The Raging Hounds IV: The Aftermath
#4 of The Raging Hounds
The Raging Hounds, the universe in which the story takes place and all the characters are copyright of Rhazagal. No part of this series may be used without permission from the author. If you dislike reading about M/M action between two (or more!) soldiers, you can stop reading here.
Vincent's sleep came to an end as he little by little woke up, the hyena's eyes cracking open and his vision slowly focusing as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes. Yawning widely he sat up, looking around with a slightly puzzled expression until it all came back to him.
He was sitting on a huge bed, twice the size of his own bunk, with nothing but the standard army boxers on him. The hyena smiled as he turned his head towards the source of a steady, quiet huffing, the ginormous form of Longfang lying right next to him in a drug-imbused sleep.
Vincent ran his paw idly through the fur on Dan's head, still smiling softly. After a while the two of them had left the restrooms into which Vincent had ran off to in order to get away from the rest of the Hounds. Still not wishing to face the lot of them, Vincent had taken up Dan's offer to spend the night in the wolf's room.
Dan was, due to his sheer physical size, unable to fit into a normal bunk bed, and as such the wolf had been given his own room and his own, double-size bed.
Other than the bed and the footlocker the room was bare and empty. Dan used it only for sleeping anyways, so he didn't need any decorations, his awake-time being spent in the gym or in the dorm of the rest of the Hounds where he'd sit in some corner, watching over the lot of them and occasionally partaking in their conversations.
The previous night had been probably the best Vincent had spent in the Federate Marine Corps, the hyena's sleep having been undisturbed in the arms of the burly sergeant. Dan was definitely -deep down inside- a real sweetheart and a gentleman, that much Vincent managed to deduce from the time he had spent with the massive wolf.
For a moment Vincent thought about just lying back down and waiting for Dan to wake up, but in the end he decided against it. Jim had told Vincent that Dan might very well sleep half of the day when he actually did take the sleeping meds and Vincent's growling stomach couldn't even bear to think the possibility of waiting that long. So Vincent slipped out of the bed, shivering a little as his feet made contact with the cold metal of the floor.
He took his time in dressing up. He wasn't in TOO much hurry to leave, watching with a lopsided smile as Dan huffed and snorted quietly in his sleep.
The door slid shut with a quiet, hydraulic hiss as Vincent left the room in his search for something to eat. The mess hall was his best bet, naturally, so he headed that way, listening to the background noises of the ship, the thrumming of machinery and the hollow clanking of his boots against the grated floor.
As he passed by the door leading to the showers, Jim walked right through it and almost collided with Vincent. The Dalmatian's tail started to wag slightly at the sight of Vincent, a genuinely happy smile curling onto the dog's muzzle.
"Heeeey! Good morning to you, Vincent. Did you sleep well with Dan?" Jim asked, nudging the hyena playfully to the ribs.
"Yeah, I slept well. What about you?" Vincent replied.
"Oh, I slept just fine...In the arms of a rather handsome Husky with a knack for bandages and stuff."
Vincent chuckled "Rey, huh? Went there to have a little prostate exam did you?"
That statement made Jim blush a little, the Dalmatian scratching his neck in embarrassment as he replied "Yeah...I'm not called Boytoy for nothing."
Having gathered his blown composure, Jim gingerly inquired "Did you and Longfang...?"
"Nah...Just sleeping, 'is all." Vincent replied, nudging then Jim's side "So how was he?"
Jim burst into a fit of giggling at the hyena's question "He's good...Real good."
"Uh-huh."
"You know...I think Rey has his eyes on you." Jim said after a moment of silence during which the Dalmatian seemed to weigh his words carefully.
"Really now? I kinda thought that much, what with his flirting when I was in the sickbay before the mission..." Vincent commented, smiling lightly.
"Yeah. He kept asking things about you. So much so that I had to shove my tongue into his muzzle to shut him up!" Jim said merrily, looking quite happy at his latest midnight rendezvous.
Vincent couldn't help but chuckle, his chuckle dying down little by little, leaving the two of them into a silence, which didn't feel awkward at all.
Truth be told the night spent with Dan had helped Vincent sort some things out in his head. Dan had pretty much confirmed what Vincent himself had started to suspect. The reason the Hounds were so flirtatious, so open about their sexuality and so...slutty was simply because to them every moment could be the last. They were all soldiers living in a constant state of warfare, living with the thought that every mission could be their last and it was exactly that thought which made the Hounds live to the fullest.
"But I'm not used to such openness...I just need some time..." Vincent thought to himself, casting then a sideway glance at the Dalmatian walking by his side. Unavoidably Vincent found his gaze wandering down the Dalmatian's back and onto the swaying hips of the dog, silently admiring the gorgeous curve of Jim's rear.
The hyena had to force himself to think of something -anything- else as he found himself growing slightly hot under the collar, and that wasn't the only thing growing either...
Slightly angry to himself Vincent shook his head slightly, masking the motion into shaking and swiping some of his mane out of his face.
Suddenly Jim snapped his fingers and stopped as if he had remembered something.
"Totally forgot...The guys wanted to show you their appreciation, but they didn't dare to give it themselves, not after your little outburst yesterday..." Jim's tone was slightly disapproving by the end of the sentence, which made Vincent blush slightly, before the dog paused to dig out something from his pocket, offering a small package wrapped into brown paper shortly afterwards "...so anyways here you are!"
Vincent took the package and casually tore the wrapper away, pausing then with his muzzle slightly ajar to stare at his gift. A pair of goggles with mirrored, pitch-black lenses and a black rubbery elastic.
