FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

WARNING #1 - Sex and swearing are in this story, along with a great deal of military humor. If you were ever in the service, you should laugh a little harder than the rest. You should also be able to figure out that I was not an officer. If you did not serve ... well ... it's still a good read.

WARNING #2 - I count 99 separate uses of the word FUCK in this story and then there's this one in this introduction. That's 100! You've been warned.

NOTE #1 - Some of the characters in this story are based off of real people. I changed their names to protect their privacy.

NOTE #2 - If you are offended by this story then you should probably avoid military service.

NOTE #3 - Yes, I am a veteran. If you are serving or have ever served, I salute you!

Staff Sergeant Kassandra Sanders - Personal Log - 27 July 2754, 0203 Hrs

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??? Scraping fucktards did it again! No shit! here I am on the Rog-Koth run with the latest spike head. This one's nicer than the others but dumber than the last three put together. Don't think I've ever seen this much dumb squished into one head before. I thought college was supposed to make them smart. I mean fuck! How's it work? How do these scatterbrained knuckleheads get here? Did she suck and fuck her way to the top?

End Personal Log - 27 July 2754, 0208 Hrs

Sergeant Sanders punched the button that ended the log entry three or four times before raising the data-pad above her head and throwing it across the room. It made a handful of satisfying sounds as it hit the infra-scanner, ricocheted into the wall, and then hit the floor with a rubbery thump. The extra heavy-duty model had been specially issued, due to her "personality disorder," and it chirped happily from where it settled. Though this model made better noises when the sergeant threw it, she was always a little annoyed that she could never seem to break the damn thing. At least she didn't have to fill out the forms to order up another. She screamed, punched her chair, kicked a thin tin panel, which made a satisfying -KLANG-, and then finally finished with a howl that expelled the rest of the rage from her body.

Several deep breaths finished her meditation so she pulled her uniform back into place and depressed the "tantrum" button. It was a little something she had jury rigged when a VIP walked in on her masturbating. The button locked the cockpit door, set the auto-pilot, killed all of the speakers and recorders in the room, activated the blast doors, and rendered all of the navigational and intercom controls inoperative. This allowed for total and complete privacy when she needed to relieve steam in a way that could endanger her career. She always tested the system once before leaving space dock and once after. It was a mandatory feature on any ship she was in charge of.

This trip had been especially stressful due to the latest VIP. Lieutenant Masters was fresh out of North Point and believed she knew everything. She was granted permission to go and see the Ruck Hounds alone due to her impressive talent at being disarmingly naive. Few knew if it was all an act or not, but she had gotten this assignment due to her impressive diplomatic record.

No one know how she did it ... but when the Slarian diplomat (her old boss) had pissed off the Gren-Ha'dar (one of the more aggressive warrior races in the quadrant) with a nasty breech of cultural manners, she managed to save the diplomat's life. Entering into private negotiations with the Gren-Ha'dar's war chief, she emerged hours later with a broken arm and a signed cease fire. No one asked ... and she didn't tell.

Now she was here, in Sergeant Sanders' VIP lounge, on her way to negotiate a hostage release with a group of Ruck Hound Marauders. The sergeant wanted to believe Earth Force had chosen her for her ability to keep damaged ships in the air or her impressive kill record, but she knew better. The sergeant had called Lieutenant Anderson a "dirty fucker" when they had both only been in the service for a year. Then, eight years later, he was a Colonel and they were stationed together.

He remembered her ... so, here she was. Her leave was denied and she was sent on a mission that could easily end in a gun battle, sword play, hand-to-hand combat, rape, and eventually death ... in that order.

"Staff Sergeant Sanders," the intercom chimed pleasantly, "please report to the VIP lounge."

"Fucking ... god-damn, mother ..." The sergeant paused, pressed the "talk" button, and spoke in a professional tone of voice. "On my way." She double checked the auto-pilot, touched up her uniform in the reflection of the infra-scanner's view screen, and then opened the door leading to the rest of the ship. Military discipline pulled in around her as she marched down the hall. When she reached the VIP lounge her demeanor had completely changed. She was a soldier; professional, unshakable, ready to follow orders no matter how absurd.

