{"sf1_id":346006,"sf2_id":null,"title":"Trenches","author":"roland_perteev","words":3342,"posted_at":"2012-02-25T03:08:00.000Z","tags":["First Time","Fox","Gay","Officer","Possible coercion","Rabbit","War","gas"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/346006-trenches","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/view/346006","image_url":"https://www.sofurryfiles.com/std/thumb?page=346006\u0026ext=.jpg","description":"A fic I wrote years back while in a mood about the state of the world. It's set in a war that's a lot like World War 1, but isn't because I'm pretty sure I got a few things wrong.","content":"The world was at war.\u0026nbsp; Countries had formed alliances, tensions had grown, bucks had   \nbeen passed.\u0026nbsp; Things simmered until, finally, all hell had broken loose.  \n  \nApparently he was fighting for freedom.\u0026nbsp; But Arthur had his doubts.\u0026nbsp; He'd been in the   \ntrenches for five months, or so the calendar said.\u0026nbsp; Truth be told, he'd have believed   \nanyone who told him he'd been there for five years, or even fifty.\u0026nbsp; Every minute was   \nthe same.\u0026nbsp; The same endless pounding, the same flashing.\u0026nbsp; The same acrid smell of   \nburning, of death.\u0026nbsp; If he was fighting for freedom, that freedom was death.  \n  \nCould he hope for more?  \n  \nSome death looked painless.\u0026nbsp; Getting blown up, to be utterly torn apart and to have   \nyourself rain down over the slag that divided the trenches.\u0026nbsp; After all, it only took   \nan instant.\u0026nbsp; No time to feel the pain, correct?\u0026nbsp; Or was it?\u0026nbsp; Did that last   \ninfinitesimal moment stretch out for an eternity as the shrapnel tore through your   \nbody cell by cell as you infinitely approached the unattainable oblivion?  \n  \nThe young rabbit found himself face-down in the mud as the ear-shattering noise of a   \nshell detonating not a stone's throw away pounded through his whole being.\u0026nbsp; The   \ninstincts.\u0026nbsp; He'd become rather more reliant on them since his life here.\u0026nbsp; Not to know,   \nbut to feel when a shell was coming, where it was going to land, and to act without   \nthought.\u0026nbsp; His ancestors had been beings of instinct, supposedly incapable of rational   \nthought and reason.\u0026nbsp; Surely it was a bad thing to be made to revert to such a state?\n\n\u0026nbsp;But then, if this war was all that rational thought and civilisation was capable of   \nproducing, maybe enlightenment wasn't such a great thing after all.  \n  \nAt least savages only had claws and teeth.\u0026nbsp; At least they waged wars where skill and   \nstrength could get you through.\u0026nbsp; Now survival was based on pure luck.  \n  \nAnd luck was something that everyone was short of at a time like this.  \n  \nArthur picked himself up, painfully.\u0026nbsp; Everything was pain.\u0026nbsp; Where was he?\u0026nbsp; He'd been   \nsent... he'd been sent... to check for survivors in the bunker to the north.\u0026nbsp; It had   \nbeen hit by a gas bomb.\u0026nbsp; The actual probability of there being any survivors at all   \nwas slim to say the least.\u0026nbsp; But orders was orders.\u0026nbsp; He'd considered laying low for a   \nwhile before turning back with a negative report, but... it wouldn't be right.\u0026nbsp; What   \nif there \\_were\\_ survivors?  \n  \nThere wouldn't be.\u0026nbsp; There never were, not with gas.\u0026nbsp; But what if there were?  \n  \nIt would be wrong if there were.\u0026nbsp; Which there wouldn't be.\u0026nbsp; But it would still be   \nwrong.  \n  \nThe following walk through the muddy furrow to the bunker was long and uneventful. \u0026nbsp;  \nJust the usual rattle of gunfire and the thump of distant explosions interspersed by   \nthe squelch of his own paws in the mud - all noises that Arthur had long since become   \ndeaf to.