"Since you use the heavy flamer these days -Schaefer appointed you into one of our heavy weapon specialists- we thought you needed to protect your eyes from the heat and stuff..."
Gingerly Vincent placed the goggles around his head, the elastic molding to fit his head perfectly, and then lowering the goggles onto his eyes, the world growing suddenly much darker -much the way as if he had been wearing a pair of strong shades.
"Well now...Those goggles sure make you cool...and almost irresistibly hot at the same time." Jim said quietly, the dog's muzzle curled into a pleased, lopsided smile, his arms casually crossed over his chest as he examined Vincent from head to toe.
Vincent fished out a small mirror from one of the pockets on his pants, examining his reflection carefully for a while before his muzzle split into a broad grin that could only be defined as flirty.
"I love these! I owe the guys a big thank you...and an apology..."
Slowly Vincent lifted the goggles, his goggles, up onto his forehead, smiling softly at Jim. He noticed the Dalmatian's tail was swaying lazily from side to side and the dog's ears were as perked as they could, a smile caressing his face.
"I guess I can start the thank you right here and now...With some tip to the messenger." Vincent said slowly and, before Jim could ask what he meant by that, pressed the Dalmatian against the nearest wall, kissing him softly onto the lips.
Jim marfed at first in surprise as Vincent moved in closer and pressed him against the cool surface of the metal wall, but he caught the drift as soon as Vincent's lips connected smoothly with his. Gently Jim wrapped his arms around the lean, muscular body of Vincent, almost unable to believe he was finally getting some response from the handsome hyena.
The long, wail-like growling of Vincent's stomach brought the tender moment into an end, a healthy rosy hue appearing onto Vincent's cheeks as he broke away from the kiss and put a paw onto his stomach, grumbling silently under his breath.
"Yeah...I think it's time for some chow right about now, hmm?" Jim said merrily, apparently not bothered in the least, and Vincent couldn't help but agree.
To himself, however, Vincent promised he'd have a second try with Jim...The Dalmatian had proven to be quite the kisser!
Colonel Schaefer sat behind his desk in his office, leaning casually against his arm with his cheek against it, one leg crossed over the other, as he stared at the image of a tiger -aged around fifty- in a stylized, decorated officer's uniform speaking at him on the screen of his computer.
"All in all..." The tiger said with all the slow dignity of an officer "..the war in Skai system is going well. The rebels are falling apart without a leader as the rest of their...hmm...'officers' fight amongst each other about the control of the troops. This leaves them divided and vulnerable and its easy for us to pick them apart one faction at a time. This all, of course, is thanks to the heroic and daring work of you, your men and the SpecOps specialist Ghost."
"Thank you, admiral Daikawa. The performance of my men was adequate enough to get the job done." Schaefer replied without blinking an eye.
Schaefer's harsh-ish words clearly took admiral Daikawa by surprise, a look of disbelief spreading onto the tiger's features as he stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure. Obviously the tiger was one of those who had gotten his position through pulling strings and greasing some palms without seeing a single day of real warfare.
"I...I can't...Colonel! What your men did was definitely and absolutely fantastic! You should not belittle their performance."
Schaefer closed his eyes for a short moment and nudged his head slightly to the side in the equivalent of a shrug "If you so say, Sir. I've already made arrangements for their reward: one night off on the nearest conflict-free planet... I'm sure it'll do them good to strip off the army fatigues, don some civilian clothing and get wasted."
"As if they didn't strip off their uniforms at every given possibility already..." Schaefer thought slightly amusedly to himself.
"I see...Yes, that should be a good reward for them. You may do as you wish, Colonel." Daikawa replied, the tiger's brow curling into a slight frown before he nodded, flashing a brief shadow of a smile to the impassive German Shepherd "Daikawa out."
"Schaefer out." and with that the communication was terminated, the screen of the computer going black as it powered down.
Sighing deep the Colonel swiveled his chair around a little, fishing out a small glass and a bottle of genuine, good, aged, strong whiskey from one of the drawers of his desk. He poured himself a healthy dose of the amber liquid, watching at the dance of light within the glass for a brief moment before chucking the contents down to his throat in one go.
The whiskey burned Schaefer's throat as it slid down, but none the less it was good, leaving the dog with a warm feeling from his throat down to his stomach. He wasn't much of a drinker, but every now and then even he needed a shot or two, mainly as a ritual of sorts to honor those soldiers he had lost in their previous mission.
Without a warning the door hissed and slid open, making Schaefer swivel his chair around once more after placing the glass back down onto the desk. There were only two furs on board the Triumphant with enough balls to enter his room without knocking and, indeed, it was lieutenant Fletcher who stepped into the room, the door sliding shut automatically behind the Great Dane.
"Here as ordered, Sir." Fletcher said with a hint of nervous stiffness in his voice as he stood in perfect attention in front of Schaefer's desk.
In silence Schaefer put the whiskey and the glass back into the drawer before standing up to look the taller dog into the eye, the Colonel's eyes seemingly piercing through the lieutenant all the way down to his soul.
Only barely Fletcher managed to stifle his unease. Schaefer had ordered him into his office early on in the morning with a short note that had left Fletcher fearing for the worst.
"Do you know why you are here, in my office, now, lieutenant?" Schaefer wasn't referring to Fletcher with his first name like he usually did; a bad sign.
"No, Sir, I don't." Fletcher replied, feeling his unease growing exponentially by the second.
"I know full damn well what happened to Raikov before our mission in Skai! I also so happen to know you were a part of that little plot!" Schaefer shouted, ramming his palm to the table, making Fletcher flinch involuntarily, the Great Dane's ears splaying against his skull.
