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From: albrecht@alfaskop.net (Albrecht)
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Subject: Fur: The Village part 1 (MM/m, M/F, Rape) by Kashra
Date: Sun, 07 Dec 1997 18:34:19 GMT
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A new yiffy story from Furry Pleasures:
http://www.alfaskop.net/~albrecht


The Village part I
by Kashra

**WARNING: This story contains scenes of EXTREME VIOLENCE and TORTURE
that may not be suitable for even the most stable of minds. You have
been warned. Although my stories can normally be twisted, this is
ESPECIALLY so! Just in case you haven't noticed, my depiction of war
is far from romantic. Still, I think this is one of my most emotional
works yet.**

     They had been trekking for days, through the high underbrush of
the jungle. The humidity was intense, and droplets of sweat clung
heavily to their black fur. Most wore their traditional dark-green
pants, with chests bare in the incredible heat. Loose bandannas held
the sweat out of their eyes as they marched along.
     "All halt!" the command came from the front of the line. The
twenty men came to a stop, ears pricked in attention; all conversation
stopped immediately as they awaited another command. An observer would
indeed be astonished at the manner with which these men conducted
themselves. They were part of the Shepherd Army, known for its
formidably large forces and unmatched in discipline.
     "Attention!" the dog-morph at the front commanded, and as if they
were at ease before, the men raised their hands to their heads in a
salute, while readying their guns with their other hand in one swift
motion, so that within a second everyone was at 'attention.'
     Some low-toned conversing went on between the leader and the dog
behind him, presumably the second in command. They seemed to oppose
each other's actions, but none of the men standing behind them even
moved an ear to hear what they were saying. Finally, the leader barked
back to the rest of them, "Allright, break formation!"
     Glad sighs came from the others, showing some sign that they were

indeed alive and not statues. Hands dropped and guns were let hang on
their straps. "Don't get too excited, men! We're off in an hour
again!" The leader reminded. Most of them took seats on nearby rocks,
looking through their packs for a snack. Some, as can be expected
after a long hike, went into the woods to take care of business.
     Herl breathed heavily as he sat on a cool boulder. He took a
small towel out of his pack and started to wipe off the sweat from the
back of his neck. Serg sat next to him, and took a drink from his
canteen. "This is fucking amazing!" Herl said, liking the feeling of
the cloth dragging across his fur. His arm ached even to move the
towel.
     "Yeah. I hope I can make it. I heard we've already lost two to
the heat! Can you believe they just leave them to die?" Serg said,
between long gulps of the lukewarm water. "How are you holding up?"
     "I think I'll live through today. Celik of there says we might
come to a village today." Herl said, looking a little less exhausted,
"I sure as hell hope so." After a short pause where he looked at his
friends composure, "Are you ok?"
     "Me?" Serg said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, "I'm
ok." His breathing was labored, but otherwise he looked like everyone
else did. 
"Just so tired. We've never had to hike that far."
     "You'll make it." Herl encouraged. "Hike in front of me when we
start 
up again. I'll help you if you can't make it."
     "Thanks, but I think you'll be having as much trouble as I am."
Serg said, between deep breaths. They both sat for a long time, just
breathing and regaining their strength. Herl recovered within about
ten minutes, but Serg still was having trouble.
     "You sure you're ok?" Herl asked, now concerned about his friend.
     "I'm fine!" Serg replied, sounding annoyed. Herl looked closely
at his friend. His breathing was rasping now. The canteen hung loosely
from it's strap around his neck. Sweat still dripped from his fur.
     "Serg, lie down, will ya? I really don't think this is supposed
to happen."
     "I said I'M FINE! Are you my mother or something?"
     "No. But I'm your friend! Just listen to me, ok? It won't hurt
just to lie down and let me have a look at you."
     Serg opened his eyes and looked over to Herl. He contemplated the

situation for a moment, and decided to go along with it. He laid
himself flat on the top of the boulder. Herl quickly slid next to him
and felt his pulse. He had had some basic medical training before he
joined the army, and could tell something was certainly wrong. Serg's
heart was racing. His skin was burning to touch.
     "Fuck man! Just stay there. You're really in bad shape." Herl
said, as he got to his feet and looked around for where he put his
pack. He quickly retrieved another towel and his own canteen from it.
He scanned the area, nobody else was in sight. They had all wandered
off to do whatever. Who cared? Nobody was here now.
     "Ok, Herl. What now?" Serg said, looking up at his friend who was

looking frantic. "It can't be that bad!"
     "Listen, Serg. If you don't shut up and let me work you're gonna
be in real deep shit!" Herl said, as he unbuttoned the other dog's
pants. He had to get Serg as cool as possible and that meant that the
pants had to come off.
     "This is hardly the time for th--" Serg began to say, but Herl
quickly interrupted.
     "I'm NOT doing that now, Serg!" Herl pulled off the cloth as
quickly as he could, uncovering Serg's body to the humid air. "Just
sit still. You'll be ok."
     Herl wiped the sweat off Serg's body, rubbing every part of his
body,  including between the legs. Next, he took some of the water
from his canteen and wet the towel. Serg did as he was told the whole
time, trusting his friend knew what he was doing.
     The towel was wiped up and down Serg's chest, re-wetted, rubbed
along his legs, re-wetted, applied to his face, re-wetted...and the
cycle continued, until Herl was low on water. Serg's breathing had
returned to normal, but his fur was still fairly hot. "Come on man,
get your pants on. We've got about..." Herl looked at his watch, "half
an hour left before we start hiking. Got to find a stream."
     Serg sat up and took another deep breath. "I think I'm ok now."
He tried to stand up, and would have fallen over if Herl had not
caught him.