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;The lapine soldier approached the shelter.\u0026nbsp; He didn't feel apprehension or fear.\u0026nbsp; He'd   \nseen death before.\u0026nbsp; He'd killed.  \n  \nOn the ground outside the shelter was a new recruit.\u0026nbsp; A young wolf, barely more than a   \npup.\u0026nbsp; His dead paws still clasped a futile rag over his muzzle.\u0026nbsp; Such waste.\u0026nbsp; No doubt   \nhe'd be mourned.\u0026nbsp; It wasn't long ago that Arthur would have wept.  \n  \nThe rodent thought.\u0026nbsp; He was still a kitten, legally.\u0026nbsp; Lying about your age to get to   \nwar.\u0026nbsp; Madness.\u0026nbsp; Madness such that it could only result from the naiveté of youth.\u0026nbsp; But   \nhe'd lost his youth a long, long time ago.\u0026nbsp; He'd lost so much.  \n  \nThe door was hanging open - it wasn't like anyone was alive enough to close it. \u0026nbsp;  \nArthur peered inside.\u0026nbsp; The scene was dim and unsurprising.\u0026nbsp; Corpses on the floor, some   \nhuddled under blankets - not that a blanket made any difference here.\u0026nbsp; There were no   \nsurvivors - as was expected.\u0026nbsp; He could return with his report, happy in the knowledge   \nthat he'd traipsed ten miles to state the bleedingly obvious.  \n  \nThe rabbit turned to leave when he heard a shuffle, from the shadows.\u0026nbsp; A shadow. \u0026nbsp;  \nWithout thinking, Arthur's rifle was trained on the gloomy figure.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;\"Halt!\" he bellowed, eyes straining down the site, a digit quivering against the   \ntrigger.  \n\"Pritchard!\u0026nbsp; Stand to attention!\" snapped the shadowy figure in a familiar, clipped   \nvoice.  \nWithout thinking, Arthur's back straightened, and he rested the rifle butt in his left   \nhandpaw, the barrel leaning against his shoulder as he saluted with his right  \n\"Sir!\"  \nA red fox emerged from the shadows.\u0026nbsp; It was Lieutenant Collins, but Arthur knew him as   \n'Sir'.  \nCollins had been Arthur's C.O. for the past week.  \n  \nThe ranks usually got shuffled after a charge.  \n  \nThe fox scanned Arthur up and down with his light brown eyes.\u0026nbsp; They had a twinkle in   \nthem.  \n\"Step inside, Corporal.\"  \nThe rabbit obliged.  \n\"Now take off your helmet.\"  \nOnce again he obeyed, tucking his helmet under his right arm.\u0026nbsp; Without thinking he   \nflicked his head, straightening his ears.  \n\"Sir, may I ask what this is about?\"  \n\"Silence, Corporal.\"  \n\"...\" the rabbit protested silently, but with due respect.\u0026nbsp; And he had genuine respect   \nfor his C.O.  \nGreg Collins started getting out of his shirt.\u0026nbsp; Arthur blushed, his gaze wandering to   \nhis own large footpaws.  \n\"Stand to attention Pritchard!\"  \nArthur's head snapped back up.\u0026nbsp; By this time the fox was in nothing but his briefs,   \nand he was quickly rectifying that.\u0026nbsp; The nervous rabbit looked at the light bulb just   \nabove Greg's head, hanging from it's wire.\u0026nbsp; It was a light bulb.\u0026nbsp; Just a light bulb. \u0026nbsp;  \nThere was nothing but the light bulb.  \n\"Pritchard!\u0026nbsp; Attention!\"  \n\"Sir... you're...\" the rabbit stammered  \n\"And don't call me 'Sir'.\"  \nArthur eyeballed the now completely naked fox with great suspicion, and more than a   \nhint of desire.\u0026nbsp;\u0026nbsp; He tried not to let it show.\u0026nbsp; But what on earth \\_was\\_ his first   \nname?  \n\"...Gregory?\" he ventured \"You're... starkers!\"  \n\"Indeed.\u0026nbsp; Don't you wish you were?\u0026nbsp; I can see something wants to get out.\"  \nArthur's blush deepened.  \n\"Er... that's...\"  \nGregory's tail flicked as he placed his handpaws on his hips.\u0026nbsp; It was really very   \nalluring.  \n\"I can see what it is, making a little khaki tent of your trousers.\u0026nbsp; Come on, do you   \nlift or give?\"  \nArthur couldn't manage anything better than an exiguous squeak  \n\"It's a simple question\" the fox persisted \"do you lift or give?\"  \n\"I... I don't know... I mean I never...\" was all the reply the cony could muster,   \nbarely able to hear himself or even think over his own pounding heart.\u0026nbsp; Before he knew   \nwhat to do, the fox's lips were pressed against his own.\u0026nbsp; Arthur was completely rigid,   \nbut he didn't protest.  \nSlipping his arms around the terrified, quivering Rabbit, the fox pulled his head   \nback.\u0026nbsp; Criminy, he \\_is\\_ terrified.  \n\"Look, no one's going to find us.\u0026nbsp; We're safe here... it's just you and me.\u0026nbsp; No one   \nelse.\"  \nArthur couldn't be so sure.  \nGreg began slithering down Arthur, his handpaws tracing their delicate way down his   \nback, his slim vulpine snout nuzzling it's way down his chest and then his abs. \u0026nbsp;  \nArthur moaned.\u0026nbsp; He'd wanted something like this to happen for so very, very long. But   \nthat didn't mean that he was in any way prepared for it.\u0026nbsp; Dropping his helmet and   \ncarefully letting his rifle drop on to the nearest soft surface (which, incedentally,   \nwas a blanket with a dead badger under it), he caressed the vulpine ears of his C.O.   \nwith his now free handpaws.\u0026nbsp; He wasn't sure why, but he had to do something with his   \nhandpaws, and Greg's ears were there.\u0026nbsp; Gently stroking the edges, feeling the fine fur   \nagainst his pads; the fox sighed in appreciation of the attention his ears were   \nreceiving, mildly amused.\u0026nbsp; Moving slowly, he ran his slim handpaws around Arthur's   \nwaist and undid his belt buckle.  \nFirmly but sensually Collins moved Arthur's trousers down over the rabbit's hard knob,   \nwatching it bob slightly in front of his damp nose.\u0026nbsp; Standing up from his squat,   \nCollins kissed Arthur again.\u0026nbsp; This time, Arthur tucked his arms around the fox,   \ndrawing his body close to his own, returning the kiss deeply.\u0026nbsp; Shaking, Arthur moved   \nhis tongue forward so that it was in the muzzle of the fox.\u0026nbsp; His first real kiss - it   \nscared him to death.\u0026nbsp; Arthur could taste the fox, and felt the fox's tongue explore   \nhis own mouth.\u0026nbsp; And it kept going, with Pritchard unsure if he was in heaven or not. \u0026nbsp;  \nHe sort of was, but he kind of thought it was gross and funny as well, and possibly   \nimmoral.\u0026nbsp; But despite his reservations, something inside him compelled him to keep   \ngoing, to keep tasting.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;After what seemed like an age, Greg broke the kiss.\u0026nbsp; For Arthur, the dreadful moment   \nwas over.  \n  \nBefore long, Collins slid his handpaws around the rabbit's shoulders, undid the top   \nthree buttons of his shirt and, placing a handpaw on each of his firm pecs, his   \nfingers made little circles on the nipples that were there.  \n  \nAs his nipples hardened in response the rabbit found himself going in to a sort of   \nsensory overload.\u0026nbsp; He wanted to relax.\u0026nbsp; He wanted to scream and shout.\u0026nbsp; He wanted to   \nrun.\u0026nbsp; He wanted to stay.\u0026nbsp; He wanted to do everything, so he stood still doing nothing.   \n\u0026nbsp;It was all he could do.  \nSensing Arthur's unease, Collins spoke.  \n\"Just relax and follow my lead, OK?\u0026nbsp; Relax and enjoy it.\"  \nArthur did his best. He took a deep breath, held it for three seconds, and slowly   \nexhaled.\u0026nbsp; Placing his no longer quivering but still jumpy handpaws on the fox's chest,   \nhe likewise fiddled his nipples.\u0026nbsp; Greg hunched his head forward and, nuzzling Arthur's   \nchest, took a deep sniff.