The Raging Hounds VI: Boys' Night Out
#6 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.
The GFS Triumphant hung on low orbit around the planet Alacast Prime, the planet -a criss-cross of gigantic megalopolises, countryside and forests- spinning lazily around, performing it's twenty six hour rotation slowly but surely.
On board the Triumphant the Hounds were in full swing with their preparations, dumping army greens into their footlockers and pulling out a myriad of civilian clothing. Whereas the matching greens of the Marine Corps had somewhat dulled -at least outwardly- the personalities of the Hounds, the civilian clothes brought them starkly out.
Rey looked like a page out of a raver's handbook with his deep dark-grey, baggy, chain-adorned jeans, cloth bracers that extended from his wrists to his elbows, a black net shirt and a black vest with raging neon-green tribals on it, the whole image topped off by a black collar around his neck. Vincent couldn't help but grin at it, dogs and their liking to collars... Smokey, on the other paw, represented what seemed to be a slight majority among the group: tight jeans, suitable shoes and a neat buttoned-up collar shirt.
Vincent felt himself grow a little hot on the face as he looked at Jim's outfit which consisted of skin-tight leather pants -out of which the strings of a black thong could be seen- a sleeveless black net shirt and a leather collar.
Vincent himself had opted to go for something more modest, namely blue jeans -still around even to that date due to their durability and popularity- a tight red T-shirt and a denim jacket which matched his pants, the whole image topped off by a simple silver chain he hung around his neck instead of the dogtags.
"So how are we going to get onto the surface of Alacast, guys?" Vincent asked all of a sudden, looking around the faces of the other Hounds in search of an answer, only getting shrugs and pensive looks in return.
"That... Is an excellent question, Wildfire, and I think I've got just the solution for you all." A mature, calm voice said from the corner of the room, making everyone's heads turn towards the speaker, a middle-aged, buff and incredibly scarred malamute -his left eye milky white with a nasty scar trailing vertically over it- who was standing with his arms crossed next to Dan, the wolf once again seated into a recliner and leaning against his paw.
"Master sergeant Rowalski? What are you doing here amidst us grunts?" Sergeant Frost asked, the collie's head tilted slightly to the side as he looked at the master sergeant.
Rowalski ran a paw through his crew-cut corn-colour hair, his muzzle curling into a smile, before he gave his answer "You boys need a ride, so of course I'm here in the position of your chauffeur... and naturally good ol' Rapier will be your carriage, kind Sirs." Rowalski's imitation of an aristocrat's servant rose a fit of hearty laughter from the Hounds. Of course they should've known that it'd be Rowalski and the crew of The Saint's Rapier who would be taking them planetside, just like the did during missions.
Suddenly the dorm's door slid open and Schaefer strode in, telling everyone "At ease, as you were..." before anyone had a chance to shout for attention or anything like that.
Schaefer stopped into the middle of the room, turning around slowly to sweep everyone with his gaze which seemed to bore into the very heart and soul of everyone present; and this time around Schaefer wasn't even angry.
"I want you all to be on your best behavior whilst planetside... I'm quite aware of the fact this unit has the reputation of 'badass-tailraiser-faggots', and I know that will provoke some, but do your best to avoid conflict in any way, shape or form." Schaefer allowed his words to sink in for a moment before his muzzle split into a devilish grin "...But if it escalates into a fist-fight, make damn sure you give them hell and don't bring disgrace to the Twelft Marine Company by losing."
The Hounds howled and whistled in approval to the Colonel's words, some of them even punching their fists to the air. With an approving nod Schaefer whipped about and walked away, stopping momentarily in the doorway to call over his shoulder "Sergeant Austin? I suppose you are up to a round of chess tonight?"
"Sir, yes, Sir." Dan replied like a clockwork machine and with his reply Schaefer left.
"Wait, wait, wait... Longfang's not coming with us? Why?" Vincent asked, casting an almost longing glance at the buff wuffie. He had hoped to get to spend the night with Longfang to see how the burly sergeant spent his free time but, apparently, that wasn't going to happen.
Dan lifted his head a little to look at Vincent, a shadow of a reserved smile on the wolf's muzzle "Because there are quite a few rumors and a lot of superstition revolving around me and my kind, us genetically altered soldiers with the dragons' Warrior Gene embedded to us. That...Is highly likely to provoke people, especially if they are drunk."
"Well that's not fair at all..." Vincent replied, crossing his arms across his chest and frowning deeply.
"Well you know the saying...Life is a big, fat bitch and then you die." Dan said, chuckling lightly.
Vincent couldn't come up with anything witty to say, so instead he opted to remain silent, standing there with his arms crossed and frowning. A pair of arms sneaking about him made Vincent return back to the real world, even more so since one of the white, spotted arms coiled around his chest whilst the other one slid about his waist, the paw of the latter grabbing his crotch and giving it a slight squeeze.
"Don't be such a stormcrow, Vinnie...Longfang likes it here, even more so since he gets to play some games with Schaefer." Jim whispered into Vincent's ear, the Dalmatian spicing up his words by giving Vincent's ear a tormentingly slow lick which dripped sex and seduction, causing Vincent's sulky mood to shatter into millions of tiny pieces.
"Oi! Don't go hogging him all to yourself, Winters!" Rey shouted, stepping in front of Vincent to drape his arms around the hyena's neck in order to plant a kiss onto his lips. With Jim groping his crotch and Rey kissing the living hell out of him, Vincent couldn't help but feel cheered up.
Rey was an excellent kisser, the Husky's head tilted slightly to the side as he slowly but surely meshed his muzzle with Vincent's, the dog's tongue sliding all over Vincent's muzzle whilst Jim continued to massage Vincent's crotch, causing Vincent to lose control and let out a contented moan into the kiss, making several of the Hounds whilstle and cheer.