     "You thought you were ok a few minutes ago." Herl sat him back
down and helped him get his pants back on, giving the sheath a casual
rub as his paw slipped by. Serg smiled at him, and gave him an
affectionate lick on the muzzle. "But now we've got to find a stream."
     "Right." Serg said, getting up this time with some help. They
both leapt off the rock, and headed off to find a stream. It took
longer than usual, sing Serg had to stop frequently to rest, but they
made their way to a good-sized stream in about ten minutes.
     "Jump in." Herl told his friend, testing the water with his paw.
     "Jump in?" Serg said, surprised.
     "Yeah! What else? You've gotta get cooled off." Herl sipped a
handful of the water. "It's drinkable too." He filled a canteen at the
waterside as Serg tentatively stepped into the water. It was cold to
the touch, and relieved his scorched fur. He was soon submerged to his
waist and washing his chest with it.
     Herl joined him, but soon realized that they had five minutes to
get back. "Shit! Come on Serg!" They were both rejuvenated, and Serg
didn't have to rest, so they made it back to the site before attention
was called. Some others were wandering around now, and Herl retrieved
his pack from the top of the rock where he had forgotten it. Serg's
pack was there as well and he got it for his friend.
     "Still, Serg, I think you should hike in front of me." Herl
urged.
     "Ok, since you insist." Serg said, smiling. "I'm sorry for being
such a dickhead about..."
     "You weren't feeling well, don--"
     "ATTENTION!" the leader's voice rang out across the semi-camp.
Sounds of running could be heard everywhere as dogs rushed to get in
line before they were admonished. Herl and Serg got in quickly enough,
but there were three who made it too late.
     The leader walked deliberately towards these three, who were
panting for breath. "Where were you when I called attention?"
     One snapped to attention, "Sir! I am sorry sir!" He started
unsure of himself, "We lost our way and had to be guided back by your
voice, sir!"
     The leader let out a laugh, and the three of them flinched at it.

Suddenly, he broke it off, and yelled, "THAT IS UNACCEPTABLE!" A
pistol was soon in his hand and held to the forehead of the one who
had spoken. "Now tell me why you should live!"
     "Sir!" The dog's voice was weak in fear. "I'm sorry sir! It will
never happen again!" The second in command appeared behind the leader.
     "That's enough. You're pardoned this time, but your life won't be
so valuable next time!" He pulled back the hand of the leader and gave
him a stern look. The leader stared back at him, annoyed to be
overruled. He stormed off to the front of the line, and the second in
command followed him.
     "MARCH you lazy bitches!" he commanded, and they were off again.
All formalities were laid aside as they pushed through the brush.
Hours passed as their hearty leader walked on unaffected by the heat,
but most of the others began to straggle. Pure fear of being left
behind kept them going.
     "Halt!" the saving command came. They all came to a stop, this
time a great deal less grand-looking than the last. "Attention!" The
tired men assembled themselves quickly. Soon they were at attention,
ears pricked once again, although this time heavy breaths could be
heard everywhere. The sun hung low in the sky, and it would set in an
hour or so.
     "Men! Those of you who are left here today have survived through
one of the most rigorous hikes in the history of this war!" It was
strange that he should call them men, since he often found much more
derogatory terms to refer to them. "Ahead of us lies a small Rottie
village." A smile came to the faces of many. "Even if you are all
tired, we shall take it today, before nightfall. In a few minutes, I
will let you loose on the village. Do with the villagers as you see
fit, but I don't want ANY to escape. Do you all understand me?"
     A resounding "SIR YES SIR" echoed through the forest.
     "Then go. Teach those bastards a lesson they won't forget!" the
leader waved his arms in the direction of a column of smoke that was
rising in the distance, indicating the position of the village. Shouts
of excitement came from the dismissed soldiers. It was not often they
were let loose to destroy a civilian village.
     Herl and Serg stayed together, running towards the village with
the eighteen others who were left. Adrenaline pumped through their
veins, keeping them from exhaustion as they ran. They were all soon
near the village, and one of them called to stop.
     A general rule of the unit was that when anyone called a stop,
everyone did so. This was one way they ensured their survival if
someone detected something dangerous. Everyone was soon gathered
together. The leader and second in command had stayed behind, not
caring for such menial jobs.
     "Ok guys. We can't let any escape, and I know we haven't been
detected yet." One Shepherd said.
     "Yeah. I think we should surround them and attack from all sides.
After all, what are they gonna do?" another chimed in.
     "Wait. How about some of us guard the perimeter while the others
go in and do the job. Whoever tries to escape dies, ok?" Serg
suggested.
     "Good idea." Herl said. The rest of them seemed kind of
disappointed at it, but Serg was recognized as one of the tactical
masters of the team, so his idea was accepted. Straws were drawn for
who would have to stay back. Herl and Serg were selected to go into
the village.
     As they got ready to go, the ten who were to guard the perimeter
spread out around the village. "Save some for us!" they said, not
wanting to miss out on all the fun.
     "Everyone ready?" Serg whispered. Ten different muzzles nodded
back at him. "Then go fuck some of these Rotties over!" he said, and
they were all running into the village soon, shooting their guns into
the air.
     Herl and Serg stayed together, as they normally did. They took
the first house, or hut rather, that they saw. This was an incredibly
poor village, by the looks of it. As they entered, they saw a
Rottweiler boy stretched out on the floor, sleeping.
     "Aww...how cuuute!" Herl whispered, mockingly.
     "WAKE UP!" Serg shouted at the boy. He groaned, rolling over and
not opening his eyes. "I SAID WAKE UP!!!" Serg shouted even louder.
