Going Feet First Ch. 02

It can't get better if you don't suffer a little for it...

He buried himself into her and she gave a quick mew as their thighs met. He could feel red drops of his own running his backside but he pushed the image from his mind as he withdrew and thrust in again. Her reaction was less pained with that third plunge, and even less so on the fourth and all those that came after.

Settling into a gentle cycle, he kept a close watch on her facial expression as those winces died off in favor of the smile he was able to provoke in the foreplay. Soon she was panting and gasping with his motions and giving sweet moans that were sweet music to his ears. And her claws remained wonderfully tucked away as her tail batted at his calves. Giving him an idea.

Without breaking rhythm, he slipped a hand down her backside until he came to the base of her fuzzy fifth limb. Curious how close her race was to its smaller cousin, he scratched two fingers down into the fur above her tailbone as he thrust into her dripping pussy. The reaction was immediate as a rising heat inside her folds consumed his cock and she gave a pitched squeal.

"Michael!" she gasped, her pelvic muscles clenching down on him as he itched the base of her tail. She desperately sucked in a lungful of air, her mouth gaping and claws coming out to sink into his backside. He gritted his teeth but still gave a mad grin as he took up a more vigorous speed with both blood and sweat rolling down his back.

The intense pleasure of this new-found spot had Mila bucking her hips, her body shuddering as he pounded her insides. Suddenly he sat up and took hold of her knees, and spreading her legs wider so he could move even faster. The Neko squealed as she dug her claws into the parachute, her eyes rolling back in her head as her pelvis thrust up into the air. At that moment came her final cry as her body shivered and shook right down to the tip of her tail. Her fur prickled with goose bumps, and then she collapsed. Michael's erection slipping from her limp body with him swallowing something in his throat and appearing to be on edge.

"You've mated... before..."

"Yeah," he gasped.

"But no one else anymore... no one but me..."

"You're the only one for me now," he answered, panting as he leaned down over her to give her another kiss.

Claws retracted, she took his cock into her hand to stroke it as their lips met. His abs went solid as his lips pursed and his brow furrowed. Using the combination of their fluids for lubricant, she rubbed his throbbing member and enjoyed his every little twitch and sound he made as she did so. In moments he let out a fierce groan and his toes curled beneath him. She felt him pulse once, then twice, and then felt a spray of hot fluids shoot out over her belly as he went rigid against her.

When their mouths parted again, he shuddered as one more rope dripped out onto the thicker patch of brown fur over her vulva. Then he sat back panting and sweating with a stupid grin on his face, staring at her just as she did him in blissful silence. The two of them drinking in the other's image, of being cover in various fluids that glistened in the moonlight feeding in through the roof of the tent.

In mere moments, fatigue began to steal across Mila's face, although Michael still looked to be as awake as when they had started. As much as the idea of a second round thrilled her, that sexual high was falling to leave her far too sore to go again. And so she rolled over onto her side and looked to him with her longing eyes.

Taking the cue, he moved in behind her and wrapped his arms around her mid-section with one leg nudging up in between hers. Her tail was quick to wrap around his thigh, settling close to his crotch as he pulled the parachute beneath them over their bodies.

Cuddling like this, he could feel the purrs coming from her chest. Grinning at a job well done, he gave her one last kiss behind the ears and shut his eyes for the night.

..............................

The sun hadn't even broken the horizon when Galen woke. Dragging himself into consciousness was a slow process as he coaxed his eyes into opening. Registering the room was lit by a golden light, he grinned and started getting his body into motion. With a yawn and several cracks in his back, he stretched out on the bed and felt for his bed mate. Only to find the spot next to him vacant. That momentary scare kick-started his mind and he sat up in and instant while turning toward the light source.

The sudden shock settled as he found Celia sitting at the table, humming a soft tune as she sorted through a pile of gathered greens. With the skill of a veteran chef, she used her bone knife to efficiently split a thick root in half and chop it into wafers. After throwing what he presumed to be the inedible bit aside, she started dividing her ingredients up into three separate piles.

"Good morning, Celia," Galen mumbled as he hunched over, rubbing his face and glancing over at Petra who was still curled up by the fireplace.