"Oh hai," the lieutenant said as her subordinate entered the lounge. The officer was bent over a table gluing stars, normally reserved for a General, to an Earth Force flag. Her uniform jacket was hung up, and perfectly pressed, and she was wearing pigtails. She pointed at a data-pad and sighed.

"It says here the J'shhlar-thuupoth admire strength and prowess, so they rarely use flags. Instead they use wood and metal scepters to represent their factions. We need to use a flag but if we can make it shinier then maybe we can gain some respect!"

The sergeant controlled her desire to beat a person who was insulting the flag and Earth Force by pretending she was bringing a prisoner her last meal before throwing her out an airlock.

"Do you require my assistance, ma'am?"

"Yeah," the lieutenant said as she dripped more bonding agent onto the flag, "I need something sharp to use as a spear head. It says here their symbols also double as weapons. Instead of blunt force trauma I plan to use lacerations."

Idiot savant, Sanders thought. "I can get you a bayonet from the armory if you think that will work, ma'am," Sanders said levelly.

"Oh, good idea!" The lieutenant bounced and finally looked up with her baby blue eyes. Eyes that had never seen combat. Eyes that had never seen death. "Can you please get me a fragmentation grenade? I need the powder."

"Yes, ma'am." Holy fuck a grenade! "What shall I put on the arms roster as the reason?"

"Perfume."

OH MY FUCKING GOD I WANT TO BEAT HER WITH MY FISTS UNTIL HER SKULL CAVES IN!

"It says here the J'shhlar-thuupoth, especially the Rog-Koth ..."

How in the fuck does she pronounce those words?

"... like the scent of weapons and battle. Before we land I plan to work out and then mix some powder into my sweat. They should like my scent and respect me more."

Sounds like they'll want to fuck her to death too. Sergeant Sanders thought. "Sounds like a great idea, ma'am," Sanders said. "Are you sure one will be enough?"

"Hmmm ..." the lieutenant batted at her blond pigtail like a teenager putting together a collage for class. "You're right. Better make it two."

*****

Staff Sergeant Kassandra Sanders - Personal Log - 28 July 2754, 1227 Hrs

FUCK!

I'm tired from last night. Fortunately the LT gave me permission to bunk down at 0400 and I got SOME shut-eye but I'm not at full burn. I don't sleep too good before a mission anyway. Now she's got my sleep cycle all fucked up and I'm gonna fight for sure! The idiot won't even let me take my grenades. At least she thinks armor will be a show of strength in our favor. It's weird. She'll let me bring the deck sweeper AND the GAT-disruptor AND my katana but I'm not allowed to bring grenades. Well, at least if I'm gonna die I can set the GAT to overload. That'll kill a bunch of the fuckers for sure!

End Personal Log - 28 July 2754, 1236 Hrs

Staff Sergeant Kassandra Sanders - Letter to Susan Sanders - 28 July 2754, 1236 Hrs

Hey Mom, I'm about to do something dangerous and stupid, but it wouldn't be the first time. If you get this then it might be the last. That or maybe I just didn't stop the sender in time so wait for official word before panicking. Anyway, remember when I was fifteen and into all that incense that kept bothering your allergies? Well, it was leaves. Yeah, I was lighting things on fire. But it never got out of control. Now I think things are about to get out of control. If they do, be sure to file the TX-6168 with Captain Roberts at C-827. He likes me and will be sure to get you my life insurance. Whatever you do NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER NEVERNEVER NEVER NEVERNEVER NEVER NEVER NEVER go to Colonel Anderson. He's not a very good person and he'll steer you wrong.

I love you Mom,

Kassa

End Letter to Mom - 28 July 2754, 1252 Hrs

Transmission to relay: Complete

Transmission to Linda Sanders: Start in 48 Hours

Staff Sergeant Kassandra Sanders - Personal Log - 28 July 2754, 1253 Hrs

Why the hell did I suddenly write home to Mom? Why the sudden need to confess about my firebug days? Would the Colonel really dick my Mom? I've been in dangerous situations like this before. It's so fucking weird. My mind's always somewhere else until I need it.

That damn fucking baby bitch probably knows why. Probably took a class in it. Fucked up behavior 101 or what to do when your dirty soldiers start to freak out. If I die on this mission that bitch better go with me. Otherwise I'm gonna follow her around and haunt her ass! Fuck, it's time.