"S-Sir...I..."
"Silence! I know you ordered Raikov to clean cargo bay one, knowing the gang was already there, ready to make the hyena 'feel like home' so to speak!" Schaefer shouted. It was rare, very rare, for Schaefer to lose his temper and when he did... You just didn't want to be in the same room with him.
"Th-That's a lie, Sir!" Fletcher tried to fend for himself, but his little lie wasn't very well masked. He was guilty and he knew it. He also knew Schaefer would see right through him as if he was made of glass.
Suddenly Schaefer's voice was low, quiet and filled with menace "Don't think I'm stupid, lieutenant... It was very clever to have first sergeant Hicks participate in your little plan seeing how he writes the medical reports, but you forgot I could always ask a certain Husky for a second opinion. It was interesting to read contradicting reports... According to the real one, Raikov was not just beat up -that one I could've just let slip by with some shouting- but he was also raped...Several times I might add."
Fletcher didn't say anything, merely staring at the floor, not daring to look at the furious German Shepherd who had circled the desk and was standing right in front of him.
"I should have you whipped and demoted for organizing that little affair... I should also sniff out the rapists and have them court-martialed for what they did... What is it these days? Seven years of forced labor for a planned sexual assault?" Schaefer carried on in a menacing tone.
Then, suddenly, he sighed and shook his head "But what good would that do? We are few enough as it is... Not to mention Raikov seems to have been accepted by the Pack and as such his former rapists are not a threat anymore. As for you, my second in command..." Schaefer trailed off, walking over to the shelf on the left wall of the room.
Almost lovingly the Colonel opened the wooden box lying on the middle shelf, spinning then suddenly around with his plasma pistol in paw. Already the weapon was shining with a white-ish blue light as the reactor within warmed up, preparing to fire.
Fletcher whimpered out of fear as Schaefer pointed the gun between his eyes and he backed slowly away from the Colonel with his tail tugged firmly between his legs. Was the Colonel really going to shoot him? Was this going to be the end? The thoughts hammered like mallets in Fletcher's head as he watched, in utter horror, how Schaefer's finger curled on the trigger. Fletcher screamed in horror as he saw the bright flash of the searing bolt of plasma shooting out of the gun's muzzle, automatically lifting his arms up in a feeble attempt to cover his face.
Moments later Fletcher opened his eyes slowly, watching at the slightly steaming gun Schaefer was holding slowly lowering down to hang by the dog's side, the Colonel's eyes devoid of emotion as he placed the weapon back into the satin-lined wooden box.
Turning his head slightly, Fletcher saw the bolt of plasma had hit the wall behind him, the scorched crater on the steel telling the shot had missed his head by just an inch or so.
"Next time, and I do hope there won't be one, my aim will not be so poor, lieutenant... Remember rule number three: the Pack protects its own, and the matters of the Hounds stay with the Hounds. Because of that rule I won't take this matter any further, and I insist that this matter be never spoken about again...Am I making myself crystal clear, lieutenant?"
"Sir, yes, Sir..." Fletcher said meekly.
"Dismissed..."
"Yes, Sir..." Fletcher replied, slinking then out of the room as fast as he possibly could. Schaefer could be cruel and brutal if he so wished... and Fletcher had just been given a taste of the Colonel's harsh side, a side which he didn't like one bit.
"Why do you hate him so, Jericho?" Rose asked, the scarred grey wolf lying on his side in the bunk, watching at Jericho dressing up.
As Jericho didn't reply, Rose went on "I mean...Fuck! He saved us all from the rebels. If it wasn't for him we'd all be de-"
"Shut up!" Jericho snapped, baring his fangs at the other wolf "He's not like us. He's a lower lifeform, scum, worthless... Canines are superior, you should know that."
"You know I like you, Jericho...But what you are saying is stupid, elitistic and speciestic." Rose said quietly, sitting up in the bed.
Jericho bared his fangs even more, snarling angrily at the wolf whom he had thought to be his most trusted friend, but who -apparently- had fallen prey for the hyena's tricks just like the rest of the unit.
"You too, Rose? God-fucking-dammit!" Jericho shouted, storming out of the dorm, pushing Martin angrily out of his way as he went.
"Jeez...Who shat in his coffee?" Martin asked from Rose, looking towards the doorway through which the fuming Jericho had passed through.
"I guess that would be me...Well, not literally, of course, but he got a bit upset when I no longer shared his views towards Raikov." Rose replied calmly, idly rubbing at his sheath as he stood up from the bed in nothing but his fur.
Some of the other Hounds present in the dorm had been watching the scene between Rose and Jericho with curiosity, but now that the show was over they were returning back to their own businesses. Some, however, kept watching at the naked Rose padding about.
Noticing the obvious staring from some of his pals, Rose gave a slight grin and reached his fingers into his toes a if doing some stretching, giving everyone interested a good, long look at his rump, the wolf's tail curling to the side to let everyone see absolutely everything.
Martin let out a small laughter and swatted Rose's butt, making the wolf straighten his back and growl in delight. It was common knowledge that Rose enjoyed having his butt slapped a lot... Almost so much so that it could be considered a fetish.
"I think my soap will be especially slippery today in the shower..." Rose cooed softly, getting several approving whistles and growls as a response.
Now that Winters was buzzing around Raikov, Rose was swiftly rising to be the next public boytoy for the Hounds. Sure, he knew he couldn't match the somewhat effeminate charm of the Dalmatian, but he'd bloody well try his best!