"Good morning, love," she answered, seemingly careless of the third woman in the room as she started picking through a pile of berries to remove the stems.

"What are you making?" he asked, yawning once again and rubbing his eyes.

"Breakfast," she answered cheerfully, and without skipping a beat or losing her pleasant tone, she asked in return, "Who is the Neko?"

The sudden question made him pause a moment. Still waking up, he stuttered and rapidly blinked his eyes as he had to organize his thoughts. "Ah, well, uh, umm. Let me think here... heh... uhh... you know that eruption of fire last night?"

Celia stopped cleaning her gathered fruits and turned to him with a frown, "The one that shook the ground?"

He scratched the back of his head as he said, "Yes, that one. Welll... that fire was caused by Michael. He set a trap for the Ra'zorlichs that were trying to kill us. One of whom was Petra... her."

After staring blankly at him for a moment, Celia followed his pointed finger over to the pitch-black feline sleeping in front of the hearth. The Elf's lips pursed and slid over to one side of her face as she thought this over. Tapping her knife on the table as she did so. "And because she failed to kill you, you sentenced her to... what? Not death, I see. Servitude, then?"

The Private's eyes widened, completely speechless as she scanned his face up and down and took in his reaction. A light huff of a chuckle escaped her as she grinning and went back to divvying up her gathered greens. "Servitude it is, then. But may I ask that you, please, allow me to finally tumble with my love before you take her to bed?"

Brow rising and jaw falling open, the only thing he managed to say was, "What?"

Celia looked back to him, cocking her head to one side with a confused look. "She is a beautiful woman, isn't she? And you are still a young Human... didn't you sentence her to servitude for... physical reasons?"

He blinked at her, a frown creasing his forehead before she blurted, "Not that I mind! I don't mind at all! You have such a short time to enjoy life, I would never deny you. But please, before her... please, please take me first. I've awaited it for nearly eighty years; I don't want to be cheated again."

On that last sentence, his mouth fell wide open. His jaw started moving but no words escaped his throat. Eighty years? Never minding her age, she didn't mind him... sleeping with another? The thought hadn't crossed his mind, but she was right. He was still young and he had only just been matched with her. Having options was nice, and if his newest companion was obligated for such a thing...

The sudden thoughts of Petra lying naked before him and begging for it alongside Celia lit up a red tint in his cheeks. Ashamedly looking to the floor, he quickly forced the imagery aside despite its appeal. Unless the Neko's life was in danger, he swore to himself right then to never abuse this power that her laws had given to him.

He was raised better than that.

Affirming this self-promise on his family's honor and his own, he let out a sigh and turned his focus back to Celia. She was looking to him expectantly. He nodded, "Yeah. Yeah, I promise, Celia."

Her bodily glow flickered and she gave him her own golden grin in return before resuming her meal preparation.

"So what are you preparing?" he asked while scooping his clothes up off the floor. One whiff of his t-shirt made his eyes cross as its stench flooded his nose. Gritting his teeth as he pulled it on, he made finding that river a sudden priority.

"An Elven breakfast meal," Celia answered. "I woke early and decided to gather some greens. Give you a taste of something I'm used to..." she trailed off, glancing over at Galen for a second as he slipped on his boots. She had a downed look to her face, her ears sagging and her lips pursed as she fought to quell the tear trying to break out from her ducts. When he pulled his laces tight, she snapped her focus back to her task. But as quick as she was, her move had not gone unnoticed.

"Celia, what's wrong? You seem... off."

The Elf sat silent for a moment, setting her knife down and resting her forehead in her palm with her elbow on the table top. "I had a dream last night... A vision if you want to call it..."

"A vision?" he repeated before she spun in her seat to face him.

"What did Necela say to you last night?!" she demanded, her voice raised at him for the first time.

Caught completely off guard by her outburst, he tried to speak but could only utter out, "Wha- Celia?"

"Are you heading out into the woods to kill someone? Or a group of someones?" she asked, tears building in her eyes.

Raising his hands defensively, Galen nervously explained, "Necela asked me to be a warrior for her. She wants me to find a group of people, some band of monsters that have done terrible sins and brought the destruction of many, many lives. And there was also something about them being 'the reason the Tree Elves were four numbers short."