     "Do I have to?" he replied, not opening his eyes. Serg fired his
gun into the roof of the hut, startling the boy, who opened his eyes 
immediately. It must have been quite a surprising site to see the two 
Shepherds standing over him.
     "Get up!" Herl commanded. The boy simply sat there, dumbfounded
by his situation and wondering what in the world happened. "Stubborn
brat! Who do you think you are?" he took a hold of his arm and dragged
the boy to his feet.
     "Wha--" the boy started to stammer, but Serg wouldn't have him
talk.
     "I'll tell you when you can talk." He said, pressing the end of
his pistol against the boy's neck. It was still hot from the previous
shots, and he could feel the boy quiver under it. Herl held him in
place, getting behind him to secure his hands. "On your knees,
Rottie!"
     The boy complied, a high-pitched whining noise coming from him as
he lowered himself. Herl could tell he was scared out of his wits.
Serg was in a particularly playful mood. "I wonder how it feels to
have a pistol pointed at your head?" He said, as he moved the gun so
that it now pointed square between the boy's eyes.
     The poor boy whined and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears began to
trickle down his muzzle, but he did his best to blink them away. "Aw,
come on. It's not all that bad. I've known plenty of people in this
position, and none of them ever complain afterwards!" Serg joked with
the boy. Herl wondered if he really planned to blow this one's brains
out. "By the way, how old are you?"
     "I..." the boy began to stammer. "I'm four...fourtee...fourteen, 
mm...m...mister." He couldn't hold back his tears any longer. His
whining got louder and he began to cry softly. He dared not wipe away
the tears, lest Serg think he was trying to bat away the gun. His eyes
stung horribly.
     "Fourteen?" Serg looked at Herl in a sly way. The look just
plainly asked 'what do you think?' Herl looked at the boy from behind
him, and smiled back, nodding. Serg put the gun away in his belt. Herl
let go of his hands. The boy took the opportunity to rub his eyes. "A
whole fourteen years of age. We can't just kill you then." Serg
started to say, acting impressed. 
"That means you've grown quite a bit, doesn't it?"
     The boy sniffled, and nodded. "Yes, mister. I was only four and a
half feet tall before."
     "Wow! You must be at least a foot taller then, right?"
     The boy, although confused at this change, smiled and nodded
again. "A foot and two inches."
     "That's great. But enough about your height." Serg smiled at the
boy like one who smiles at a friend who has just told him a great
secret. "But haven't you grown otherwise as well?"
     The Rottweiler looked confused. "I'm sorry, mister. I don--"
     "Oh you know. You can tell me, I already know!" Serg said, 
comfortingly.
     The boy looked like he was caught doing something wrong. "Y...you

know?"
     "Of course I know!" Serg said. It was all Herl could do to keep
himself from laughing out loud. "Why don't you show me how much you've
really grown there?"
     "B...but...that's--" the boy began to stammer again. Nobody had
ever confronted him about this kind of a thing before. The situation
was starting to get a little uncomfortable.
     "If you don't want to, that's ok. I'll just treat you like you
haven't grown." Serg was a master at playing with children's minds.
"And do you know what we do to those who haven't grown?"
     The boy shook his head slowly, but the fear in his eyes was
evident. "So do you want to show me or not?" Serg hurried him.
     "Ok, fine." The boy said quickly, predicting a fate much worse if
he dared to disobey this man. Serg waited for a few seconds, then
looked impatiently at the boy.
     "Well, go ahead already!" The boy, under pressure, got up shakily
from his knees, almost falling over in the process. He quickly undid
his pants and they dropped quietly (in comparison to the sounds
outside) to the floor. His black furred sheath was exposed to be
viewed for Serg's approval. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"
     Serg looked him over. The boy's puppy fur still hadn't shed from
his sheath, giving it a very soft and attractive look. He licked his
lips and smiled, moving very close to the Rottie. He put his hands on
the boy's hips, rubbing them softly. The boy squirmed a little
uncomfortably, but let Serg continue. His blue eyes stared up in
confusion at the strange Shepherd that was touching him. What was
happening?
     "What's your name?" Serg asked, as he lifted they boy's shirt off
his shoulders and over his head.
     "Yalen, mister." The boy replied, clasping his hands in front of
him to cover himself.
     "Yalen." Serg said, thinking. "That's a nice name." He stood
about half a foot above Yalen, and took the Rottweiler up in a big
hug. "You don't have to be afraid of me."
     Yalen's confusion was evident. He had heard so many bad things
about these horrible people: how they ruthlessly took over cities and
killed everyone in them, how they tortured those that lived through
the attack, how they--but this wasn't anything he'd ever heard of.
This man seemed to be nice enough, and yet, he had been holding a gun
to his head a few moments ago.
     Serg lifed the boy's muzzle with one hand, and looked into the
deep blue eyes. Quicker than Yalen could react, he pressed his lips
against the boy's. The unexpected contact with the other dog shocked
Yalen, since such a gesture towards one of his age was unacceptable in
his society. It didn't feel bad, though. In fact, Yalen thought, he
was enjoying the warm feeling of Serg's lips.
     Those thoughts quickly changed, as he felt a paw grab at his most

private part. He pulled away from Serg, breaking the kiss. "Wha--"
     "Oh come on!" Serg said, wrapping an arm around the boy's
shoulder while keeping his paw on his sheath. He gave it a quick tug,
and watched the boy's face contort in pleasure. "Don't tell me you
don't like it!" he said, sounding disappointed and stroking the sheath
slowly. "Hasn't anybody ever loved you before?"
     Yalen took in a quick breath as Serg's paw made its way across
his sheath. "My family loves me." He managed to say, while Serg
continued his attentions. "But...not like this..." he exhaled slowly
and closed his eyes, leaning back against the strong arm holding him.