Needless to say, the only one NOT enjoying the scene was Jericho, a deep frown on the wolf's face as he watched Jim and Rey go for it with the Hyena. Rowalski noticed Jericho wasn't too happy, so the Malamute grabbed Jericho's head into a light strangle hold, bent the wolf down slightly and started to noogie him.
"Cheer up, puppy...It's a night out for you all, so there'll be no sulking. Do I make myself clear?" Rowalski asked whilst rubbing his knuckles roughly against Jericho's scalp.
"Yes...Yes, for the love of god yes, Sir." Jericho replied, earning thus his freedom. Everyone was against him, it seemed. Rose had betrayed him and now even master sergeant Rowalski was turning his back at him. Jericho's list of allies was running thin indeed. So thin, infact, that upon thinking about it for a moment he found out he had no allies left save for one: lieutenant Brad "Eltee" Fletcher. The Great Dane wasn't much, but it'd be enough... However, Jericho knew he'd have to bide his time in order to get his revenge. It couldn't be done tonight, but, perhaps, during one of their missions Raikov might be facing a little "accident"...
Two hours later the ragtag bunch better known as The Raging Hounds In Civilian Clothing were marching in a most unmilitaristic formation as can be down the streets of a huge complex built solely for the purposes of Marines' recreational purposes, located right next to the landing pads. Only one absent of the ones allowed to go onto the shore leave was Jericho, having claimed that he was both too tired and not in the mood to go planetside with the others. Of this Vincent was secretly happy; he didn't want to have Jericho staring at him constantly with those malicious eyes of his.
The main street of the vast dome-like complex was lined with shops, diners, actual restaurants, brothels and, most importantly, pubs, bars and nightclubs. The whole dome was packed with furs walking about, some of them in parade uniforms, most in civilians, but they all still bore the insignia of their company or unit on them somewhere, whether it was a patch sewn to the sleeve or back of a shirt or then a wristband.
During their travel to the planetside, the Hounds had agreed to stick together just in case, the rainbow armlets and necklaces -displayed proudly and openly- earning the group more than a few croocked glances from the other marines.
Eventually, after having walked for a good thirty minutes, the Hounds found a place very much to their liking: a bar/nightclub simply named "Jarhead", the name of the place making a few of the Hounds snicker as they marched inside. There were no bouncers at the doorway, because none were needed. Squads of military police in full riot gear patrolled the streets vigilantly and any disorder was settled with brutal swiftness and efficiency.
Vincent couldn't help but grin a little as they all made it inside and loud techno/trance music blasted against him, combined with the heavy smell of cigs, alcohol and musk. The lighting was dim and a faint mist, created by a smoke machine near the large dance floor, was only ever adding to the cozy feeling.
A nudge to the ribs caught Vincent's attention. It was Jim, latching himself onto one of Vincent's arms whilst Rey did the same with Vincent's other arm.
"The three of us should get some drinks and find a seat." Jim said, grinning broadly and wagging his tail, looking cute and charming -even more so than normally- in the misty, dim lighting of the nightclub.
"Yeah, lessee if you can hold your liquor, Vincent." Rey added, and together the two dogs -with Vincent firmly in tow- pushed their way to the bar counter.
Jim waved to one of the bartenders -a badger in pressed black pants and a white collar shirt with the bar's name on the chest- to get his order made.
"Two beers for me and the Husky and..." Jim hesitated for a moment, thinking what was the best drink to get to Vincent for starters "...Orintian Napalm for the hyena."
"Orintian Napalm...?" Vincent asked. He had never, ever, not ever in his life heard of such a drink.
Jim merely smiled, but it was Rey who managed to answer first "It's a fairly popular drink amongst the marines. It's strong as fuck, but it tastes heavenly. And don't go saying you don't have the guts -in more than one sense- to down the drink."
The badger lined up the drinks to the counter and Jim paid for them. Vincent looked at his own drink in amazement. It looked indeed as if the glass was filled with roiling, burning napalm, though that image was broken by the icecubes floating about amongst the "napalm".
Jim led the way to a small vacant corner table, the three of them grabbing a seat in silence.
"To the Hounds." Rey said suddenly, lifting up his glass of beer. Jim and Vincent repeated the gesture and, simultaneously, the three of them took a big gulp of their chosen drink.
As the "napalm" slid down Vincent's throat, he didn't feel anything at first save for the indeed pleasant taste of the drink. But then, a few seconds later, Vincent's throat felt like it was in flames, the hyena succumbing to a serie of hacking coughs, his eyes watering. However, just as soon as it had begun, it ended and Vincent was able to straighten up, having doubled over from the coughing.
"Damn this stuff is strong..." Vincent managed to mumble. Still, the alcohol felt like it was warming him from the inside quite nicely and he sure as heck wasn't complaining about how the drink looked.
"Yeah, it's sorta meant to be drank slowly, but, and I'm sorry about this, we couldn't resist the urge to give you that strong a drink. Besides... It fits you, ya? Napalm for the Wildfire!" Rey exclaimed, patting Vincent to the shoulder.
Vincent threw a playful punch at the shoulders of both Jim and Rey, laughing wholeheartedly at the two silly dogs "You guys are nuts, but I like you regardless." Jim and Rey's tails could be seen wagging lightly.
Vincent fell silent for a moment, contemplating whether he should ask the guestion rolling around in his head. with a slow, depp inhale he opened his muzzle, braved hismelf and asked "I couldn't help but notice you...aren't quite like the majority of canines I know, Jim. How come you don't have a knot n' all that? I mean...You don't have to answer if you don't feel..."