End Personal Log - 28 July 2754, 1259 Hrs

-BEEP- 1300 Hrs

"Sergeant Sanders, are you ready to go?"

"Yes, ma'am. On my way."

*****

The airlock made a lot of noise as it prepared to open. The pressure doors hissed and a blast of dust covered the two occupants. Jenna breathed deep the non-filtered atmosphere and coughed. It was thick, rocky, and full of ash. Fires had been lit for a victory celebration and these positive emotions were what she was counting on. All she had to do was make everyone happy. If they were already happy then her job should be easy. Maybe even fun!

Sergeant Sanders stepped out first, with a rather large rifle in her hands and another strapped to her back alongside a fancy sword. The mechanical strength enhancers whirred as the six feet of combat armor crunched through the gravel and surveyed their surroundings. Jenna understood these weapons and armor made the sergeant feel better, but the real reason she let the woman take these with her was to impress the locals. They liked big weapons and armor, and these were some of the biggest ones around.

After some very paranoid observations, the sergeant gave the all clear. Jenna checked her flag and then then put on her soldier persona. She stood straighter and walked with a purpose into the open. With her bodyguard on her left, the lieutenant strode to where the fires were burning.

A great deal of effort had gone into her appearance but it made her sticky with sweat and itch from the gunpowder. Hair, skin, teeth, and uniform would only stay in their proper places for so long before the environment made her look tarnished. Though she smelled like a brute, she looked like an officer. This combination was what she knew the Rog-Koth would like. It was HIS attention that she needed to get. It was HIS opinion she would need to sway. It was HIS will she would need to bend.

"Three approaching our flank," the sergeant warned, "ten o'clock."

"How close?" Lieutenant Masters needed to know.

"Fifty meters, they're keeping their distance for now."

"Good," the lieutenant said with a nod, "keep an eye on them, but don't threaten them."

"Understood."

The sergeant is so controlled, Jenna thought to herself. I wish I could be that calm.

They continued up the path for a ways until they heard the revelers. They could see the fires, and soon they would see the war party which they were supposed to meet. The prisoners would likely be put on display with guards who were ordered to kill them should a fight break out. Masters focused, she had to keep her wits about her.

"Where are they, sergeant?"

"Behind us, twenty meters. I'll drop back to cover you."

"Thank you, sergeant."

"Don't thank me, ma'am. Thank my recruiter."

Lieutenant Masters smiled. She did not know why the sergeants always said that. Probably part of their training. What she wouldn't do for a bit of that rigid discipline right now. The lieutenant continued her journey to the camp where she caught her first real glimpse of them. Brown-green silhouettes on red earth. No ... not earth ... dirt, gravel, stone, but not earth. Earth is very far away. We're very far from home.

The singing and dancing stopped as several cries of alarm went up. Lieutenant Masters could see more detail as the J'shhlar-thuupoth grew closer. They were big, at least six-and-a-half feet tall. Muscles covered in scales, heads with horns, snouts filled with razor sharp teeth, all carrying spears, axes, and swords. They were terrifying. They were amazing. They are ... beautiful.

Jenna focused again on her military baring, and Lieutenant Masters continued forward. Holding the flag of her people high, with her modifications, she shouted the greeting she had been practicing for days. The war party stopped their charge at the sound of the greeting. They parted for their leader; their Rog-Koth.

He was slightly more green than the others, bigger, stronger, more scarred. He carried a large axe with jewels and runes carved into it. He would not be like the others. He could be reasoned with while the others could only obey their leader and fight to the death.

"Greetings, Rog-Koth, I am Jenna Masters, and I represent my people. I am here to gesch-toth."

As she finished saying this, a half-dozen J'shhlar-thuupoth leaped out of their hiding places and surrounded them. The sergeant shouted a warning, drew her other rifle, and held both of them at the ready. Her mechanical muscles strained at the heft of the two battle rifles and the J'shhlar-thuupoth hesitated.

"Hold Fire!" Lieutenant Masters ordered and the sergeant froze. Jenna was terrified. She did not know how much longer Lieutenant Masters could maintain control. She looked at Sergeant Sanders. Such calm ... such control ... Jenna thought to herself, if only I could be that fearless and collected, I know I could succeed here. That's what I need to do. I need to be like her.