He never knew how much pleasure could come from the touch of another.
     Herl watched the fun, and felt his erection press insistently
against his pants. Looking over to Serg, he could see his friend was
just as excited by this experience. They'd raided villages before, but
most of the time they had to satisfy themselves with some leftover
bitch. Here was a boy in his prime, never exposed to pleasure before,
and they were the first to take advantage of him.
     Serg felt the pink tip sneak out of the sheath, slick with
pre-cum. He encouraged it with some more hard tugs, until it grew to
full height. His paw was slimy with the boy's fluids. He lifted his
paw from the boy's sheath, and took a long sniff of the intoxicating
stuff. He rubbed his paw across Yalen's bare chest, leaving trails of
pre-cum between his nipples. 
"Do you want more?"
     Yalen felt the loving hand leave him, and the small shocks of
intense sensation stop. He opened his eyes, and looked into the eyes
of his captor longingly, as he felt the firm paw rub the slimy
substance over his chest. It grazed one of his nipples teasingly,
sending another shock through him. 
"Yes...p...please." he said, feeling the unfamiliar ache of an
erection.
     "Then you'll have to help me out first." Serg said, letting go of
the surprised youth. He unbuttoned his pants and sighed thankfully as
he took of his own pants, revealing his rock-hard penis. Yalen looked
down at it, amazed, not expecting him to have done anything near that.
"Never seen another man naked before?"
     Yalen just shook his head. His penis was nothing in comparison to
this shepherd's. The glistening cock hung there, waiting for
something. "Now, boy, on your knees!" Serg commanded. Yalen was taken
aback by this sudden change in tone. He complied, not seeing what harm
it could do, although he still wondered why the man hadn't just asked.
Serg quickly grabbed the boy's ears firmly, and pulled his head
forward until his muzzle was an inch away from the waiting cock. Pain
replaced Yalen's pleasure as he was yanked forward. "Kiss it."
     Yalen stared, once again confused, at the rod hanging in front of
him. Kiss it? He'd never even seen another man's penis before, and now
he was supposed to put his mouth to it? How disgusting!
     "Didn't you hear me?" Serg gave the boy's head a shake by the
ears. In the background, he could see Herl removing his own pants.
     "Yes, mister. But why?" Yalen asked. He wrinkled his nose at the 
strange scent. He wasn't used to sniffing another man's private area,
and it was certainly different.
     "Why?" Serg moved his hands downward, taking Yalen's ears with
them so that he had to look up or have his ears pulled off. He let out
a whine of pain, and Serg stopped. "Because A, I told you to, and B,
if you don't you won't live to regret it." He threatened.
     Yalen felt tears begin to well up again from the pain in his
ears. They were very sensitive organs, especially for a dog. Fearing a
worse chastisement, he quickly pressed his lips against the tip of
Serg's penis, and removed it. He wiped his lips afterwards, trying to
get rid of the salty taste.
     "Oh that won't do you any good, Yalen. You'll be tasting a lot
more soon enough." Serg said, smiling but keeping a firm grip on the
boy's ears. "Give it a lick, would you?" Yalen hesitated again, but
was quick to comply when his ears received another yank. His tongue
crept out gingerly, and lapped at the tip. This time the taste stayed.
     "There's a good pup." Serg let go of his ears and patted him on
the head. "Now, I don't want to feel any of your teeth, ok?"
     Yalen looked up at the Shepherd who was towering over him. "What
do you mean?"
     Serg placed one paw on the back of Yalen's head, and pushed his
hips forward. His penis pressed against the boy's closed lips. Yalen's
first instinct was to move back, but his head was held in place by
Serg's paw. The strange taste infiltrated his lips. "Open up, pup."
Yalen saw no other alternative. He felt so helpless in the hands of
this powerful man. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth and let it be
filled with Serg's maleness.
     Aside from the initial feeling of choking, it didn't feel all
that bad. Serg began to thrust into this throat, dragging his penis
across Yalen's tongue every time. Yalen's head was pushed forward with
each thrust, and he soon got into the pattern of it. His own erection
pulsed beneath him, but he didn't have time to take care of that. The
taste which he had earlier wiped away from his muzzle now filled his
senses. It wasn't vile, but he could do without it.
     Just as he was starting to get used to the rhythm of Serg's
thrusts, something else pressed against him. Herl was behind him,
along with his own hardness waiting to be released. Yalen felt Herl's
rod press insistently against his rear end, and wondered what he was
doing. The question was quickly answered when the length was shoved
inward in one motion. Yalen let out a yip of surprise and pain, but
was muffled by Serg's maleness.
     Why were they doing this to him! Whatever it was, it hurt! His
muscles tightened up and he closed his eyes, trying to block out the
pain.
     Herl felt the boy tighten around him. It made it hard to thrust
into him, but he kept on trying. "Loosen up, Yalen!" He whispered in
the dog's ear. Yalen refused, shaking his head as best he could with
Serg pumping into him. Herl ran a paw down the back of the boy's neck.
"It's ok, it won't hurt for long." He said, "You'll like it in the
end."
     Yalen felt the prickling of the fur along his neck as Herl's paw
rubbed against it. He calmed down a bit, convinced by his words. They
hadn't really hurt him yet, and they didn't seem like they wanted to
kill him. Herl felt the boy loosen up, and thrust into him quickly
before he could change his mind.
     Serg, meanwhile, was fast approaching his climax. He took a hold
of Yalen's head with both hands, and pushed forward one last time.