\u0026nbsp; Unsurprisingly, Arthur smelled of smoke, mud and gunpowder,   \nbut under that was the real him.\u0026nbsp; Under that was a distinctly masculine scent,   \nslightly grassy, but undeniably masculine and ready to go.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;That is to say, it made Collins ready to go as he undid the remaining buttons on the   \nrabbit's shirt, opening it to completely reveal his slim lapine body.\u0026nbsp; Arthur wasn't   \nbig by any imaginative stretch, but there wasn't an inch of fat to be found on his   \nlithe frame.\u0026nbsp; He was hotly toned and, perverse though it was, he had the war to thank   \nfor that.  \nBending at the knees, Collins ran his handpaws and tongue down Arthur's torso, down   \npast his chest, over his smooth boyish stomach, moving slowly on down until he came to   \nArthur's now rock hard prick.\u0026nbsp; Arthur began to caress the fox's shoulders, moaning   \nsoftly as the fox fondled his balls in one handpaw, and, taking the base of Arthur's   \ncock in the other, he kissed the head with his soft vulpine lips, flicking it with his   \ntongue.\u0026nbsp; Truth be told, Arthur had no idea what was going on.\u0026nbsp; He'd never had anyone   \nto talk about this kind of thing with, and he for one had never considered using his   \nmouth on a guy like this.\u0026nbsp; Without warning Greg took the entire of Arthur's average   \nsized cock in to his muzzle.\u0026nbsp; Arthur's knees buckled.  \n\"Ooooh... that's... that's foul... ing... don't stop...\" he panted, somewhat disturbed   \nat what he was enjoying so much.\u0026nbsp; Wasn't it supposed to be wrong?  \nGreg slowly pulled back, pressing his tongue up against Arthur's cock as it slid out   \nof his muzzle.\u0026nbsp; Arthur exhaled a deep, shaky breath, only to gasp in pleasure as Greg   \nthrust his head forward, once again immersing Arthur's dick in his warm, wet muzzle.  \nThe rabbit continued to caress the fox's shoulders, his actions being somewhat akin to   \na massage.\u0026nbsp; The fox, feeling his way, moved his handpaws around behind the rabbit to   \nsqueeze his rump, his back arching in response.\u0026nbsp; Putty in my handpaws, thought Greg.  \nFondling Arthur's round buttocks, Greg's fingers explored the area, working around the   \nrabbit's fluffy stub of a tail, and down between Arthur's firm, furry spheroids to   \nfeel his warm tailhole.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Arthur was in heaven and hell.\u0026nbsp; Wasn't this wrong?\u0026nbsp; It felt very, very right.\u0026nbsp; But   \nthat didn't meant that it didn't go against so much that he'd been taught and that he   \nheld dear. Trembling, he waited for a sign.\u0026nbsp; Something?\u0026nbsp; Anything?\u0026nbsp; Aftre a million   \nand two years by Arthur's reckoning, something clicked.\u0026nbsp; A little light went on in his   \nmind and any thoughts of morality were abolished.\u0026nbsp; He went crazy, thrusting his meat   \nin to the Lieutenant's warm, delicious muzzle.\u0026nbsp; He had stopped thinking and started   \nacting.\u0026nbsp; Instinct.\u0026nbsp; Faster and faster the fawn rabbit fucked his C.O's face, before   \nlong and without warning his seed shooting to the back of the fox's muzzle.  \n\"Ohhhhh... oh that's...\"  \nGreg held his head more or less still as Arthur continued to thrust, sucking the warm   \njuice from the rabbit's twitching, pulsing cock, drawing it from him.  \n  \nArthur swayed as the room came back in to focus.\u0026nbsp; Looking down at Gregory, his heart   \nraced.\u0026nbsp; What had he just done?  \n  \nGreg, satisfied that Arthur's cock was clean and empty, drew back and let it slide   \nfrom his vulpine muzzle where it flopped down, rapidly softening.\u0026nbsp; Standing up he once   \nagain threw his arms around the nervous rabbit and kissed him deeply.