"Doesn't the Colonel ever have an orderly? I mean...most of the other officers I know about have one available around the clock..." Vincent asked between mouthfuls of the grayish goo known as protein slop.
"Not usually, no." Jim replied slowly, chewing on some toast as he pondered just how to best explain it to Vincent "The Colonel thinks having an orderly to do everything for you is a sign of sloppiness and weakness. Usually he follows the regulations to the letter, but in this case he doesn't. Only when there's some really big chief coming to inspect the Hounds or there's some other celebration does he have an orderly to do things for him, because it's required by the regulations. Of course, there's also another occasion during which he has an orderly around...Those cases are rare, though."
"What kinds of cases do you mean?"
Jim shrugged, smiling slightly and blushing a little "Whenever he happens to be horny...and before you ask, yes, I've been his orderly a couple of times."
"Well I wasn't going to ask that, but thanks for the mental images anyways." Vincent said, nudging Jim to the shoulder in a friendly fashion.
"You're welcome." came the Dalmatian's reply, spiced with a smile.
"Got any plans for today? I checked the schedules and we seem to have a day sanctified fully to some R n' R." Winters asked after a brief silence.
"Nah, not really... I thought I'd maybe hit the gym or then just take it easy. Why you asking?"
Jim smiled smugly, leaning on his elbows across the table to poke Vincent's nose lightly with his own "Because I thought we could take advantage of the common room, sit on a couch, watch some TV and...oh I dunno...cuddle?"
"Mmmm...Sounds like a plan to me." Vincent replied, smiling softly back at the Dalmatian. Placing his index finger onto Jim's forehead Vincent pushed the Dalmatian back onto his seat "But we are not going anywhere, mister, until we've finished breakfast."
The rest of the breakfast went on swiftly with Jim wolfing down his remaining food whilst still managing to keep up a light-hearted, casual conversation, discussing in more depth about what they liked and what they disliked. During that very conversation Vincent found out, that deep down under the slutty exterior Jim housed a soft spot for romance; something that made Vincent's ears heat up in delight, leading the hyena to be glad the black fur coating his ears hid the blushing.
After finishing -in a hurry- their breakfast, Jim and Vincent made their way down the winding corridors of the ship towards the common room. In the middle of their casual strolling, Jim took a hold of Vincent's arm and draped it around his shoulders, leaning then against the slightly larger hyena and wrapping his arms around Vincent's waist.
Smiling softly Vincent leaned his cheek against the top of Jim's head, rubbing them slowly together a couple of times. It felt nice to walk like that with someone again. Just the way he had done before joining up, before the army, with a good friend of his.
The common room was as large as the Hounds' dorm with lot of spare time activities to choose from: old-fashioned pool tables, couches, recliners with an access to the Federation-spanning internet and a vast collection of music and books in electronic form, a couple of TVs and the entire left-paw wall was lined with the bulky shapes of simulator coffins, all of them open and ready for use.
Mostly the room was empty save for the odd few Hounds playing pool and a couple of the ship's standing crew watching TV or surfing the net. Vincent hadn't been surprised to notice the vast majority of Triumphant's crew were canines, considering the obviously fierce pride the Hounds took as an all-canine unit...Well, nowadays all-canine with one exception.
Jim plopped down onto the couch situated farthest away from every other place, idly flicking through the channels until he found something he deemed worth watching: Wanzer Gladiators, essentially a show with fur-piloted mechas fighting in huge arenas for supremacy. It was a fairly popular show, aired on roughly sixty percent of the planets belonging to the Federation plus on a few that weren't part of it (some had remained independent during the founding of the Federation).
Vincent looked at the couch approvingly. It was made of brown faux leather and it had obviously been used a lot; so worn and comfy it looked. As Vincent seated himself onto it, right next to Jim, he wasn't disappointed. The couch felt every bit as comfy as it looked, made that way by hundreds of butts forming and shaping it up to be the way it was now.
As if the couch wasn't good enough already, it was made that much better by Jim snuggling up right next to Vincent, the Dalmatian's head resting softly on Vincent's toned chest. Giggling slightly, he was a hyena afterall, Vincent wrapped his arm around Jim and pulled him a little more firmly against himself. The thumping of the dog's tail against the couch told Vincent the act had been muchly appreciated.
A perky female dingo in a tight red dress was acting as the announcer for the show and, by the looks of it, a new match was just about to begin, huge titanium gates swinging open to reveal the Wanzers.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Today will be started with a blaaaaast! We will be witnessing a tag-team annihilation match! As you may or may not know, an annihilation match will not end until one or the other team is completely unable to move."
A black robot, looking fairly humanoid in appearance walked through the gate, followed by a tan robot -also humanoid in appearance. The tan robot was clearly bulkier and more heavily armored with several rough-ish edges, whilst the black one was more sleek and slender.
"Aaaaaand here's our first team! These two newcomers have taken the Federate Wanzer Gladiator Entertainment by a storm, having won both solo and tag-team combats without a single loss! Piloting the black Wanzer 'Eternal' we have Jim Graven, and seated in the tan Wanzer 'Damnation' is Charles Pewter! Now for the opponent--"
"Mmmm...You like the Wanzer Gladiators too?" Jim asked quietly.
"Yeah...Been watching 'em for years now. I've always been a big fan of Rico Waldez, the pilot of 'Wyvern'. Two times FWGE Intergalactic Champion and a general badass...What's there not to like?"
Jim nodded softly "I've only been watching them for a short while...Probably a year or so and I haven't figured out any favorite yet, though I agree Waldez is a real badass...and he's cute to boot with!"