With a loud groan of pleasure, he released his seed into the boy's
unsuspecting muzzle. Not even knowing what was happening, Yalen gagged
on the stuff, and tried to spit it out. It was difficult, since the
rod was still buried in his mouth. Serg removed himself from the boy,
who was soon on all fours trying to spit out the vile stuff.
     Herl continued his thrusts into the boy, and moved with him as he
got on all fours. Yalen felt the burning behind him subside, followed
by the numbing pleasure of Herl's penis sliding in and out of him. His
own length was seeping pre-cum, and he supported himself on one paw
while he tried to release himself with the other.
     Herl felt Yalen tighten around him again, making it hard to
thrust again. He grunted, and pulled out of the boy. "This is fucking
useless." Yalen looked back at him, the blue eyes expressing both fear
and sorrow at the same time. "I'll save it for the next one."
     "Whatever." Serg said, putting his pants back on over his
shrinking erection. Herl did likewise. Yalen stayed on all fours,
watching the two and wondering what was going to happen next. Serg
took out his gun again, and pointed it at the boy's head. "So, are we
done with him?"
     Yalen could hardly believe it. "No! Wait!" He screamed, covering
his head with both paws and falling to the ground in tears. "Don't
kill me! Please don't, mister. I didn't do anything!" his sobs
dissolved into the whines of fear that pups normally emit in times of
stress.
     Serg moved over to the boy, and straddled his back. He placed the
end of his barrel at the back of the boy's head. "You were really fun,
Yalen. It's too bad we can't keep you." He said, but didn't pull the
trigger.
     "Pleeeaassseee..." Yalen pleaded for the last time. Herl looked
from Yalen to Serg, and back to Yalen, then burst out into laughter.
     "Oh please stop it Serg." He said between fits of laughter.
"You're killing ME!" Serg joined him in laughing, and put his gun away
as quickly as he had drawn it.
     "Get up you sniveling pup! I wasn't going to kill you!" he said, 
getting up off of Yalen's back. Yalen got up as soon as he could,
looking frantically at the two of them.
     "Y...you...you weren't gonna...?" he stammered. Herl and Serg
both shook their heads.
     "You're too young for even us to kill." Herl explained. "But you
are coming with us, though." Yalen looked at them quizzically, not
knowing where they would take him. Herl got some rope from his pack
and bound the boy's hands and feet together. "Now you stay here, we'll
be back for you." He said, lying the boy on the ground. It was then he
noticed that Yalen still had a rock-hard erection. "We'll have to do
something about that...later."
     The two of them left the home, to meet a scene of carnage. There
were about 5 dead Rottweiler bodies lying in the street bleeding to
death, or shot up so badly they had died immediately. "Wow. Didn't
expect the others to be this violent." Serg commented.
     "Waste of bullets." Herl said, disgusted. "Where to next?"
     "Lets go to the other end, they might not have raided that yet."
With that, the two sprinted off toward the other end of the village,
hoping they wouldn't miss out on everything. Sure enough, this end
showed no sign of the carnage, except that some of the Rottweiler
women and children were running through the streets.
     The two chose another random home, and entered. Here stood four 
Rotties. A grown man, woman, and two small pups. They were evidently 
expecting someone to enter, and the man had a pistol held out pointed
at Serg's head. "Get out of my house!" he warned, the gun shaking in
his hand.
     "Come on now," Herl said, "you really don't want to do this, do
you?"
     "Don't talk, just get out!" he shouted.
     "Calm down--" Serg began.
     "Don't tell me to calm down!" his voice rose to a scream. "You
come here to ravage my family and you expect me to calm down!"
     "Put down the gun..." Herl warned. The man pulled the trigger.
The bullet whizzed by Serg, but knicked Herl's ear.
     "Now THAT was a mistake." Serg said. "Still feel like loosing
your life, or do you want to drop the gun?"
     "Oh fuck it!" Herl said, pulling his own gun out and taking a
well aimed shot at the man's heart. Less than a second later the man
was lying dead on the floor, and the woman screamed in terror.
     "Now why did you have to go an do that?" Serg said, annoyed.
     "It HURT!" Herl whined, putting a paw on his ear to stop the
minor bleeding that had started up.
     "You bastards! You killed him! You killed..." the female broke
off into sobs. The pups were making high-pitched noises in the
background. Herl clasped his ears, which were hurting enough already.
     "Will you make them shut up already?" he asked the woman.
     The female hushed the two pups quickly, fearing for their lives.
     "Better. Your husband should have died before we let him shoot,
but we were willing to be forgiving. He condemned all of you to death
by firing that shot." Herl said, as officially as he could while
holding a paw on one ear.
     The woman shook her head in disbelief. "No. You wouldn't." Herl
simply pointed at the dead body.
     "You could try to make it up to me." he said, smiling at her 
suggestively. She looked back at him horrified.
     "Will you spare the pups?" she pleaded.
     "Maybe." Herl said, undoing his pants, and stepping out of them
for the second time. Serg sighed, why did he always have to be so
horny!
     "Ok bitch." Herl said, walking over to the woman. "Let's see," he
took hold of her shirt, "how you look," the sound of ripping fabric
could be heard as he tore her shirt off, revealing ample breasts
covered in brown and black fur, "under these clothes." He finished,
lifting her to her feet by the scruff of the neck. It didn't take long
to get her pants off as well.
     "Now, bitch, on all fours!" Serg was surprised how nasty his
normally amiable friend could be. The woman did as she was told,
bowing her head between her forearms in shame. Herl got down behind
her, and needing to release himself, thrust into her quickly.
     He pushed into her with such force that she let out a grunt of
pain. It didn't take long until he was moaning and approaching his
climax. The pups, seeing their mother abused, leapt to her rescue. The
little claws and razor-sharp teeth dug into Herl's arms and legs.