\u0026nbsp; Arthur noticed   \nthe salty, slightly doughy flavour that hadn't been there last time.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;But the rabbit still felt ambivalent.\u0026nbsp; His heart said \"YES!\" but his brain was   \nterrified.  \n  \nBreaking the kiss, the vulpine officer said, \"Look, I know you're scared.\u0026nbsp; There's no   \nneed to worry - you can stop this if you want.\u0026nbsp; Just give the word.\u0026nbsp; You could go back   \nnow and give me your report, and life will go on as it always has since this infernal   \nwar broke out.\u0026nbsp; Only we need to know this ever happened.\u0026nbsp; Hell, you could probably   \nshoot me right now and no one would know - and I probably wouldn't even stop you. \u0026nbsp;  \nIt's all in your paws.\u0026nbsp; But before you decide, think.\u0026nbsp; Is this really wrong?\u0026nbsp; Isn't   \nthere enough hate in the world without having to kill off what love that survives?\"  \n  \nLove.\u0026nbsp; Arthur's mind reeled at the word.\u0026nbsp; Love.\u0026nbsp; He had all but forgotten what that   \nword meant.\u0026nbsp; His head spun as feelings came flooding back, memories, too, and memories   \nof feelings.\u0026nbsp; Feelings that for so long had been banished to the darkest recesses of   \nhis being.\u0026nbsp; He'd lost so much.\u0026nbsp; He'd stopped believing in anything good.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;He'd stopped believing in good.  \n  \nWhat had he become?  \n  \nTears welling in his hazel eyes, he embraced the fox, finally surrendering to feelings   \nhe'd felt... not for that long actually.\u0026nbsp; But he'd wanted to feel them.\u0026nbsp; He'd wanted   \nto feel them for longer than he cared to remember.  \n\"I...\" he began, struggling to speak, the words sticking in his throat  \n\"I want to love.\"  \nCollins smiled, happy for the first time in years to be alive.  \n\"Pritchard?\" he said, playfully  \n\"Yes, Sir?\"  \n\"You're standing to attention again.\"  \nHe was, too.\u0026nbsp; So soon.\u0026nbsp; But then, what else was one to expect from a rabbit?  \n\"Sorry, Sir.\"  \nThe fox stroked his chin in a comically-quizzical manner  \n\"No no, that's a very good thing.\u0026nbsp; I was going to ask if you'd be interested in, well,   \nbonking my brains out?\"  \n  \nArthur froze.\u0026nbsp; He was kind of hoping that Collins would be the one screwing him good   \nand hard.\u0026nbsp; But this was still an invitation that he could hardly refuse.  \n\"Sir, I'd love to.\"  \n\"And don't call me 'Sir', OK?\"  \nCollins found it more than a little unnerving.\u0026nbsp; He'd hate to think that he was using   \nhis rank to take advantage of an emotionally fragile subordinate.  \nWhich he kind of was, really, but he hated thinking about it.  \n\"Sorry... Gregory.\"  \nTruth be told, Arthur was actually more comfortable calling his commanding officer   \n'Sir'.\u0026nbsp; Especially now.\u0026nbsp; It made the whole thing seem more... normal.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Moving to an empty bed, Greg hopped upon it, lying tummy down and propping himself up   \non his elbows.  \n\"Come along, Arthur.\" he said, grinning \"This moment might be ours but we still have a   \nwar to fight.\" he continued in his irrisistably clipped way.\u0026nbsp; Upping his rump and   \nparting his vulpine thighs, he revealed the near white fur between them, tail swishing   \nin a 'come hither I say - come hither you reticent bastard!' manner.  \n  \nArthur gulped.  \n  \nImpatiently, Greg flicked his tail upward, turning the 'come hither' in to a much less   \nsubtle 'are you going to stand there all day gawking or are you going to give me a   \ngood seeing-to?'  \n  \nArthur wasn't sure what to do.\u0026nbsp; He licked his index finger and gestured 'up', shooting   \nthe fox a quizzical expression.