Jim cut Vincent off by waving a paw dismissively, a big smile on the Dalmatian's face as he leaned a bit closer to be better heard over the sounds of the club around them "It's really quite simple. Well...That is if you had been awake in both history and biology during school." The comment earned Jim a mocked sneer from Vincent "You should know, that the origins of us Edenians lie on ancient Terra and that we were once humans, made this way through highly sophisticated genetic alteration and engineering. Now, for my cock and why it's so different from, say, Rey's. With canines there were two 'schools' of belief; one preferred the more humanesque bits over the more canine ones and vice versa. This, in turn, led to two canine sub-families being born. Rey is a Canidus Sapiens whilst I'm a Homo Canidus. Well...Homo in more than just one way." Jim concluded, winking softly at Vincent who felt himself blush a little.
Rey slung an arm over Vincent's shoulders and rubbed their cheeks briefly together, the Husky's tail swishing lazily, patting against the seat "Yup, good ol' Jim just about summed it up for you, but I've got something I want to ask from you, too."
"Well what is it? Ask away, ask away...Answer will be a wholly different thing, though." Vincent replied with a smug grin.
Rey slipped off of his seat and took hold of Vincent's paw, nudging then his head towards the dance floor with a broad smile on his face "Care to dance, handsome?"
Vincent hesitated only a second before slipping off of his seat with a big grin of his own "Lead on. If you dance as well as you kiss..." He left the sentence hanging, allowing Rey to lead him on with Jim following soonafter.
On board the Triumphant Colonel Schaefer was seated in his office with sergeant Dan on the other side of the table, a chessboard between the two of them. For the most part up until then they had remained silent, contemplating their next moves and trying to guess what the other was going to do and how to counter it.
Schaefer was the first one to break the silence, just like he always did "I can't help but notice you've taken a liking to our licensed pyromaniac Raikov." the German Shepherd said, opening the conversation in an almost bored, highly casual tone which didn't seem to fit the usually so sharp and authorative Colonel.
"Once more you prove to be quite aware of your surroundings, colonel. Yes, I have 'taken a liking' to Raikov." Dan responded in an equally casual tone, shifting his horse then so that it threatened one of Schaefer's pawns.
Schaefer lifted an eyebrow, interlacing then his fingers and leaning his chin on top of them to fix his piercing gaze into Dan "Any particular reason for that?"
"Because I see much of myself in him. He's not like the rest of the unit, he's been shunned for it and, apparently, now accepted. Just like me. I remember how the others were terrified of me when I first made an appearance, even more so since they had heard rumors of my kind, of us with the Warrior Gene implanted into us. They thought I was a monster, a demon and dangerous as such. Still, with time, they accepted me, just like they seem to have accepted Raikov." Dan replied right off the bat. He had been sure Schaefer -or someone- would ask it sooner or later and thus he had prepared an answer for just such an occasion.
Schaefer nodded, shifting then one of his pawns so that it protected the pawn threatened by Dan's horse, the two of them slipping into deep silence for a while longer once more, the only sound in the room the occasional quiet thud of a wooden figure being paced onto another position on the checkered table.
The bass was thumping heavily in Jarhead's dancefloor, well over a hundred furs crammed onto the space lined and lighted dimly with flashing, multicoloured strobo-lights with a fast track of trance playing.
Rey let off of Vincent's paw and started to dance, moving with smoothness and fluidity which only an experienced dancer could achieve. The Husky nudged Vincent softly to urge the hyena, too, to dance "C'mon, just let yourself go and let the music dictate your movements."
Vincent hesitated, fearing he'd make a complete fool out of himself.
"He needs just some encouragement..." Jim shouted over the wild beat of the music before pressing up against Vincent from behind, the Dalmatian's arms sliding with flirtatious slowness around Vincent's waist and from there little by little onto his inner thighs. Jim placed his chin onto Vincent's shoulder and started to move both of them, rocking slowly at first but gradually fitting their motions into the music's rhythm.
A moment later Vincent let out a deep sigh, shook his head and flashed a grin to Rey, who nodded once more in encouragement, and then simply let himself go. Jim and Rey were there and that gave the hyena a little bit more confidence, enabling him to just go with the flow. In just a moment Vincent was dancing and shaking his tail just like everyone else around him with Rey firmly behind him.
Jim had left Vincent and Rey a few short moments before, having spotted a pair of familiar perked ears and stubby tail among the crowd. He playfully swatted the rump clad in black denim, making the Doberman turn around with a puzzled expression that soon melted into a big smile.
"Hi Sam. Enjoying the party, huh?" Jim said merrily, wagging his tail like the ever-cheery canine he was.
"You bet! How's Raikov doing? I saw you dancing with him just a moment ago." Sam said, running a paw through his headfur before slipping behind Jim and wrapping the smaller canine into his arms.
Jim giggled softly, bending from the waist just enough to press his rump fimrly into Sam's crotch "Raikov is doing fine. I left him with Rey, so he'll be in more than just good hands."
Sam raised an eyebrow "Slap-patch, eh? Not bad at all. Rey's one of the best-looking of us and one helluva lay to boot with."
"Oh I know..." Jim replied whilst slowly rocking himself, grinding smoothly against Sam "More or less regular prostate exams with him should be mandatory for us all."
"Agreed..." Sam murmurred into Jim's ear, planting then a kiss onto the Dalmatian's neck, making him shiver lightly in his arms.
In space, Schaefer and Dan had just finished their game which, surprisingly, had ended fairly shortly in Schaefer's favor. The German Shepherd had held onto his promise to not let the massive sergeant win this time around.
Dan was just leaving the room when he remembered what he had been meaning to ask for a while now "Colonel? What about Ghost? Did he go planetside?"