"FUCK!" he screamed, as the pain shot through his system. Serg was
quick to react, pulling the two off his friend and holding them at
arms length. Herl was too close to his climax to stop now, and he
groaned as he loosed his sperm into the Rottie.
     He pulled out of her and stood up. Serg was busy trying to keep
the snarling pups from biting him. Herl casually walked over and put
on his pants. Walking back over to the woman, he took the pistol from
her husband's dead fingers. The female had stayed in the same
position, not wanting to make the wrong move and have her children
killed. Herl knelt down behind her with the pistol. Slowly, he pressed
the hot barrel against the opening to her vagina.
     "You sick..." Serg started to say, but was cut off by a snap from
one of the pups. Herl pushed the whole barrel into her. She gasped in
surprise and fear, and her breathing became shallow.
     "Why should I let you live?" Herl asked her.
     She burst into tears. "I gave you what you came for." She sobbed 
heavily. "You got your love. I was your--"
     "My cum-hole. And nothing more." Herl finished. "And those pups?"
He said, flinching at how his wounds stung, "how did you make up for
their actions?"
     "I...I..." she searched for a reason, but couldn't find one.
     "You didn't." Herl finished. Serg thought that the shot was
louder than any he had ever heard, even though it was muffled by her
body. Her body slumped to the floor, and Herl let go of the gun. The
pups squealed in fear. They knew what happened.
     "Bastard." Serg finished the sentence he had started before. "You

didn't have to do that! I don't care how much your ear hurts!"
     "I'm having a bad day ok?" Herl said, shrugging him off. "She
wasn't so great anyway." At that point, the two pups attacked Herl
again. "What the--" Herl kicked them both, but not before they
inflicted even more wounds on him. "Fuck these little things! Why
can't they just sit and be cute!" He kicked one as it came back from
more. It skidded across the floor, hitting the wall and laying still.
The other one cowered in a corner, its courage dissipated by the
defeat of its brother.
     Serg held up his hand to Herl as his friend began to stomp over
to the second pup. "Don't do it, Herl. Let it go." Herl didn't pay any
attention to him. He walked over, and picked up the pup by the throat.
He held it in the air, squeezing until it stopped squirming, and
dropped it.
     Serg lowered his head. Herl had never acted like this before. He
was always the kind and compassionate one. What had happened? Whatever
it was, he couldn't let it go on. "Herl? What's wrong with you?" he
challenge, standing up to his full height.
     Herl, standing upright, was still an inch shorter than his
friend, but he could be just as intimidating. "Nothing's wrong with
me, Serg. I'm just having a bad day." Herl explained, again.
     "You've already said that. I know you, Herl. You don't kill
innocent pups just because you're having a bad day."
     "For god's sake, Serg! This is war! Do you think people won't die
in war?"
     "People will die!" Serg raised his voice. "But what is this?" he 
pointed at the four bodies, "is this war?"
     Herl looked around him. The dead father, the abused and killed
mother, and the beaten pups, one still shuddering its last breaths.
His response was almost inaudible, "yes."
     Serg walked closer to his friend, who bowed his head and began
weeping. Wrapping an arm around him to support him, he probed further,
"What happened, Herl?"
     Herl's dark brown eyes looked up at his friend, "They killed
them, Serg! They killed them both!" He broke into sobs again, pressing
his head against the fur on Serg's chest. "They're dead! Dead!"
     Serg was dumbfounded. "Who's dead? What are you talking about?"
     Herl kept his muzzle buried in the comforting fur. "I got the 
message...yesterday, before the trek started." He began, his breath
uneven. "It was one of those...you know...official looking letters."
The composure which he had regained temporarily broke down again, and
he began to cry again.
     Serg still had no clue what this was all about. He held his
friend close to him, knowing he had to be there. "Come on now.
Everything's gonna be ok. Just tell me what happened!"
     Herl sniffed back the tears once again, and continued. "I opened
it, expecting some kind of promotion or something. You know how it
goes." He paused. "They took the city, Serg. They took over Teliro!"
Herl lost his composure for the third time, and started to beat his
fist against Serg's chest in frustration.
     Serg wondered what could have been so important about Teliro.
Cities are taken in war, so what? Then he realized it. Herl had lived
in Teliro before he enlisted in the army. So his family lived
there...or by Herl's previous comments...used to live there. A chill
ran down his spine as the full shock of the situation hit him. "Oh
Herl." He comforted him as best he could. "It's ok. You couldn't do
anything."
     Herl lifted his head from Serg's chest. The teary eyes were still
full of hatred, a hatred which Serg had never imagined to see in his
friend. "That's right. I couldn't do anything about it. But who
cares?" he became sarcastic. "My family is just some numbers on paper
now! They'll never be remembered after I'm gone! My kid brother is
missing, and my parents are dead! Don't you get it?" He asked,
grabbing his tags, which always hung around his neck. "These are all I
am now! I have no identity!"
     Serg didn't know what do say. He couldn't say that what Herl said
was wrong. Most of it was true. "Herl. I know its hard."
     "No you don't! Your dad and mom are both there to send you the 'I
love you' and 'Hope you're doing ok!' You'll never know!" he shouted
back. Serg was left without any reply. He simply stared back at Herl.
He couldn't comprehend the amount of pain his friend must have been
going through, but if it was enough to encourage his behavior, then he
knew Herl needed a friend to lean on.
     "Herl. I don't know what you're going through." Serg started.
"But I'm still here. Ok?" He sqeezed Herl's shoulders, and hugged him.
"Don't let this get to you." The moment he said it, he knew it was the
wrong thing to say. Herl's body tensed against him, and he was pushed
away.