*****

Sergeant Sanders calmly assessed the situation around here.

FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!

Sergeant Sanders activated her bio-sensor and took a head count. Two completely fucked humans, twenty of those fucking lizards within fifty feet, five more completely fucked humans in the camp, and another thirty-six fucking lizards a mile away and marching steadily toward us.

The LT was not going to let her pull the trigger. She was going to let them get killed. Sanders thought of her situation tactically. They were surrounded by violent primitives with pointy sticks and old blades. None of them had weapons that could hurt her, but the LT had no armor and would be torn to shreds if a fight broke out. The hostages would also be killed if a fight broke out. The primitives who were marching this way, however, had several technological energy signatures that suggested dangerous firearms. Every moment they stayed here was another moment the real danger to her life got closer.

Tactical possibilities:

1) She could shoot her way out now. The LT would most likely die. The hostages would definitely die. She, the sergeant, would be reprimanded for letting a VIP die and failing her mission, but commended for surviving in a dangerous situation. If Colonel Douche Bag got his way, she would be court marshaled and thrown into jail.

2) She could wait for the LT to be killed by the locals, THEN shoot her way out. The primitives with energy weapons made this a much more dangerous situation, but it was less likely she would be blamed for the death of the LT and the hostages. The colonel would still court martial her, but there would at least be a chance she would escape prison and maybe continue her career with only a slight reduction in rank.

3) She could shoot her way out of here, the LT could survive ... maybe even rescue the hostages without her. Though this was highly unlikely, she, the sergeant, would be royally fucked. Go directly to jail. Do not pass go. Do not finish your career. Do not collect retirement for 10 - 20 years of service. Do not collect G.I. benefits. Get fucked and live to regret it. Fucked, Fucked, Fucked, FUCKED!

4) She could trust the LT and probably die. Mom gets 500,000 credits in life insurance money and she, the sergeant, gets a cool funeral. Maybe ... just maybe, the LT succeeds, they all get out alive, and get serious bad-ass props, metals, and stories for the next unit function.

5) Something else could always happen. They could both just be fucked, but in a way she had not thought of yet.

Yeah ... that sounds most likely, she thought to herself. She thought through the options a few more times before resigning herself. Fuck it. I'll just choose option four and pray option five takes a holiday.

*****

The world held its breath. Jenna was amazed at how much of a strain it was to hold eye-contact with a seven foot tall reptile. She was also amazed that the sound of crackling torches, the breathing of twenty J'shhlar-thuupoth, and the beating of her own heart could be so loud.

The Rog-Koth had black eyes which seemed to stare into her core and undress her down to her bones. Jenna blushed, but Lieutenant Masters stared back. She would not blink. She would not look away. She would not show weakness.

"Cooommme," the Rog-Koth finally hissed, and his warriors parted for her.

"Go back to the ship," Lieutenant Masters ordered. "Twelve count delta."

"Understood," her loyal soldier stated as she returned one of the rifles to her back. The sergeant stepped toward the ship as the lieutenant stepped away. Jenna could feel the distance of her support. The rules and regulations meant very little out here. She was all alone with these creatures. Their rules were the ones that mattered. She would need to invent a way to deal with this creature, this ... man. Is he a man? He's male, and the files suggested primitive codes of honor and behavior, but is he a man?

Jenna followed the Rog-Koth's sweeping tail back to where the camp. The other J'shhlar-thuupoth went back to celebrating and they made no attempt to hide what they had done here. Five humans were tied to large spikes. They looked broken, defeated, and did not look up as she passed. Their wills have been beaten. I have to get them out.

When they reached the camp's center, another large group marched up. They were more heavily armed. They had more modern weapons and armor. A quick exchange of greetings and posturing said that the Rog-Koth of that unit was the father of the Rog-Koth of this one.

The son addressed his father in their native tongue. The lieutenant strained her ears and racked her brain to try and understand them. She recognized honorific titles, questions, answers, a derogatory slang for humans, and many many words she did not recognize.

"Huuumaaannn," the father finally addressed her.

"Jenna Masters," she told him boldly.