At those final words, the Elf's face went blank. Her breathing suddenly became unsteady as a terrified shiver racked her body. At first, she was about to scream at him to not follow through with this mission. To turn his back on a task that he would die trying to accomplish.

But then she remembered his weapon. That enchanted, and loud, forging of metal and wood that spat destruction at anything he pointed it at. How with it he had felled a troll faster than one could say a prayer by himself.

If anyone could end them, he can, she thought.

"Then... we will go. I hate death, Galen. I hate seeing it, I hate that it must happen. But for your task... for them... I can... I will make an exception."

"Celia?" Galen muttered, astonished by the words he was hearing. She gave a weak smile, but then turned back to finish destemming her berries.

If both a goddess and a Tree Elf want them dead, they must be some motherfuckers, he thought, glancing over to his rifle against the wall by the door.

Sighing and shaking his head, he stood up from the bed and began to put on his gear. First pulling his jacket on and doing up the buttons, then donning his combat webbing and helmet. When he was kitted up, he went over to Petra and placed a hand on her shoulder to gently shake her awake.

"Hey, Petra, wake up. It's morning," he said in Nekonian, jumping back a bit as her claws slowly inched out from her fingers.

At first she stretched out her arms with a frown and a groan as her tail twisted like a corkscrew. Then she rolled over onto her belly, reaching out with her clawed hands out in front of her. Her knuckles and spine cracked and she pressed her chest to the floor while lifting her ass up high to stretch. There were a few pops in her various other joints as she flexed her back muscles, the loosened feeling sinking into her body to make her purr.

Then, as though she sensed his presence behind her, her head quickly turned to look back at Galen. It was then they both realized her cloth-wrapped bottom was just a few inches away from the growing bulge in his crotch. Her tail went from sticking straight up to falling limp over her back. With drooping ears, she hung her head down but didn't lower her hips.

Almost as if she had an expectation from a situation like this.

"Ahem- If you're, uhh, done stretching, Celia's gettin' a mornin' meal ready," he stated, backing off a bit and taking a seat at the table.

Petra's head snapped toward him with a cross look on her face. How could a male resist such temptation? A female presenting herself in such a fashion, yet he held back the urge to use her? Had she done this with her own kind, or Teirie, she would have either a face or phallus plunging into her sex at this moment.

Granted, if she wasn't in the mood herself then she could, and would, have ended their life in an instant. But she wasn't permitted to say no to him, so what barred him from doing so? The unexpected result of the situation gave her a bit of a stutter as she replied, "Yes, I see. Thank you."

The Shadow Stalker stood and watched as Celia rolled the three separate portions up into their own broad, green tree leaves. Using fluid squeezed out of some sort of plant stem for adhesive to keep the wraps shut, she shook and mashed them down so their contents could mix inside. When she was done, she handed the meals out and took a bite out of hers.

Staring quizzically at the green burrito Celia handed to him, Galen pondered the mix of fruits, roots, and plant parts inside while giving it a sniff. The seemed to quite happily devour this mishmash though Petra seemed to be just as intrigued about it as he was. Shrugging as though to say "screw it," he took a bite. His eyebrows rose up in surprise and he gave a hum of approval at the rather pleasant, if a little sweet, taste.

"No meats? Or deer milk?" Petra asked, turning her nose up as she watched him indulge.

Galen cocked an eyebrow at the Neko, but then looked to Celia as she shook her head. "The diced roots inside are what we elves use. They are a perfect substitute for meat, while the leaf it is all wrapped in has the same taste as fresh milk. No animals harmed."

"It's food," the Private stated, already finishing up. He wolfed down his last few bites and took a moment to fully swallow before he looked to the picky Neko, "So just eat it, and be ready to go when I get back."

The tone he used with the blunt order made the Shadow Stalker narrow her eyes. Had she been in her own village, on her own terms, his jugular would've been slashed or his tongue ripped out and shoved back down his throat for speaking to her in such a manner. But she had to hold back now. The collar on her neck tightened ever so slightly to remind her that she was his possession, and there was not a single thing she could do.