     "DON'T LET IT GET TO ME?" Herl screamed back. "What do you mean
don't let it get to me?" Serg shook his head. This was hard for both
of them.
     "I didn't mean that. Just listen, will you?" Serg pleaded. Herl
crossed his arms and looked back, his eyes still burning with hatred.
Serg wondered whether the gun would be turned to him next.
"I...I...You've gotta think about this, Herl. Look at this place." He
gestured around him again. "Your parents are dead. Sure, you're right.
They are insignificant to the war, or to the commanders, or to the
leaders of the troops. But to you and me, they're important. What else
can you do but feel sorry?" Herl was about to reply, but Serg
continued. "Nothing, Herl. Just remember, you have a name, and you're
not just a number."
     Herl had nothing more to accuse. Nothing to complain about. Just
that empty feeling left inside him. One that used to be filled with
memories, love, and hope. It was a vast chasm now, that seemed
endless. He lowered his head, and started to walk out of the room.
Serg followed him, eager to leave behind this horrible scene of pain
and suffering.
     "Can you imagine how they must have died?" Herl asked as they
walked back towards the other end of the village. The raid had ended.
A few stragglers still ran, but they'd be herded up by the outside
guards.
     "No, Herl. I can't. And it's better if you don't either." Serg 
suggested. "But I'll tell you this. I'm amazed you could hold your
composure for a whole day and a half before breaking down like that.
If it was me," Serg laughed lightly, trying to help the situation,
"I'd be crying like a baby seconds after the letter arrived."
     Herl slowed his pace a little, watching the ground. Serg wrapped
an arm around him, thinking it might help. The two were indeed a
touching site in the middle of all this carnage. It wasn't long until
they came back to the first hut. Yalen was still lying there tied up.
His erection has since subsided, and he was nodding off to sleep
again.
     They untied him, and picked him up onto his feet. By the sounds
of things, the 'battle' was over and the village was taken. Herl and
Serg walked outside with Yalen to see five of his companions come
walking down the street in victory. Three Rottweiler women accompanied
them, with bound hands and muzzles.
     "Found a nice one, hmm?" one of them said, coming up to meet the
two and smiling.
     "Yeah." Serg replied. "Had to kill a whole family, though." He
added, in a lowered tone.
     "Really? What happened?"
     "One had a firearm, and they tried to resist."
     The other looked over to Herl, who was looking down at his feet
with his ears lowered. "Hey, what happened to him?" he asked, and
looked closer. Herl hoped he wouldn't have to explain again, and his
luck didn't fail him. He flinched as a paw touched the part of his ear
that was knicked by the bullet. His companion quickly took his paw
back, seeing him flinch. "Sorry man. Didn't mean to hurt ya."
     "Don't stress it." Herl replied, keeping his head down. He was
afraid if he lifted it some obvious sign of his tears and sorrow might
provoke further questioning.
     The others were all gathered around in a circle now, smiles on
most of their faces. Herl was the only one with a visible wound.
Evidently, nobody else encountered any resistance. One concerned one
whispered to Serg, "Is he going to be ok? It looks like something
horrible happened!"
     Serg examined his friend once again. All he could say was "I
guess so." He didn't know if Herl wanted to announce his problem to
everyone just yet.
     "Hey Herl!" Another one said, getting a white box out of his
pack. "You need some help with that ear? I've got a MedPack with me."
He opened it up and examined the contents. "Well? Are you gonna let me
or not?" He asked, sarcasm lining his voice.
     Herl walked over, glad someone had been prepared for an injury.
It was really hurting like a bitch. He got on his knees and bent his
head down in front of the one with the MedPack, whom he recognized as
Graf. Graf took out some disinfectant from the case, along with a
cotton swab. "Ok, man. You know this is gonna fucking hurt." He
warned, pouring some of the clear fluid onto the swab.
     "It already fucking hurts." Herl said simply, waiting for that
horrible feeling that was about to shock through his nerves.
     "Um...Herl," Graf said, "If I'm gonna do this, you'll have to
lift up your ears." Herl hadn't realized his ears were still bent back
on his head. It was hard to keep them pricked with a wound. He tried
to get them to stand up, but it felt like he was ripping muscles doing
so.
     "I can't do it Graf." He sighed, getting nervous. "I can't lift
my ears."
     Graf looked down at Herl, now concerned. "Not at all? You can't
move them?"
     Herl tried to move them again. "I can move them...I think." Waves
of pain flowed down from the tip of his ear, causing him to whine
softly with the effort.
     "Stop it, man." Graf said, hearing the whine. "Don't try too
hard. You could hurt yourself." He used his free paw, since one was
holding the cotton swab, to tentatively lift Herl's ear. Herl let out
a short shout of pain as the ear was forced upwards. It took all of
his willpower not to jerk his head away. "Shit! I'm sorry." Graf
apologized, knowing he had lifted it too quickly.
     Graf could only hope no permanent damage was done. The tip of the
ear was blown away, and blood had already begun to clot. "It might
grow back," he said, "but I doubt it." With that, he applied pressure
to the wound, opening it up again.
     Herl knew he had to do it to keep it from getting infected. He
winced, and now tears of pain trickled down his cheeks. "It's almost
done," Graf said, quickly applying the cotton swab to the ear. He held
it firmly, so that when Herl tried to jerk away it was futile. A few
strokes with it, and it was over.
     It didn't take much to finish off the bandaging, and soon they
were all standing again. Herl's ear felt a lot better. He still had a
hart time lifting his ears, but he could at least do it now. "I think
it was the clotting." Graf suggested. "Might have screwed something up
with your nerves er something like that."