The father peeled his lips back revealing his teeth. The lieutenant did not cower and he laughed. "Massstersss, my ssson huntsss. Hisss winsss dessservvve thanksss. Giiive thanksss."

The lieutenant nodded. Jenna understood that to give thanks was their way of saying she needed to honor him. As a female, she there was only one real way for her to honor him. I think I'm going to need some help with this one, she thought as she followed the hunter to his tent. Some sleight-of-hand brought a small capsule out of her belt which she crushed in her fist. The drug oozed along her palm and soaked in through her pours in a few seconds. A pleasant tingling sensation began to travel through Jenna's bloodstream but she pushed it from her mind and focused on the situation around her.

Pushing the flap open, Jenna took in the shelter's construction. Skins of the hunter's prey, both sentient and non, covered the exterior and its frame was made of bones. There were skins, skulls, and trophies decorated the inside and all of it was warm and reeked of J'shhlar-thuupoth. The scent made her head swim and it was difficult to focus.

Upon reaching the center of the room, the Rog-Koth began taking off his armor and placing the pieces carefully over the skeleton of a conquered foe. The drug she had taken would need some time to properly work her up and she would need to stay focused until the last possible moment.

"I ... it is an honor to be in your private quarters, Rog-Koth," Lieutenant Masters struggled to say. She was not sure if she was supposed to talk, but she was finding it harder to focus as the reptilian humanoid shed his modesty. "Your hunting skill has brought you much glory. Was the hunt for the humans ... challenging?"

"Nooo ..." his voice seemed to echo a bit as he said this. He removed the last bits of his coverings and faced her. She could see all of him and was repulsed by both his forwardness and the way the drug caused her body reacted upon seeing him this way.

"The humans fell too easily?" she asked conversationally.

"Suuuurrrrr ... suuurrrr ..." the Rog-Koth struggled with a word.

"Surrendered?" Jenna asked as she took an involuntary step toward him.

"Yeesss ..."

"J'shhlar-thuupoth never surrender," she said as she stepped closer. "You always fight."

"Yeesss ..."

"You beat them because they gave up."

"Yeeessssss ..."

Something in the way the reptilian creature hissed tickled something in Jenna's mind and redirected her attention. The drug had traveled through her limbs and settled into her loins with an aching burn that made her sweat. Now she was able to notice how incredibly well muscled the battle master was. He looks hard all over. I wonder ... A bulge at the appropriate location drew her eyes and she wondered what it would take to coax him out. She wanted to slip out of her stuffy uniform and rub herself on him like a mammal in heat. She wanted drag her fingers down his scales ... to taste his hardness and be filled with his strength. If she could handle him then perhaps he would honor her with a gift.

Lieutenant Jenna Masters clenched her muscles and forced her breathing to slow. The pheromones were seducing her too quickly. If she gave in it would be like surrendering. There was no honor in surrender unless one's prowess was first shown. If she gave in, he would not honor her. Her negotiations would fail. She would never know what these beasts were really like. She would need to use force.

Steady Jenna, she told herself as she clenched her eyes shut to bring more blood into her face. All you need to do is speak his language. Bring the blood back to your brain and away from your glands. She opened her eyes and saw the flag in her right hand. She realized she had created a guidon, the flag of a military platoon. This one represented her entire race and she had almost set it down. What an insult! To let the flag touch the ground would have been bad enough, but to give up the symbol of my race willingly ...

Rage began to boil in her guts and she wrapped her training around it. The guidon returned to an upright position as she pulled her shoulders back and looked the Rog-Koth hard in the eyes. The battle leader started at the ferocity in the eyes of this little human. With a deep breath set her posture firmly where it needed to be. I am not a subordinate. I am an officer. I am in charge of these proceedings. I need to show him that.

The Rog-Koth took a step toward her with clenched fists and a set jaw. His muscles flexed, and his tail swished like an agitated feline. He stood up straighter, meeting the lieutenant's challenge. He closed to a few feet of her. His smell was unbearable. Her mouth salivated as she thought of sinking her teeth into him.

Are these my thoughts? she wondered as her body rallied against her will. Is this the real me? Is this the woman or the soldier? This is not like before. This is not like the Gren-Ha'dar. He was happy because I dueled him. When I lost ... he was so impressed he spared my life ... but this ...