"As far as I know, he's even now in his private quarters, doing whatever stuff he does when not lurking around and doing the Shade-stuff. I assume this means you know Ghost will be staying with us for an indefinite period of time?"
"Yes, Sir, I know. Will he still be getting his orders from the SpecOps?"
"No. The SpecOps and HiCom both agreed that, in order to make things easier, Ghost should be put under my direct command, acting as a specialist for the Twelfth Marine Company. In short... The Hounds just got a pet Shade, though I fully intend to give him as much autonomy as I can."
Dan tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes slightly "Why is that, Sir?"
Schaefer clasped his hands together behind his back, turning then to look out of the porthole at the planet Alacast Prime "Because I know a few things about the Shades and based on that information I know they work far better on their own than if they were taking all orders from someone."
"I see... Thank you for the insight, Sir." Dan said, satisfied with the answer he had been given.
"My pleasure, sergeant. Thank you for a pleasant conversation and the round of chess. I suppose you will be heading to the gym now, right?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Fletcher should be there. Tell him I'd like to know if he wanted to share a drink with me, and that he should personally come here to give the answer. I'm fairly sure he won't mind."
"Yes, Sir." Dan replied and then swept out of the room. The Colonel wanted a drink with Fletcher? That could only mean one thing...
On his way to the gym Dan ran into Jericho. The two wolves stopped to regard each other. Jericho opened his muzzle to ask Dan to move out of the way, but the sentence came out in a muffled grunt as Dan grabbed Jericho by the neck and slammed him against the metallic wall,
"What the fuck are you doing? Let off of me!" Jericho snarled, trying to wriggle free of the sergeant's iron grip. Dan wasn't strangling him, but rather holding him quite firmly in place.
"Shut the FUCK up, Jericho, and listen. I've been waiting for a while now to get a chance to have a private chat with you, and now that the others aren't here I can finally have it."
"What the...?"
"Shut UP!" Dan's shout, followed by the sight of a gleaming array of fangs that could easily rend him apart made Jericho whimper and quiver "I can't have helped but notice you don't like Raikov too much... I can't prove it was you, but I have a feeling you were the one responsible of raping and beating the hyena up some time ago. Now... I'm telling you this only once: let Raikov be or you will have to answer to ME about it..."
Jericho's temper soared sky-high in an instant "To hell with you... Our big bad sergeant has fallen for a helpless little hyena? When's the wedding going to be? Worthless, freaky shit-for-brains musclebag..."
A loud snarl ripped out from Dan's throat, a red haze starting to descend upon his vision, the Rage threatening to drown him over. He squeezed Jericho's neck harder, making the smaller wolf gurgle as air was slowly squeezed out of him.
"Go ahead...Kill me if you dare. I'll be laughing in hell as Schaefer skins you alive." Jericho gurgled.
Dan grunted, forcing the red haze away and dropping Jericho onto the floor, the smaller canine sliding into a sitting position, tenderly nursing his aching neck.
"You ain't worth the effort, Jericho...You're nothing but scum, and I'll be rejoicing on the day a bullet finally finds your idiotic head." Dan said quietly, turning then around to walk away.
"Wussy..." Jericho mumbled and, much to his horror, saw Dan spinning around on his heels and driving a fist towards his face. Jericho almost wet himself as Dan's fist slammed into the wall a scant inch away from his head. In silence Dan straightened himself, turned around and walked away, leaving Jericho sitting shivering and terrified on the floor.
Jericho stared at the place where Dan's fist had collided, watching at the bent section of the wall with clear dents for knuckles. Three inches of grade-A steel had buckled under the force of the impact and Jericho knew, that if the punch had hit there would be nothing but a wet stain left on the wall of his head...
With a click the toilet stall's door locked, the small space feeling even smaller with two furs occupying the space meant for one. The crampedness didn't feel negative to the two, but rather it made the atmosphere even more intimate as the hyena and the Husky locked themselves into a deep, passionate kiss, trailing their paws over each others' bodies as they did so.
Rey had had the initiative for the whole night so far and hitting the toilets for some Hound-style stress relief was no exception, the Husky having made the suggestion after almost twenty minutes of non-stop dancing. Slightly surprised about the decision himself, Vincent had agreed without hesitation. How could he deny anyone as handsome and fun as the blue-eyed Husky?
Vincent murred softly as Rey pushed him slowly against the stall's wall, the dog's paws exploring Vincent's denim-clad rump without shame or second thought, and Vincent enjoyed it, repaying the favor by wrapping one arm around Rey's waist and rubbing the dog's crotch with the other. Vincent wasn't disappointed in his efforts as he could clearly feel a rising bulge in Rey's pants, matched by the one in his own jeans.
Through speakers the music playing in the main area of the bar could be heard even in the toilets, a fact of which Vincent was thankful since it hid the small sounds coming from him and Rey making up in the stall.
With gusto Rey proceeded to unbuckle Vincent's belt, the sound of leather slowly scaffing against the metal of the buckle drifting into Vincent's ears, the sound followed by the sensation of freedom as his belt was opened and the pants ceased constricting his waist. Meanwhile Vincent pulled down the zipper on Rey's jeans and slipped his paw inside, wriggling his way past the Husky's boxers to get into contact with the warm, soft furred sheath of Rey, the hyena's fingers sliding idly along it.
Rey managed to undo Vincent's pants with little effort, the jeans soon sliding partially down Vincent's legs, just enough to not be in the way, the hyena's boxers following suit. Rey broke away from the kiss they had enjoyed for quite a while and stared in the dim lighting at Vincent's crotch. A crotch he had wanted to touch already the first time he had seen it when he had changed Vincent's clothing when the hyena had been put into and taken out of the med-gel tank.