Vincent burst into a hearty laughter, ruffling the headfur of Jim a little "You silly dog...But I tend to agree, his tiger-butt looks real good in those tight leather pants he wears."
With that the conversation once more died out, both Vincent and Jim focusing into watching the titanic robots beating the living tar out of each other in an urban environment. The two of them felt content just sitting like that, watching macho guy-stuff from TV whilst cuddling. It was -so far- definitely the best time Vincent had spent in the Hounds.
Still, inside, Vincent knew Jim was doing it all just to get some tail...well, in Jim's case it was probably all about getting something under his tail. Then again...Wasn't it always all about sex in dating? Didn't everyone, at least subconsciously, desire and hope for sex when dating? Even more importantly...Was this a date he was having with Jim?
The sheer amount of questions unanswered made Vincent's head spin, so he thought it best not to think about it too much. If something was going to happen...Ah heck, he'd let it happen. Jim was certainly nice enough and Vincent himself had made the first move anyways.
The receptionist's chair creaked quietly as Rey eased himself against the back rest of it, idly twiddling a pen in his fingers whilst using the other paw to write up an e-mail, the Husky's fingers dancing steadily on the computer's keyboard.
For a moment the dog paused, putting the pen down, too, to dig out a small plastic slate with a couple of buttons on it. Rey pressed one of the four red buttons and the picture viewer activated, a digital image appearing onto the screen.
Rey smiled softly. In the first picture to pop up was a group of five Huskies one of which was clearly Rey, easily picked up from amidst the others due to him having the only black-hued backfur. Rey's mother and two sisters had a grey pelt of fur on their backs -with, naturally, white on the underbelly- and his father had a light-brown backfur.
Rey clicked the second lowest button and the picture changed. It was a lot older picture of Rey riding on the broad shoulders of his grandfather -from his mother's side- with a clear smile on both of their muzzles. Interestingly Rey's grandfather had a furcoat very similar to that of Rey, giving the Husky a good idea from where exactly his dark fur had come from.
Idly Rey flicked through the rest of the ten-or-so pictures before powering the device down and pocketing it again. The chair creaked softly again as he shifted himself closer to the edge of it, his fingers once more dancing over and across the keyboard.
_Hi there! I know it's been a while since I last wrote to you, but for my defense I can say it's been pretty busy around here. I hope you've been alright... Is dad's knee still acting up? As for me... I've been good, as usual, and still in one piece.
Oh! Did you receive the money I sent? I know you said I didn't have to send any if I didn't want to, but I still want to help as much as I can. On a sidenote we've gotten ourselves a new recruit. You wouldn't believe my amazement when I first saw him... I've told you how the Hounds are an all-canine unit, right? Well Raikov, the new guy, is a Hyena. He had it rough at first, but now just about everyone's accepting him after he saved our hineys during our last mission.
I must say... Raikov is a real hottie! It's nice to have some variation into the canines in here. Once again, I hope you all are doing alright. I'll try and write again as soon as I can._
Love you all lots!
-Rey
Rey spent a moment reading through everything he had written and, satisfied with his work, sent the message. It'd take a day or two for it to reach his parents via the tachyon transmit line, but that was just something Rey had to live with.
He truly considered himself lucky for having such a great family. They all -even his big sis who liked to pick on him when he was little- took it really well when he had gotten out of the closet, claiming no matter where he "put it" he was still their one and only son.
Rey's ponderings came to a halt as something red, white and green hopped over the reception table and landed right onto his lap, making Rey let out a surprised "Oooph".
"Hiya Slap-Patch." The newcomer said with a broad smile.
Private Jake "Chibi" Emersson, an ever perky and cheery fox, a kindred spirit to Jim Winters, had made a landing onto Rey's lap, sitting straddled on the Husky.
"Hiya, Chibi. What brings...Ah what the heck, I know why you are here. Prostate exam, right?" Rey said in a casual, friendly tone.
"Only if you are in the mood for it, Rey..." Jake replied seductively, draping his arms around Rey's neck and pressing a soft kiss onto the Husky's lips; a kiss to which Rey gladly answered, draping one of his arms around Jake's back and grabbing the fox's rump with the other.
After a moment Jake broke away from the kiss, drawing back to look Rey square into the eye.
"Any place where we can have my prostate examined, oh doctor?" the fox asked coyly, his bushy tail waving slowly in enjoyment.
"All the wards are free... Isolation room number one sound good to you?" Rey answered with a twinkle in his eye and, upon getting a nod from Jake, stood up with the fox on his arms, Jake's arms loosely draped around his neck.
Moments later the door of isolation room number one slid shut behind Rey and Jake, the lights turning on with the touch of a button. The isolation rooms were used to house those patients with contagious diseases -such as stomach flu- in order to prevent them from infecting any more furs. With the Hounds vaccinated against diseases, though, the rooms were largely unused save for the occasional pair or trio sneaking in to have some privacy.
Rey placed the fox stomach down onto the bed -the only thing in the room aside from a small closet for the patient's clothing and a bedside table- and swatted Jake onto the butt with a lusty growl, the fox replying by waving his tail in excitement and looking over his shoulder with a grin.
"Alright, private Emersson, I need you to take your pants off and then bend over and lift your tail so I can get your prostate examined." Rey said in a formal tone whilst snapping on a rubber glove, looking every bit as professional as he could. The only things breaking the illusion of a doctor giving his patient an examination were the obvious boner Rey had and the casual wagging of the dog's tail.