     Herl didn't care, long as he could lift it. He was afraid he
might have lost an ear, and was glad at least that didn't happen. The
seven of them, along with their captives, walked casually back to the
'base,' everyone talking but Herl. Nobody really noticed his silence,
though.
     Upon arrival, they saw the rest of the troop were already setting
up. They reported in with the leader, who didn't seem too concerned.
When he saw Herl's ear, however, he immediately told him to report
back after camp was set up. They left and split up, each taking their
own captive to the site where their tent was to be set up.
     With some help from Yalen, Herl and Serg set up their tent.
Others were surprised that they were cooperating with the captive, but
Yalen seemed peaceable enough that nobody objected. After everthing
was set up, Herl was ready to lie down and sleep when Serg reminded
him about the leader's command.
     "Good luck." He encouraged, as Herl walked reluctantly out of the
tent. They had set up nearby, so he was at the entrance to the
leader's tent in no time.
     He slapped the flap of the tent, indicating that he was outside.
"Herl? Is that you?" The voice of his leader came from the inside.
     "Yes, sir! I am reporting upon your request, sir!" Herl barked
back formally.
     "Come in." the leader invited, in a friendlier voice than usual.
Herl pushed the flap of the entance aside and ducked into the tent.
This being the command center of the troop, it was larger than the
others. The leader sat cross-legged in one corner, while the rest of
the tent housed two sleeping bags and other equipment including a
radio in the opposite corner.
     "You asked me to come here, sir?" Herl said, standing as tall as
he could in the tent.
     "Sit down," the leader said casually. Herl happily took a seat
near the entrance. "You took a hit, did you?"
     "Yes, sir." Herl replied. "An armed Rottie trying to defend his
family. He was shooting at Serg, but missed and hit me."
     "How badly?"
     "Not critical, sir. It should be fine in a few days."
     The leader looked genuinely concerned for Herl. "We have no
medical staff on this mission, Herl. We'll have to hole up in this
village for days, maybe weeks. I can only hope you don't get
infected."
     Herl shuddered at the thought. Rotting away in this jungle
without anyone to help him. "No sir. I certainly hope not."
     "But that's not the reason you're here." The leader continued,
looking at the once-again lowered head of his soldier. "Did anyone
make it?" he asked.
     Herl looked up quickly. He was unsure if the leader was referring
to what he suspected. "I...I'm sorry, sir."
     "Did anyone survive the attack on Teliro?" the leader said 
deliberately. The words flew out of his mouth and embedded themselves
in Herl's chest. Indeed, Herl looked as if he was struck a fatal blow.
     "M...my..." he stumbled. "Brother, sir. He is missing." The
sorrow he had felt earlier welled up inside him, but he struggled to
contain it in front of his commander. "Otherwise, sir, they all died."
The words came slowly out of his mouth. He had so much else to say,
but it was inappropriate.
     The leader stared at the boy in front of him. To him, the fully
grown man of twenty something was only a pup. "I am sorry." He said,
sincerely. "Normally an occurrence such as this would constitute an
excuse for leave, but..." he hesitated, "you know where we are.
There's no way to send you home."
     "Sir, if I may say so," Herl began, "I have no home." The
coldness in his voice chilled even the commander. But the truth of the
statement also hit. Teliro was no longer the Teliro that Herl had left
in search of adventure. It was a ruined city, with ruined memories.
     "I can offer you no consolation," the leader said almost sadly,
"Just that I hope the pain subsides. It will take a while, though."
     "Thank you, sir." Herl replied, without emotion.
     "You may leave." The leader dismissed him. Herl got up, saluted
as best he could in the confines of the tent, and walked out. He
returned to his tent to find Serg waiting for him. Yalen had fallen
asleep off to one side of the tent.
     "How'd it go?" an inquisitive voice met his entrance. Herl looked
down at his friend, and couldn't take it any longer.
     "Why, Serg?" he whispered. The sadness that he repressed in the 
commander's tent did no such thing here. He dropped to his knees and
put his face in his paws. "Why?"
     Serg was quickly at his side. "Jeez, man. Don't do this to
yourself!" he rubbed the fur on his friend's back, remembering his
father do it to him when he cried.
     "I could die here too, you know!" Herl cried. "My life could end
now, and what would happen?"
     Serg couldn't understand. "What are you talking about?" he asked.
     "If I get infected," he whimpered, "then that's the end of it. My

parents died, my brother starved to death, most probably, and I die of
some infection I get in the middle of nowhere!"
     "Oh shut up you fucking wimp." Serg chastised. "I know you aren't

afraid of some silly infection."
     "Serg," Herl said, pausing in his crying, "why are you here?"
     "What do you mean?"
     "I mean, why are you here? Why are you kneeling next to a dog
crying like a new-born pup? Why do you stay here, talking to me?"
     Serg didn't know much about psychology, but he knew that his
answer to the question was important. "Why am I here?" he stalled.
"Well...I guess...its because the whimpering pup next to me is my
closest friend." After looking at him for a second, Serg added with a
smile, "In more ways than one." Even Herl couldn't stop a smile from
coming to his face. They had shared a few intimate moments in the
past. "Herl, you've seen me cry before. And I've cried for smaller
things than what is happening to you now. Why would I leave?"
     Herl didn't reply. His sobs gradually came to a stop. Looking up
at Serg, who thankfully was still there, he smiled. "Thanks."
     "Anytime," Serg smiled back, and embraced his friend again.
"We'll talk some more about it tomorrow, ok?"
     "Tomorrow." Herl repeated. His friend helped him get into his
sleeping bag, since he was very shaky after the experience. The two of
them talked each other to sleep, and the cold night passed without a
disturbance...


Other stories by Kashra can be found at Furry Pleasures -
http://www.alfaskop.net/~albrecht