.....................

The morning light shone over the horizon to hint that the sun would soon come creeping up over the trees. Not wanting to waste too much time, Galen jogged through the bush and into the clearing around the Willher village. He crossed the open ground and passed a friendly greeting to the gate guards as they parted ways to let him go by.

With most of the Willhers still asleep, the street was empty and the houses were silent. The only living creatures present were a few warrior types patrolling around and a man wearing one-legged, olive-drab pants standing a ways up the street. As he approached Michael, Galen saw that he was sipping a steaming beverage from his canteen cup with a rather pleased look. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and the Private could see his back was both recently washed, and sporting several fresh claw marks that dug deep into his tanned skin.

"Michael," Galen called out as he stopped jogging and walked the last few feet.

The Sergeant didn't turn to him or acknowledge his name being called. He just took another sip and smacked his lips while breathing in deep. "Beautiful place, isn't it?"

"Yeah... yeah, it is," the Private agreed, coming to a stop beside him. "Better than watching the sun come up over an airbase or an artillery battery."

"Got that right," Michael muttered, staring at his mug. "Think they got coffee plants here? Or sugar cane?"

Quirking his mouth, Galen shrugged. "Probably not."

"Then I got to make this stuff last," he grumbled before gulping down the last of his cup.

The two soldiers stood in silence and watched the first sliver of that burning orb edge over the treetops and cast its orange glow across the sky. A bird began to sing, a breeze kicked up over the forest canopy. Somewhere nearby, a Willher was waking up as a wood shack began to creak.

"So you're headed to Redding?" Michael finally asked, and Galen nodded.

"Yeah. I'm here in this world, may as well explore it. Besides, there might be some wizard or other god out there that these people worship who might be able to send me back home. Who knows how powerful the magic gets here."

The Sergeant's brow arched down as he slowly breathed out through his nose, "Honestly, Galen, had I not seen the shit you did to my leg last night, I'd call you nuts and slap you in a strait jacket for talking like that."

Can't argue with that... the Private thought.

"But if you do get back Stateside somehow, don't go preaching about this place or all the crazy shit that goes on here. I'd rather keep this world a secret, because if America wants it, then the Russians will, too. Last thing I want to see is these people getting caught in the crossfire of a war way beyond their time."

Galen waved his hand dismissively, "Don't worry about it. I'd probably just send a letter home or somethin' an' come right back... But listen, somethin' has come up," he said, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.

"What, you can piss fireballs now?"

"Nah, nothin' like that," the Private chuckled before his face grew serious. "Listen, I got word that there might be a couple-a evil pricks pokin' around the forest. I got asked to put 'em down."

Now it was Michael's turn to take a serious stance with a stiff upper lip. "You need help?"

The Private shook his head. "No, just givin' you a heads up to ignore my shots. I also want to pull some stuff from the stash, if you don' mind."

"Not at all. I got Mila's directions to Redding written down for you," he said, fishing into one of his pockets to pull out a slip of paper. "Thought I'd save you the trouble and let her get her rest."

Galen took the paper with a grin. "Thanks, Michael. I hope we see each other again."

"You ain't leaving yet, so save the sap for when you're out the door!" he ordered, holding back an amused grin as he shoved Galen into the tent.

The Private nearly stumbled over himself on the way in, chuckling a bit and shaking his head as he lifted a glowing hand to cast a dim light in the pitch-black of the shelter. Mila was still asleep, with the parachute pulled over her like a blanket and using Michael's jacket as a pillow. A steamy smell lingered around her and there was a pleasured grin clinging to her face.

Way to go Michael, Galen thought as he slowly tiptoed around her and over to the weapons crate. He opened it up and the first thing he retrieved was the scoped M14 that had belonged to his squad's marksman. After pulling a pin and unthreading a screw, he popped the scope and mount off the rifle and slid them into his pocket before returning the weapon itself.

He thought for a moment about taking one of the pistols for Celia, though he knew she would never be able to control the hand cannon, or be willing to use it. Petra might be able to, but he wasn't sure if she'd "accidentally" use it on him. Then again, if she planned on killing him she would've done so last night when he was sleeping.