Gingerly Rey's paw wrapped around Vincent's sheath, the fold of fuzzed skin feeling warm and, already, quite full in his paw as he slowly stroked along it. Vincent's sheath felt different than those of the other Hounds, the hyena's fur being just a little bit rougher than that of an average canine; a nice change in Rey's opinion.
Vincent gasped softly in response to Rey's exploring paw, his own paws working in getting Rey's pants open. The task proved to be fairly easy due to the fact the Husky's jeans were so loose and baggy. The jeans practically slid down on their own accord after Vincent had dealt with the clasp going over the dog's tail and the studded belt adorning Rey's waist.
Before Vincent could do anything about Rey's underwear, the Husky suddenly knelt. It didn't take much of a guess on Vincent's part to figure out what Rey was going to do and, sure enough, the smooth, warm tongue of Rey was soon wrapping slowly around Vincent's hardening penis. Rey lapped slowly and with well-practised manner at Vincent's maleness, the Husky's tongue exploring every small bit of Vincent's emerging penis with nigh excruciating slowness.
As Vincent reached his full glory, Rey let out a soft murr and slipped the rigid penis into his muzzle, moving his head slowly back and forth and licking at the unerside of Vincent's cock slowly but surely, causing Vincent's knees to go weak and his eyes to almost roll over. Cute, fun, excellent kisser AND able to give good head. Vincent couldn't help but wonder what other pros the dog had, and if there were any cons to even things up. Such trivialities, however, were wiped away from Vincent's mind in one long lick which trailed across his glans in its entirety, forcing a long moan out of the hyena's muzzle.
Just how long, exactly, Rey carried on Vincent couldn't possibly guess. The warm, wet, slightly suckling muzzle wrapped around his entire maleness from glans to hilt felt so good Vincent lost track of time and, as Rey finally withdrew, licking his lips, Vincent willed down the urge to plead for the Husky to carry on.
With idle curiosity Vincent watched as Rey dug out a bottle of lubricant from one of the many pockets of his jeans, the lid opening with a sharp pop that was drowned by the techno blasting with full fury from the speakers. Smiling softly Rey spread a healthy dose of the lube onto his maleness, the tapered length of faintly pulsing canine maleness glistening in the lighting of the bathroom. Rey, obviously, wanted to be the dom and a split second before Rey's paws landed onto Vincent's hips to instruct the hyena to turn around, Vincent made the turn himself, presenting his spotted, round and pert behind to Rey, the Husky letting out an approving murr which Vincent could hear even over the thrum of music.
Gently Rey placed his paws onto the curve of Vincent's rump to spread the two fuzzy mounds apart, slowly pressing the tip of his lubricated penis against Vincent's tailhole, smearing some of the lube onto it as he did so.
Vincent closed his eyes, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. He rested his cheek against the stall's wall, feeling a knot tightening in his stomach as Rey prepared to make the penetration. Images and unwanted emotions surfaced all of a sudden, memories of a large cargo hold wherein a large group of canines had forcibly and repeatedly raped him surfaced.
"No!" Vincent shouted all of a sudden, turning around and pushing Rey slightly back, leaving the Husky looking puzzled and, perhaps, a little hurt at being rejected. Not daring to look Rey into the eyes Vincent averted his eyes as Rey tilted his head to the side, brow furrowed lightly as he inpected the hyena with his stunningly beautiful blue eyes.
"I'm...I'm sorry..." Vincent mumbled, starting to drag his pants up without looking at Rey still.
Rey took a step forward, placed one hand onto Vincent's to prevent the hyena from lifting his pants, his other paw pressing softly onto Vincent's chest. Confusedly Vincent looked up at Rey, who pressed a brief kiss onto Vincent's lips before licking once gently at the side of the fellow Marine's muzzle. Those electric-blue ees of Rey... They captivated Vincent.
"It's okay. It's okay, Vincent." Rey said just loud enough for Vincent to hear him "To be honest, I partially expected a reaction like this. It takes an immensly strong will to get through... something like what happened to you without any problems." Rey kissed Vincent again,glad to feel the hyena relaxing considerably "Going through a gang-rape like that... Poor thing, no wonder you've got traumas."
Vincent couldn't help but agree with Rey. Trauma? Well, that did explain the feeling of unease when he was about to be penetrated by Rey...
Rey winked softly at Vincent, a smile curling onto the Husky's lips as he turned around, planted his paws against the stall's wall, bent down and lifted his tail. Rey chuckled quietly before turning to look at Vincent over his shoulder "I guess you've already figured it out, but most of us Hounds like both receiving and giving and I'm no exception even though I usually end up topping most of the time."
Vincent outright gawped at Rey, his eyes fixed onto the perfect curve of the Husky's rump and the pink tailhole clearly visible between the two absolutely fantastic buns. Gingerly Vincent stepped forth and ran a paw from Rey's butt onto the Husky's back, lifting the dog's shirt to get a better look. The dark, almost pitch-black fur on the back only ever enhanced the natural beauty of Rey as it contrasted in such a nice way with the snow-white on his belly, inner thighs, underside of his tail and rump.
Rey ran a paw from the base of his shaft to the tip, gathering up most of the lube as he went. Slowly he extended a paw between his legs to run a couple of lube-slicked fingers over his tailhole, rubbing softly at his entrance to further tease Vincent who could only let out a muffled grunt in response to the sight.
"Go on ahead..." Rey mumbled softly, bending a little further over to press his rump against Vincent's crotch.