Jake played along with Rey's little game, trying his best to look like he thought a worried patient should... and failing miserably in that, unable to suck in his grin-like smile. Having planned everything beforehand, Jake easily took off his unlaced boots, hiding them under the hospital bed for the time being.
Slowly, intentionally, teasingly he unbuckled his belt, popped open the button and unzipped the fly of his cargos. The fox's hips swayed lightly as he lowered his pants and boxers lower and lower, revealing -inch by inch- his rump, thighs and legs, his tail swaying to the side as if by accident to let Rey see absolutely everything.
A slight giggle erupted from Jake's muzzle as Rey let out a tormented whimper, knowing the Husky was having a hard time trying to keep his cool around the seductive vulpine. Stepping out of the pants pooled around his ankles, Jake pulled his shirt over his head and placed it neatly to the side, leaning then his chest against the bed with his rump stuck out just the way Rey had instructed him to do.
"Will this do, doctor?" Jake asked with a poorly masked air of casualness.
"Very muchly so. Now do relax yourself, this may or may not feel a little uncomfortable. It all depends on your, ahem, preferences." Rey answered, smearing lubricant onto the middle and index fingers of the rubber glove. With his paw nice and slick, Rey stepped behind Jake, shifting the fox's tail aside with his free paw, marveling at the sight of the pert orange-red mounds, enhanced by the white fur on Jake's inner thighs and crotch, and the pink tailhole of the foxy.
Rey had to swallow hard to try and gather himself a little. He had a soft spot for foxes, always had had, and it was that fact which was making his body shiver slightly with barely contained lust and excitement. Gently the Husky medic slipped his lubed middle finger into Jake's tailhole, probing around for a moment in search of the fox's prostate.
Jake moaned softly as Rey moved his finger inside him, his moaning going up an octave for a second as the Husky scored a hit onto his prostate, causing the fox to instinctively bend over a little more and lift his tail better up despite the fact it was well out of the way thanks to Rey's other paw.
Smiling softly, unable to hold it in any longer, Rey pushed his index finger into Jake's lovehole, moving his fingers slowly back and forth, rubbing over the vulpine's prostate. Jake responded by squirming slightly and letting out quiet yipping and moaning, the fox's erection jutting clearly out from between his legs.
Jake's tailhole felt warm and smooth around Rey's fingers, the warmth clear even through the layer of latex that was the rubber glove. For good measure the Husky kept moving his fingers back and forth slowly, ensuring he was lubricating Jake up properly.
"Everything would seem to be alright, though I believe I have to use another instrument in order to be one hundred percent sure." Rey said calmly, pulling his fingers out of Jake's lovehole and snapping the glove off of it, casting it to the litter bin in the corner.
"If you say so, doctor."
Leaning his head to his paw, Jake watched with a smile how the gorgeous black-and-white, blue-eyed Husky disposed of his clothing quickly, tossing one piece of garment after another aside.
Nude save for his dogtags and fur, Rey took his place behind Jake, firm paws clasping the fox's lithe hips. Jake kept his tail lifted for Rey, the fox once more leaning his head down onto his arms and sticking his rump out. Jake just loved it, the feeling of another male's cock moving inside him, the sensation of unity brought by tying and the indescribable joy brought by someone's seed filling him.
The first of Jake's desires was filled as Rey slipped his rigid, tapered maleness all the way to the hilt into him with ease, causing a slight squeal of ecstasy to slip from the vulpine's slim muzzle. Jake's body rocked back and forth with Rey's motions as the Husky begun to mate with him.
Jake felt every bit as warm as one could be, the fox's tailhole wrapping around Rey's doghood constantly like a smooth, warm velvet glove. Rey let a long, deep and contented sigh slip out of his muzzle, his head hanging back with his eyes closed and his tongue lolling out of the side of his muzzle. Jake just moaned and whimpered quietly, his voice muffled by the bed against which he was pressing his face.
Rey wrapped his arms around Jake and pulled the fox's back against his chest, resting his muzzle on Jake's shoulder whilst slowly bucking his hips against Jake's rump. Jake steadied himself as best he could by supporting himself with his paws, the fox's eyes slightly shut in enjoyment. Rey felt so warm, so strong and so gentle... As always. Jake knew, however, that the Husky had a wilder side too, but he was glad it wasn't showing up right now. It was nice for a change to have someone tender and loving as a lover as opposed to some of the wilder guys amongst the Hounds.
Growling softly Rey nipped at Jake's neck and shoulder, his fangs touching the supple skin underneath the fox's fur gently, making him visibly tremble with delight, the exquisit sensation made much more so by the short, fast stabs Rey was making with his hips, poking his swelling knot against Jake's tailhole which was slowly but surely giving in.
Jake knew his second craving was about to be realized as Rey's knot started grow larger and larger, passing soon the point at which he'd be ready to tie. Jake gripped the edge of the bed more firmly and willed himself to relax as much as he could, focusing on the feeling of Rey's warm, toned chest pressing against his back.
As Rey drew himself almost completely out of Jake, the fox bit his lower lip a little, knowing Rey was about to tie with him, a warm smile curling onto the fox's muzzle. Jake's smile only widened, his head jerking back and a long, quivering moan erupting from him as Rey thrust his hips forward again with force, driving his knot deep into Jake's tailhole with relative ease.
Rey let out an audible grunt as he tied with Jake, knowing his endurance was growing thin. Jake squeezed his tailhole as tight as he possibly could around that highly sensitive part of Rey's doghood just behind his knot, causing Rey's paws to contract in uncontrollable enjoyment.