Lieutenant Masters fought herself and breathed hard for control. Fight or flight raged in her breast and she began to tremble. Fight or flee ... attack or surrender ... run toward or away ... The Rog-Koth reached out his claw and took hold of her left arm. Instinct seized hold.

With a shout, Lieutenant Masters thrust the guidon forward into the scaly green chest. Red blood oozed from the wound and ran down the shaft. Reptilian eyes narrowed and a growl rumbled in his throat. He did not let go of her. He started to squeeze her arm. She twisted the blade in his wound and he growled louder. The pain in her arm grew and she began growl as well.

The Rog-Koth brought up his other arm and grabbed the guidon. Lieutenant Masters twisted out of his grip and spun the weapon away. With a flourish she spun it around and slashed the spear tip across the scaled muzzle. She then jumped back two hops and held the weapon at the ready.

Then something unexpected happened. A pink tip emerged from the reptilian bulge and Jenna found she could not look away. The scuffle had enflamed her blood even further and she breathed like a bull after a charge. Weakness caused her legs to wobble so she widened her stance to compensate.

The Rog-Koth widened his stance as well and he leaned forward, lowering his head. His muzzle opened, revealing rows of pointy teeth, and he roared in challenge. The sound vibrated through the human like a lover blowing on her sex. She curled her toes, drew in a deep breath, and roared back.

Swinging the guidon toward him, she overbalanced her steps. The Rog-Koth deflected what he could have caught and grabbed the fabric of her jacket. They were suddenly very close and the urge to bite him was stronger than ever. Slowly he flexed his muscles and the buttons of her dress uniform popped from the strain. In an odd move she brought up her free hand and clawed at his face. Startled, he let her go.

Jenna stumbled back and regained her composure. She then thrust the butt of the guidon in to the ground, took off her jacket, and tossed it over the back of a bone chair. She then picked up the weapon and faced him again.

"Leessssss ..." the monster growled and his pink tip poked a little farther out.

Jenna was starting to lose control of herself. She wanted to see more of that little creature. Maybe she could coax it out of him. Thrusting the guidon back into the ground, she unbuttoned her blouse, removed it, and put it over the jacket. She put one hand on the flag's shaft and faced him. Another ridge pushed forward, his beast-hood was rough and uneven ... she wanted to see more and so did he.

Without breaking eye-contact, Jenna slid her shoes off with her toes. She saw his eyes travel down her and then back up. He was liking what he saw and his obvious arousal proved it. It took some leaning on the guidon to remove her socks, but once she did she could feel the packed clay under her feet and the sand between her toes.

"What do you want?" she asked him aggressively, "do you want to see more?"

"Leeessssss ... morrreee ..."

"Less skin? More cloths?" She teased him by picking up her blouse and slipping it over her shoulders.

"Lessssss clothsss ... morrreee skiiinnn."

Jenna let the blouse drop to the ground and then traced her fingers over her belt buckle. "What honor is there in this?"

"Hooonooor," the battle master hissed, "choiccce."

"If I choose to honor you," she asked carefully, "will you honor me back?"

"Yeeesss," he hissed with an unmistakable hunger that made her tingle anew.

The buckle fought her first clumsy attempt to undo it until she forced herself to slow down and concentrate. When it finally came free she flicked her pants open and let them fall to the ground. Pulling the guidon out of the ground, she stepped forward, out of her pants, toward the warrior.

Several more ridges emerged from the pouch as it engorged with blood. It rose in rhythm with his heartbeat. Jenna circled in nothing but her panties and an undershirt. She wanted him but she could not yield, Not yet ... I need to be more dominant before I can move in for the kill.

Slowly, deliberately, Jenna moved the guidon forward to his throat. "Kneel," she ordered and he grinned. Dropping down to one knee, he leaned back, thrusting the ridged erection at her. Jenna licked her lips and poked his skin with the spear-tip, "On your back!"

A quarter-ton of reptilian warrior rolled onto his and she stood over him. Putting one foot on his leg, she traced his scales with her toes. He felt a little like a snake, both soft and hard. Warm and pulsing under a course exterior, every touch sending wondrous sensations through her.