As if snapping out of a trance, having been mesmerized by Rey's good looks, Vincent flashed a smile and placed his paws onto Rey's hips. Guiding himself with one paw after he was satisfied with his positioning, Vincent started to push his hips forward, whilst Rey pushed his rump slowly backwards, parting open the Husky's lovehole little by little. Rey was definitely a tighter fit than Jim, though Vincent believed it was due to Rey liking giving more than receiving, whereas Jim just loved a good cock up his spotted rump. Regardless, Vincent found it relatively easy to push himself to the hilt inside Rey's passage.
Rey whimpered and even let loose a quiet moan in enjoyment as Vincent's rigid cock slid further and further into him, making him feel so full and the pressure applied to his prostate was just heavenly. It had been a while since he had gotten a prostate massage himself and that made it feel all the better. The Husky pressed his cheek firmly against the stall's wall as Vincent began to slide his penis back and forth in his lovehole, Vincent pressing his crotch firmly against Rey's rump every time he thrust in, Rey's body rocking back and forth in rhythm with Vincent's motions as the hyena gained more and more momentum.
Vincent thrust himself firmly time and again into Rey's tailhole, the Husky's tight passage offering no resistance at all as Vincent passionately mated with the handsome medic dog. All of a sudden Rey straightened his back and slipped Vincent's slick and rigid maleness out of him. To Vincent's quizzical and amused look he simply replied with a smile, a shrug and a quiet "I wanna see your face."
With a nod Vincent took hold of Rey's butt and lifted him up as Rey draped his arms around Vincent's neck and his legs around the hyena's waist, having easily stepped out of the loose jeans which lay in a pile on the floor. Easily Vincent slid himself back into the warm tailhole of Rey, propping the Husky's back against the stall before continuing to work his hips back and forth, feeling how more and more of his precum -in conjunction with Rey's own fluids- lubed the Husky up nicely to make his work even easier.
Rey whimpered in delight as Vincent buried his nose into the dog's neckfur, inhaling Rey's natural scent which combined with his cologne made for quite the pleasant combination. Rey allowed himself to sink into his lusty enjoyment, not caring about the fact his back was quietly banging against the stall as Vincent bred him with gusto and lust. Rey dared to take one arm off of Vincent's neck to grasp the hyena by the chin and kiss him, meshign their muzzles together to further enhance the sensation brought by Vincent thrusting firm and deep into Rey, the hyena's paws massaging Rey's butt all the while.
As he felt himself nearing his limits, Vincent slowed down, craving to prolong the feeling of utter enjoyment even if it was to be just a few more seconds. Still, try as he might, there was no stopping the inevitable. Vincent was forced to break the kiss Rey had engaged him into to moan out so loud Rey had no problem hearing it just as he unloaded the contents of his sac deep into Rey's tailhole.
Eventually as Vincent's orgasm died down, Rey pecked a kiss onto Vincent's cheek before sliding off of the hyena's grasp. Sighing deep in content he lifted up the lid of the toilet and started to paw off with his eyes closed, focusing on what it had felt like when Vincent had been domming him. A soft murr of pleased surprise left Rey's lips as Vincent pressed against his back and wrapped a paw around his rigid maleness, the dog's knot already fully formed, indicating he was near his edge. The hyena's still partially rigid sheath pressing between his buttocks was also an added bonus as Vincent started to slowly paw Rey off, allowing the Husky to press yet another lingering kiss onto Vincent's lips which held even as Rey felt himself reaching his limits. Vincent made sure to bend Rey over a little to better aim the Husky's admittedly impressive payload into the toilet, saving from them the trouble of wiping the stall clean afterwards.
A moment later Rey was wiping himself clean whilst Vincent leaned his back against the stall's door, arms slung across the toned chest. Vincent simply smiled in silence as Rey freshened up and got dressed again, a big smile on the Husky's face, too.
"Shall we go back? The night is still young and we have a lot of dancing and drinking still to do." Vincent asked as Rey finished buckling up his belt.
Rey smiled and nodded, saying "Sure thing." before following Vincent out of the stall. Needless to say the glances they got from the other marines in the room were hostile to say the least, but Rey shrugged them all off with a big grin.
In the main areas of the nightclub the mood was sky-high and the dancefloor was as packed with furs as it had been when Rey and Vincet had snuck off on their little trip to the toilets. One song was ending and a new one beginning just as Vincent -in tow of Rey- arrived onto the edge of the dancefloor. Rey's head tilted lightly to the side as he listened to the starting notes of the song, a grin splitting his muzzle as he apparently recognized the song.
"C'mon, this song is like made for us Hounds." Rey said, dragging then Vincent through the press of bodies to find the other Hounds already forming a tight circle with arms on each others' shoulders, the ring parting to allow Vincent and Rey to join in.
Vincent looked around in puzzlement as the lyrics blasted out of the speakers, the Hounds noding their heads in tune to the music until th chorus came. That was when the Hounds started to sing.
"Almighty and everlasting love, came down among us to make heaven on earth!" The Hounds repeated in unison time and again. Vincent could feel it as clear as the arms of Rey and Jake -the fox better known as Chibi- on his shoulders, the feeling of brotherhood, unity and, indeed, love. The sensation was so strong that in no time at all Vincent found himself singing right along with the others, his heart swelling with pride for being one of the group, one of what felt like a family.
In no time at all the song came to an end and the Hounds broke up into small groups once more, or at least they would have if it hadn't been for one rather angry badger that came to shove the cig-loving wolf John with both arms so hard the black wolf staggered backwards, causing everyone to stop dancing and focus onto the transpiring events.
"I've just about had enough of you fucking tailraisers. Get the fuck out of our nightclub! You make us feel sick, forcing us to watch you, grown males, groping each other publicly...It's disgusting, you hear?" The badger fairly shouted.