Rey kept on pumping his hips back and forth, his motions severely hindered by his knot locked firmly into Jake's rump. Smoothly the Husky ran his tongue across the back of Jake's ear, nipping lightly at the tip of it before whispering "You ready, baby?"
"Gimme your best shot, stud..." Jake responded, his voice a mere breathless whisper as he worked one of his paws furiously along his own, throbbing hardon, trying his damnest to climax at the same time with Rey.
With a light growl Rey rammed his hips one last time against the fox's rump, knowing that'd be the last drop which would shatter the dam. The Husky threw his head back and let out an audible howl which melted into a moan, his seed bursting into Jake's rump, filling the fox's passage and granting him thusly his third desire.
Jake, nearing seventh heaven, reached his own orgasm only moments after Rey, spilling his seed into a messy puddle onto the floor, his only supporting arm shaking and, ultimately, giving in. If it hadn't been for Rey's strong arms holding him up, the fox would've collapsed onto the floor right then and there.
With Jake firmly in his arms, Rey clambered onto the bed to lie in a spooning position, slowly nuzzling against Jake's cheek with his eyes closed. Sure, as he was the sick bay "slave", he'd have to change the sheets afterwards, but it'd be totally worth it. They could easily take a nap, too, as dinner was still a couple of hours away anyways.
Letting out a satisfied huff Jake put one of his arms underneath his head, rubbing Rey's shin gently with his foot and simply basking in the feeling of unity and mutual affection. Rey felt so warm against him...Always had and always would.
Neither of the two wanted to spoil the moment with words, so instead they remained in silence, listening to the background noises of the ship and the slowly steadying breathing of each other. In a few minutes they both let the veil of sleep fall onto themselves, both of them more than happy they were part of The Raging Hounds, for it was a place where what they had was not scorned, but rather encouraged.
Vincent jumped over a knee-high garden wall made of ornate concrete. All around him he could hear the staccato of machineguns and various other sounds of battle. Half of his face had been torn off by a shrapnel, a bloody bandage hastily wrapped around the wound to stop the bleeding. He had been really lucky that time, the shrapnel having only ever scratched his face instead of blowing half of it apart.
In his paws Vincent clutched a very powerful handgun, the Fabrique Rockichelli .55 which was a variant of the age-old Terran gun known as Desert Eagle. Vincent's pulse rifle had been torn to shreds by the very same shrapnel that had damn near killed him, so he had to rely onto his sidearm.
Not that the pistol would've been a bad weapon... He had already dropped three enemies with it and he was thirsty for more.
Landing onto the other side of the garden wall, Vincent rolled along the ground and ducked behind a large oak growing in the middle of the garden. In front of him was the mansion, the strongpoint of the enemy and the prime target of him and his team mates.
Jim hopped next to Vincent, leaning his back against the oak with a grin on his muzzle. Unlike Vincent, who wore his usual combat uniform save for the helmet which he had lost, Jim sported a variant of the same uniform, though the Dalmatian didn't have the helmet or the ballistic chest plate and his uniform had a camo metro pattern on it, the visual image of a badass enhanced by a bandolier of shotgun bullets slung across his chest and the cap he held backwards on his head, his ears sticking out of holes cut into the cap to make it usable by furries.
"Anything new?" Jim asked casually, pushing a couple of new rounds into his shotgun and then chambering one with an audible click.
"Nah...I don't see any snipers, but I wouldn't count on their complete absence. They DO have Smokey and Deadeye, afterall, and I'm pretty sure the latter is holding onto his rifle. Not to mention...Rose is on their side, so we should be prepared for booby traps." Vincent replied calmly. He was feeling slightly dizzy due to the loss of blood, but thanks to the miracle of painkillers and a shot of adrenaline he was hanging there quite well.
"Storm them?" Jim asked and Vincent just nodded.
They had to pass across twenty paces of open field before reaching the relative safety of the mansion's exterior...Not a problem.
With a nod the two stood up and made a run for it. Almost immediately a C-18 pulse assault rifle started to bark angrily, kicking up small geysers of grass and dirt right behind Vincent. One of the bullets nicked at the Hyena's tail, making Vincent snarl in pain and anger before diving head first to the cover of the wall, almost knocking the wind from his lungs that way.
A second later Jim grabbed Vincent by the neck and yanked him up.
"No time to lie down and take a nap, handsome. We've got a game to win!" Jim said merrily, swatting Vincent's shoulder in a friendly fashion before trudging along.
Moments later the lock on the mansion's door was shot to hell with a single well-placed solid-slug shot from Jim's shotgun. Vincent kicked the door open and burst in, diving down almost immediately as he saw Hall taking aim at him with his pulse rifle.
Hall's bullets zipped over Vincent's head as Vincent sailed through the air, pulling the trigger time and again. Automatically everything seemed to go in slow-motion as the game added some dramatics to it, making it that much more fun to review afterwards.
Whereas Hall's bullets went wide, Vincent's found their mark, the black wolf's body jerking violently as the large caliber bullets drilled right through his chest plate, blood gushing from the large holes. Still in slow-motion Hall was blown off his feet, descending towards the floor back first just as Vincent hit the intricately decorated red carpet.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the game brought the bullet time to an end, Hall's lifeless corpse crashing to the marble floor with a loud thud and clatter.
Just as Vincent was about to stand up, the door to his right was kicked open and Martin burst through it, already taking aim with his own pulse rifle. Vincent knew he couldn't dodge in the helpless position he was in, his face turning stern as he waited for his game to end.
Before Martin could shoot, however, Jim fired his shotgun. Martin was thrown violently sideways, a burst of blood, bones and mangled meat erupting from the black jackal's right side. Martin was thrown, lifeless, into a pool of his own blood, his lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.