The guidon stabbed into the ground with a satisfying finality and she stepped away from it. Dropping down to a crouch, she ran her hands along his thighs. He growled at her when she stopped and she smirked as she looked him in the eye. Without breaking eye-contact she slid forward and touched the bulge. Both hands fondled up the sides of the emerged shaft. Its uneven texture so alien from any she had ever known.

Leaning in she extended the tip of her tongue and indulged her curiosity with a flick. He tasted like snake meat and his pre-cum was like a smoky sauce. Nostrils flared as she drew so close and his pheromones filled her. Scent and taste merged, causing her mouth to salivate heavily.

A collection of exploratory licks were joined by her small strong hands which drew the type of groan she would have recognized from any male. Her lips finally wrapped around him and he reflexively thrust his hips up at her. The erection slid back into her throat and she pulled back, took a breath, and then plunged him past her gag reflex.

Like a boa she drew him deep into her throat, bobbed her head twice, and listened to his sounds. When she pulled back she sucked off the pre-cum and drew back to stare up at his hungry eyes. The taste was savory, like an alligator steak's special sauce from the Louisiana bayou, she wanted more. There was no mistaking the mutual need and she answered him with a sly little grin.

Jenna finally decided to study what she had been fondling and her eyes grew a little wide as she stared at the alien genitalia in wonder. The shaft had triangular ridges that were stacked like an evergreen tree. Below the shaft, just starting to peak out from the sheath, was another smaller penis. He has two!

Leaning down, she licked this smaller one. The Rog-Koth huffed and Jenna realized it was more sensitive than the other. With a mischievous smile, she sat upright and removed her undershirt. He watched her intently as she did this. This was a first for him too and he missed not one detail. She rubbed her hands over her bra a few times then dipped her head back down.

Jenna placed the larger shaft back into her mouth and went down a few ridges. She then put her hand over the smaller shaft and jacked him off. This smaller one was what made him jerk and twitch but she liked the way the larger one felt in her mouth. She sucked hard while keeping her hand lubricated with the pre-cum the dribbled steadily from the little wonder. When at last he began to twitch, she pulled back to the first ridge and was splashed on the chest. The ridged shaft oozed a slowly but the little one coated her breasts and stomach with squirt after squirt of hot, viscus, liquid.

When he started to settle she let the larger limb flop onto his chest and put the little squirt in her mouth. Its liquids were rich and thick. It was obvious that this smaller one was for insemination. The larger one must be to open up or hold the female in place. Maybe the female J'shhlar-thuupoth has two openings, one for grip and one for eggs. Jenna's scientific mind danced through the possibilities but then she realized she was covered in reptilian spunk and it was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her.

Small pink hands traced her curves. The fluid made her extra horny. Gliding her hands through the cream, she slid her fingers into her panties and over her own sex. The cream tingled and it made things much more sensitive. She played with her clit, ran a probing finger across her labia, and then reached inside of herself. Her own fluids had already been pretty stirred up by all of this and her nerves were screaming to be stimulated. She gasped, moaned, and quickly lost control.

The orgasm quickly rushed through her like a stampeding bull. Inner fluids burst forth in her hands and soaked her panties. That almost never happened, she thought as she sat there, stunned and panting. Looking up at the Rog-Koth, she realized he had enjoyed the show immensely. His eyes stared at her hungrily and his main shaft was still hard and ready.

Unable to get to her feet, Jenna crawled over to the great beast and climbed onto his chest. His powerful claws felt her soft body and tore the flimsy material that hid her from him. The panties and bra fell away revealing white flesh that glistened in the sweat of its wearer. Jenna rubbed herself up and down his rough scales and felt the odd angles. His claws dragged down her back and cupped her butt.

Jenna bit his chest as he brought his main shaft up into her. Ridges slid past her outer walls one after another, causing sensation to grow until she squeaked. One ... two ... three ... she bobbed up and down on the third one a few times. Four ... she groaned in pleasure and rocked herself slowly. Five ... a loud moan came out of her that was almost a scream. Six ...the final ridge slid in and spread her wide.

She could feel each movement as she ground her hips into him. She rubbed her bottom against his rough skin, dragging herself up and down his scaly chest. The slickness of his cum lubricated her body, preventing chaffing. Muscles tightened and another deluge released.