John looked around slowly, only the wolf's eyes moving as he took in the surroundings, seeing the mass of hostile -or at the very least annoyed- marines with the occasional civilian females around them. Then, as calmly as he could, he replied "Go fuck your mother. We've got a right to be here just as much as you do..." There were over a hundred against their meager thirty-something, good odds in his books, so almost as an afterthought John added "You ugly bastard son of a human."
The last sentence had th effect John had thought it would. The badger snarled in fury, his arm swinging back and forth like a maul as he tried to punch John to the face. John, however, weaved to the side and smashed a thundering counter to the badger's midriff, knocking the wind out of him, before connecting with a spinning kick that sent the unconscious badger hurtling into the press of furs beyond. That was the cue for all hell to break loose, the other marines, seeing their spokesman falling, letting out a cry of frustration before launching themselves onto the Hounds in a tidalwave pure hatred. The Hounds, on the other paw, responded to the assault in a way that puzzled some quite a bit: they charged right back, engaging the assailants despite their overwhelming numbers without fear.
Vincent stared, dumbstruck, at the swirling fistfight unfolding in front of him, unable to believe something so trivial as open display of sexual preference had ended up in this little conflict. The Hyena's pnderings came to an abrupt end as someone swung a barstool at him and Vincent was forced to duck and roll -just like he hadbeen taught in the hand-to-hand combat training in Boot- to avoid being knocked around the head. His roll carried him onto his feet right behind the assailant, a kangaroo. Vincen took a step back and slammed his elbow to the roo's kidney, dropping him onto his knees. A roundhouse kick to the temple knocked the stool-swinger roo out cold.
All around the Hounds were fighting in what was turning into a full-scale mini riot and, as astonishing as it was, they were faring pretty well for the time being, Schaefer's rigorous training paying off. Still, Vincent found himself wishing Dan would be there with them. The massive wolf would've been most useful in such a situation where brute physical force accounted almost as much as skill and finesse did.
Suddenly, accompanied by the sound of shattering glass, Vincent's world was set aflame with pain as someone broke a bottle against the back of his head, his knees giving in under him. He knew the attacker wouldn't leave it at that, that there would without a doubt be at least one or two good kicks following the shattered bottle. However, such kicks never came and the press of bodies seemed to ease around him for some reason.
As Vincent's head ceased to spin so badly, his eyes focused on four rather familiar figures standing in a protective ring around him: Sam, the Collie sergeant Frost, John and the dingo-sniper Jerry "Deadeye" White.
Sam snapped an uppercut to the jaw of someone coming too close before turning his head lightly to address Vincent "Make no mistake, Raikov. You are an asshole, but the Hounds have to stick together if we want to come out on the top. Pun very much intended."
"Now get up, soldier. Battles can't be won by lying around taking a nap." Jerry said, offering Vincent a paw to which Vincent gladly hung onto, allowing Jerry to help him up.
"You guys..." Vincet chuckled as he was brought back onto his feet, a grin forming onto his muzzle despite his best efforts to hide it.
Vincent's grin, however, turned into a visage of utter horror as the mass of angered mrines lurched forward once more and from amidst the attackers jumped a cougar with a knife in his paw, the knife held blade down and the feline's arm high above his head, ready and about to stab Jerry to the back.
Before Vincent's body had started to react, though, a new player entered the fray from somewhere amidst the attackers, snatching the cougar's knife-paw by the wrist and twisting sharply, the sound of breaking bones sharp over the din of shouting and fighting.
The newcomer was a mouse with a snow-white fur and a geled black hair, clad into white denim from head to toe and, to the surprise of probably everyone around, a blood-red sash around the waist and a matching scarf tied into a headband; the markings of a mercenary in service of the Federation!
The mouse, with the cold brutality of his kind, kicked the side of the cougar's knee, once more the sound of bones snapping sharp in the air. It didn't take two moments for the Hounds to figure out the merc was an ally and for the other marines to figure out he was in league with the Hounds.
The Hounds were good, schooled by Schaefer himself, but the mercenary mouse was way out of even their league. A kick behind - that knocked the wind out of one assailant- was turned into a frontal kick that knocked the teeth out of another marine, the mouse catching a punch aimed at him by the wrist and twisting the arm, locking the attacker's elbow, before ramming his palm to the locked joint and being rewarded with the sound of shattering bones once more.
Inspired by the mercenary that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere to their aid, the Hounds' spirits rose even further.
As there was a brief pause in the fight, due to the attackers reorganizing themselves, John managed to wade his way to the mouse, whose white denim jacket was already stained with several nasty spatters of others' blood.
"Hey you, merc!" John shouted and the mercenary turned his head slightly to show he was listening "Thanks for the assistance, but who the hell are you and why the hell are you helping us?"
A shadow of a grin that quite didn't reach his eyes appeared onto the mouse's face as he replied "I thought you lot could use an extra pair of hands in this lovely little social gathering. Call me a goody-two-shoes if you want, but I watched this thing unfolding and I dare to say you lot aren't to blame."
John didn't get the time to reply as the angry, battered and beaten non-Hound marines threw themselves at them once more.
A fight of that magnitude din't go unnoticed by the ones enforcing the law, though, as a moment later the sound of shattering windows illed the chaotic room as teargas grenades were being lobbed in by military police in riot-control duty, the heavily armored baton-wielders storming in soon after, their faces hid behind rebreather masks.
The riot fell apart as everyone made a break for it to get out of the gas.
Vincent knew he'd have to work fast as the gas started to snake closer to him, many of his fellow Hounds already coughing and gasping on the floor. He dug into one of the pockets of his jeans and took out his trusty goggles (these days he never went anywhere without them), taking also a strip of someone's torn T-shirt to cover his snout.