\u0026nbsp; Greg smiled and nodded in approval.\u0026nbsp; Limbs shaking,   \nthe rabbit climbed in to position behind the canid.  \n  \nWith another tail-swish the fox wiggled his rump.\u0026nbsp; Arthur gasped involuntarily as a   \ndrop of precum trickled down his dick.  \n  \nLicking his finger again, the rabbit slowly pushed it in to the fox's hole, feeling it   \ngive a little, his own cock becoming unbearably hard as the tailhole engulfed his   \nfinger.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Placing a handpaw on each of Collins' buttocks and shuffling forward on his knees,   \nArthur lined his hard member up with the pink pucker under Greg's tail.\u0026nbsp; Parting   \nGreg's vulpine buttocks and taking careful aim, the rabbit pushed forward, pressing   \nagainst the fox's tailhole.\u0026nbsp; His cock was still wet from before, and Arthur gasped as,   \nall of a sudden, the head was inside his commanding officer.  \nNervously, the rabbit pushed his shaft further in.\u0026nbsp; Collins squirmed a little.  \nIt had been a while since he'd done this.  \nHanging his head and panting, Arthur was now hilted in the fox.  \nHe took a second to ponder the situation and drew back slowly.\u0026nbsp; Greg sighed, his own   \ncock throbbing, dripping precum like there was no tomorrow.\u0026nbsp; It had been way too long.  \nNow mostly out, the rabbit thrust forward again, unable to stifle the moan that forced   \nits way from his muzzle.\u0026nbsp; Again he thrust, and again.\u0026nbsp; The rabbit was worried.\u0026nbsp; He was   \nlosing all control of himself.\u0026nbsp; But then, was it such a bad thing?\u0026nbsp; So much had been   \nturned on its head today.\u0026nbsp; In the last half hour, even.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Greg moaned.\u0026nbsp; Arthur clearly lacked experience, but he more than made up for that with   \nhis sheer passion... which was something the young rabbit had in droves.\u0026nbsp; Faster and   \nfaster Pritchard fucked the fox, losing himself in the ecstasy.\u0026nbsp; Greg smiled warmly as   \nhe stroked his own cock - perilously close to blowing his load and trying to keep it   \nthat way.\u0026nbsp; For a few minutes there was nothing but the wet slapping and panting -   \nuntil without warning Arthur let out a shout, balls tightening as he filled his C. O.   \nwith juice.\u0026nbsp; Frantically thrusting his hips he'd never felt anything that good before   \n- even the most honest, sincere moments with his closest friends couldn't compare, and   \nhe'd treasure those for as long as he'd live.  \n  \nGreg came as he felt Arthur blow his load, filling him with seed.\u0026nbsp; With a strange air   \nof calm he remembered the first time he'd done this.\u0026nbsp; It had frightened him, as he   \nknew this frightened Arthur.\u0026nbsp; But it was a good sort of fear - the fear of the   \nunknown, when the unknown is more wonderful than you could have ever imagined.  \n  \n\n\u0026nbsp;Truth be told, the fear was only good in retrospect, and Arthur was petrified as he   \nslowly drew his sensitive, softening member from the fox's ass.\u0026nbsp; Greg wriggled a   \nlittle.\u0026nbsp; I had, after all, been a while.  \n  \nSitting up, Collins turned to face the rabbit, remembering exactly what he'd wanted to   \nhear when it had been him.  \n\"You've done this before, haven't you?\" he said, nuzzling Arthur.  \nThe rabbit shook his head, smiling sheepishly.  \n\"Now com'ere.\u0026nbsp; We won't be missed for a few minutes yet.\"  \nThe fox threw his arms around the rabbit, and Arthur reciprocated the motion.\u0026nbsp; There   \nthey sat, in each other's arms.\u0026nbsp; There was no war.\u0026nbsp; There was no time.\u0026nbsp; It was just   \nthem in their own world, and nothing else mattered.  \n  \n\n"}