Jenna settled as fluids overflowed and ran down onto his other shaft. The smaller member slithered up the back of her and found an opening. Jenna was so turned on and lightheaded that all she could so was weakly moan.

One male ... double penetration ... the smaller of the two slid in her anus ... powerful claws held her bottom and moved her up and down. His tongue flicked out and wrapped around a nipple, causing it to harden. Cries of pleasure fell out of her causing her mouth to flop open and drool to drip onto his chest.

She could fight no longer. He could do to her as he pleased. As if sensing this, he pulled out and lifted her into the air. He then pushed her up against the far wall and plunged back into her body. The ridges clawed at her sex while the smaller one wiggled into her bottom. Carnivorous teeth pressed against her throat ... scraping her skin ... drawing blood. One claw stroked across her back as the other held her butt.

Sweat and blood ran in thin rivers down Jenna's body as they mated, rutting like animals, grunting and calling to each other in a frenzy. She felt his desire swelling within. Felt the rush that was about to fill her. Her own body wanted it ... needed it ... demanded it!

Suddenly he pulled out of her. Time seemed to slow as she wondered if she was to go unfulfilled. His smaller member then slithered up into her sex and released. The hot rush filled her body and burned her insides. A screaming orgasm gushed through her like a current. The black fingers of unconsciousness danced on the outside of her vision. Everything seemed to spin until he laid her down. The world seemed to fade into oblivion as shadows rose from the dust to devour her.

*****

Kassandra tapped the ship's throttle restlessly. Hurry up and wait, it was the military way. It was the hardest part of the job and, unfortunately, as a soldier she did it all the time. Staring out the forward window was pissing her off. She had decided to hate mountains and barren environments about six hours ago but now she was beginning to hate red, brown, and tan.

-BEEP- 0200 Hrs

The LT's got twenty minutes. Then I rocket out of here and start a letter to her family.

Twelve count delta meant, "Give me twelve-hours or until you are in danger, whichever comes first."

The short range bio-scanner was clear. The mid-range scanner told her the lizards were not moving. She had listened to music, eaten her protein, and even tried to write a few more entries into her personal log, but she could not stop watching the scanners.

She hated long shifts of guard duty without anything to pass the time. Many of the local reports were classified and there was no connection to the galactic net out here. Her music player had given up after she threw it across the room, an action she was regretting more and more. At last ... she was in the final stretch.

A single green dot moved away from the others and was traveling in her direction. She leaned forward and stared closely as if a closer look at the dot would mean something.

"One ... two ... three ... four ... five ... SIX!"

Grabbing the bio-scanner, the sergeant worked the buttons and locked on the targets.

-HUMAN-

She could not believe it. She thought for sure she would be going home alone. She ignored smart-ass thoughts of disappointment as she flipped a few switches, grabbed her rifle, and opened the outer door. Once the humans were inside, Sanders looked through a small window to verify their identity, and then opened the airlock door.

"P-perm-mi-s-s-sion t-to come a-aboard?" the LT barely managed to stutter out.

"Granted! Welcome aboard, ma'am!" Sergeant Sanders grinned at the prospect of being pleasantly incorrect. The hostages looked battered and the LT looked like her body had been used to mop a floor, but they were alive. After closing the inner and outer doors, Sanders leaned the rifle against the wall and helped her superior to the infirmary. After helping her onto the bed, the other humans where directed to places where they could collapse.

"How'd it all go, ma'am?" the sergeant asked as she strapped the lieutenant in and grabbed a medical scanner.

"Oh ... great," came the weak reply. "I ... I did it."

"I can see that," the sergeant could not stop grinning.

"All good," the LT said with a smile. "Can we go home now?"

"Yes, ma'am," the sergeant assured her. "Rest now and leave it all to me."

"C-carry on, sergeant," the lieutenant whispered. She then closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

The medical scanner allowed the sergeant to perform basic first aid on the newly released hostages and then she showed them to a collection of cots.

"Well, imagine that," Sergeant Sanders said to herself as she strapped herself back into her seat. "I think I owe that stubborn bitch a drink when we get back to base." A few switches completed the ignition sequence. Pushing the throttle slowly forward, Kassandra made a mental note to halt and rewrite that letter to her mother, as they headed for home.

THE END