that this was what he wanted. His entire body was on fire with a want for more. He moaned unashamedly around the spire in his maw as he clenched around the tool in his backdoor and wiggled for his former boss, eagerly bobbing his head on the breeding stick of his new one.

Once he'd stretched for a few seconds, the former commissar started to pull out, making him whimper as he felt empty, and shuddered as he pushed in. He felt like he was in a furnace, and his entire body tingled as he felt full again. He yipped as he grabbed the officer's rump, causing him to gasp, and pulling the officer closer as the officer growled. "I'm in charge, you hear me?~" The officer blepped his tongue and tugged on his ears, starting to thrust roughly into his face.

The tugging of teh earsies made Tom's eyes roll into the back of his skull. He was in heaven right now, his god, his old religion be damned, there was no way he was going to feel better than this. His old boss started matching the new one's pace and force, starting to truly rail into him, filling him... Completing him. He shuddered and moaned and whimpered in pure bliss as the old commissar soon found a spot that made him see stars and flashes of colour.

He stopped breathing for a few seconds in bliss before the officer and former commissar both grabbed onto him and pushed forward some more, tying him from both ends. The feeling was enough to send Tom crashing over the edge, flying off a cliff of ectasy as he covered the concrete floor below him in seed and he tried desperately to take the flood that both officers were pumping into him.

He clenched needily around the commissar's knot as he started to feel weak. However, the officer that had tied his face let go of his ears and carefully extracted himself from Tom's maw, making him gasp for air as they both gently pet him. He purred gently as he felt them stroking him.

"Now, cutie, let's get you aquainted with the rest of your comrades, they'll want to meet the new recruits personally~"

Tom shuddered in anticipation. This was going to be a long day... And for some reason, he was looking forward to every single one of the meet-and-greets...

Maybe because he now, like, totally loved lifting his totes adorable tail and this was always what he was meant to be.