Vincent clambered hastily onto his feet and gave Jim thumbs-up for a job well done. Jim replied by winking an eye as he hurried past Vincent. The Dalmatian had barely entered the large hall beyond the short corridor before his head shattered, the spray of gore accompanied by the loud bang of a sniper rifle.
As if that wasn't enough, Rose burst through the door Martin had used, his plasma rifle swinging towards Vincent, the weapon's magnetic coils and muzzle glowing with bluish-white light.
Vincent did the only thing he could in that position: he charged, snarling a fierce battlecry. He swung his pistol like it was a baton, swatting the barrel of Rose's gun away from him, the burst of searing hot plasma smashing harmlessly to the wall.
The game had, again, slowed time down for a more dramatic recap, and as time returned back to normal, Vincent rammed his forehead between Rose's eyes, making the wolf stagger backwards, dazed.
Taking advantage from Rose's moment of weakness, Vincent smashed the barrel of his pistol to the lupine's temple, sinking then his fangs into Rose's throat. Jaws which, originally in the long distant past, nature had designed to crush bones were still just as powerful, Rose's windpipe shattering with ease, the slightly coppery taste of blood flowing into Vincent's muzzle, a gush of blood from a ruptured artery staining Vincent's jaw and face red.
Vincent slammed his palm to the chest of the suffocating wolf, sending the, by then, limp body crashing to the floor.
He didn't get to savor his victory for long, however, as someone grabbed his jaw from behind, wrenched his head upwards and slit his throat with a knife. Vincent fell down onto his knees, desperately clutching at his bleeding throat. He turned his head to look at the face of a smiling dingo -Deadeye the sniper- who clutched a bloodstained combat knife in his paws.
The dingo mouthed something like "Game over", but Vincent couldn't be quite sure as his hearing had suddenly gone and his vision was growing dimmer by the second.
A second later everything went black for a moment, before Vincent got an eagle-eye view of the situation, hovering like a ghost above his corpse. With a thought he summoned up the player roster, snorting lightly as he saw Deadeye was the last enemy remaining... and his team was completely annihilated.
Everyone was laughing in good spirits, comparing experiences and toweling themselves dry of the neural link juice in which they had been immersed in during the time they had been in the simulators, some of them already watching the recording of their match.
Vincent and Jim had been asked to join the game a large bunch of other Hounds were having and, after a brief discussion, they had agreed.
"Damn! It sure was fun putting on the automated bullet-time mode." John said in his usual, sandpaper-rough voice.
Jim nodded "Agreed. Even without that the match would've been awesome, but the bullet-time just added a new level of kickass to it... Though I have to say -and you can call me a spoilsport for this if you want to- I like the regular mode better."
Vincent, having already dressed up again (they had played with only their boxers on) was starting to head out when someone grabbed him by the arm. Turning his head around to look who it was, Vincent couldn't help but raise a brow.
Standing in a semi-circle behind him, looking apologetic with drooping ears and meek-ish expressions, were Frost, Hall, Rose, Watkins and Hicks. It was Rose who had a hold of Vincent's arm, but he let go almost immediately after he had gotten Vincent's attention.
"We uhh..." Rose began at length. He had been chosen via quick voting to be their representative on the matter and he was finding it to be quite a hard task "I... I know you are angry at us for... past events and we are fairly sure you'll never forgive us, but... We wanted to apologize anyways."
Vincent snorted. So now they were apologizing? 'Sorry we beat you up, humiliated you, raped you and almost caused permanent mental damage to you'? Vincent clenched his paw into a fist, trembling slightly with anger.
"Wildfire... I'm fairly sure you feel like beating us all up and if you did... We wouldn't blame you. I just hope you understand a couple of things. Firstly, the Hounds have almost always been an all-canine unit and we take fierce pride in it, which led us to be blinded to just how great a guy you are. You truly have the soul of a Hound. Secondly, we all owe our lives to you. You saved our tails in Skai despite all the things we've done to you and we'll be forever in debt to you for that." Rose held a small pause, trying to gather his scattering thoughts before continuing "Lastly... Well... I don't know if you consider this to be much of a promise, but we swear we've changed our ways. You have our respect, man."
Vincent didn't say anything for almost a full minute, considering the Timberwolf's every word carefully. Sure, Rose seemed sincere, but the past actions... Those haunted Vincent. Little by little, however, Vincent uncurled his fist, sighing deep and shaking his head lightly.
"They say forgiveness is a virtue... I'm finding it hard, but... apology accepted." Vincent said slowly, lifting his head up to look at the assorted canines standing around him, a faint grin caressing the Hyena's face "Make no mistake, though. You guys are assholes, but the Hounds have to stick together if we want to come out on the top, no pun intended."
Vincent's remark roused a roaring laughter out of the Hounds, most of those standing on the sidelines sighing in relief as the tense situation dissolved.
"However... Just uhh... I, too, would like to apologize for snapping at you like that last night. I'm also not used to such open displays of affection, so... Gimme some time, alright?" Vincent added, making the Hounds around him murmur and nod in agreement.
Vincent's place in the Hounds had been firmly secured with vast majority of the canines accepting him as an equal. Jericho was still Jericho, though... but the wolf was now in minority, so it wasn't that big a problem.
One more chapter brought to conclusion. But wait! More is still to come as the Raging Hounds return in the next thrilling, exciting and yiffalicious chapter "Good, clean fun?"
The universe is vast and I have mountains of inspiration for it still remaining. =)