With his meager protection on, Vincent hurled himself into the fray once more, though this time his targets were the military police. Of the mercenary there was no sign, but then again the whole place was starting to fill up with the thick white mists of the tear gas anyways.
Vincent saw Jim being dragged down by one of the masked riot-controllers, so Vincent summarily ran up to them from behind and snatched the mask off of the fellow hyena, slamming the mask into Jim's paws before helping the Dalmatian up. Everythin was going down the gutter, but Vincent would do his darnest to ensure no Hounds would be dragged out in chains and shackles.
Aided by Jim he launched himself once more into the thick of it all, snatching masks left and right and getting some stisfaction from the surprised looks on the miltary polices' faces as they were denied of their supply of fresh air, falling victim to their own weapon.
The rag wasn't as efficient as a real rebreather mask, so Vincent had been quick to switch one on as soon as he could. The Hounds were breaking through the upstairs, aiming for the rooftop for their grand escape.
"Go, go, go!" Vincent ushered the others on, shoving them through the door leading to the stairwell. Smokey, Sam and Rose had all acquired batons for themselves and were beating back the military police with brutal efficiency.
Vincent saw Rose ducking below a horizontal baton-swing, spinning around and slamming his baton to the riot-controller's shin, knocking the wolf off of balance and finishing off by slamming the baton over his shoulder and into the military police's padded midriff with still enough fore t knock the air out of him.
"Guys! Lets get the hell out of here! Live to fight another day!" Vincent shouted and the three rearguards tossed away their batons before turning around and breaking into a run, dashing into the sairwell with Vincent on their heels.
Schaefer was feeling most content, lying on the bed in his personal quarters. The reason for his contentment was snoring quietly, spooning with him: lieutenant Fletcher. No matter how tough a man Schaefer was, he was still just that, a man, and he had all the urges of a man. Mingling too much with his underlings would surely have eaten away at his authority, but luckily there was Brad... Though Schaefer did occasionaly fool around with some of the boys, because he knew they liked it.
The angry din of intercom caused Fletcher to shift in his sleep and Schaefer found it hard to reach at the answering button a he was still rather firmly tied with his second-in-command. Wih some stretching, however, he mnaged to press the button to stop the annoying chiming and the voice of Captain Derringer coming from the speaker.
"Colonel? I'm sorry to disturb you, but I must demand your presence on the bridge as soon as possible if not sooner."
Schaefer grumbled silently, rubbing his face furiously for a short moment to get the drowsiness away before he could reply "What is it?"
There was a brief pause "Trouble planetside. I'm reading furious activity on law-enforcement channels and, according to flood of communications going on, there's a riot going on around the area where your marines were left."
"And why do you think the Hounds have anything to do with that?"
Again there was a pause, though Schaefer was fairly sure it was because Derringer had to suppress a smile "Because they are your men, Colonel."
Schaefer made an attempt to disengage from Fletcher, but found the attempt to be fruitless aside from Fletcher waking up.
"What is it, Edward?" Fletcher mumbled. Only when sharing a bed with the Colonel did Fletcher refer to the German Shepherd by his first name.
"Trouble planetside. Looks like the boys managed to cause a riot...again." Schaefer replied with very mild sourness in his voice. To Captain Derringer he said "I'll be there in ten...Make it fifteen minutes. Schaefer out."
"Understood, Colonel. Take your time. Derringer out."
On the roof of the nightclub Jarhead, the Hounds were rapidly makig the jump from the nightclub to the next building, jumping the gap in small groups to avoid detection. Vincent was just about to jump, having stayed to be the last, as the door to the roof burst open and the ilitary police flooded the rooftop. Vincent flashed them a grin and sprinted towards the edge, smiling as he saw the others ushering him on.
The edge came and Vincent jumped, sailing through the air wild and free. His flight, however, was cut off abruptly as something yanked at his ankle and he fell down, his stomach lurching as he started to descend towards the hard ground below. Another yank to his ankle halted his fall short and he could feel himself being pulled back up. A quick glance at his ankle confirmed his suspicion: a thin fibre-cable hd tangled around his ankle and as he was pulled over the edge of the roof he saw a burly fox military police sergeant brandishing a whip which he had used to catch Vincent.
A short struggle ensued, which ended the only way such an uneven fight possibly could: Vincent was handcuffed on the ground, the wind knocked out of him with a couple of baton strikes which, to Vincent, seemed to be delivered simply due to sheer vengefulness.
Last glimpse Vincent got of his fellow marines was the sight of the black wolf John looking at Vincent with a face which clearly told "We'll get you out. We won't abandon you." before the wolf, too, sprinted away. Vincent, despite the aching of his body, smiled.
Fiteen minutes later The Saint's Rapier fired its engines and soared to the sky. Most of the Hounds were packed at portholes, looking at the rapidly shrinking buildings below.
Jim pressed his paw against the glass, a frown on the Dalmatian's face.
"We'll get him out. Schaefer will see to that, I know it. He'll pull some strings if he has to, but he'll get Raikov out." John said in his usual sandpaper-rough voice, clapping a paw onto Jim's shoulder.
Planetside, Vincent was being stuffed into the back of a van to be trasported for interrogation. He didn't quite understand why the military police had been casting glances at him and grinning whilst mentioning a single name: Balthazar Voldok.
Long overdue, but finally here! I do apologize for any typos, but my spellchecker isn't working at all. Was it worth the wait? Let me know through commentary and votes, people!
Also stay tuned for the next exciting episode of The Raging Hounds as everyone's favorite Federate Marines return. "Disciplinary Action" is due to be aired in a couple of weeks!