Sarge

Erwer, Urim 17, 0293

I closed my eyes and sighed. I had had to wait until ten in the dark for this, but finally I had the entire showerhall to myself. I sighed as the water coursed over my fur and the heat sank into my skin. Sixteen weeks of sheer pain and suffering were over, and come the first light of dawn I would no longer be 'a recruit' and could go right in PAS school; first thing, though, was to wash those weeks away.

Not that I thought that would ever happen, really. Boot camp had left its indelible mark upon me. Yesterday I had done ten (TEN!) chin-ups; when I had first come into camp I had been unable to do even one. Both of my tentacles were completely muscled. As I caressed my fur and ran one mitten down the length of the other ten I could feel the muscles underneath, like steel bands wrapped around bone. And I liked the way I looked, now, with my thighs firm and my shoulders broadened. I wondered what Mom would say.

I grabbed the bottle of soap and began stroking it into the fur at my shoulders, they way I always started. The heat and water from the shower were seductive, and I realized just how tired I was. Worse yet, I realized, dawn was less than five hours away and if I'd just waited that five hours I could have gone home and taken a shower by myself back at home. I've got to admit, though, I did take perverse pleasure in finally having the barrack's echoing showerstall all to my selfish little self.

I worked my way down, being very functional as I did so. My nipples, however, tend to vary in their sensitivities with my cycles, and today they were particularly sensitive, making me painfully aware that I hadn't masturbated (or had sex with someone, for that matter) in the past hundred days or so.

I caressed my breasts slowly, lifting them slightly from underneath, relieving myself if only for a moment of constantly fighting centrifugy to keep them up, and stroked the undersides gently as I did so. It felt so good that I just sighed and sagged back against the cool tiles of the shower.

I slid my mitts down further, towards my hips and crotch, and as I did so I slowed down; I wanted this self-pleasuring to last as long as it could; the way I felt I knew the moment I touched my clit I was going to come.

"Shardik?"

Dammit! Damn damn damn damn damn damn damn... I sighed and took my hands away from their intended destination, stepping back into the flow of water to rinse off what little soap I had managed to distribute. "Here, sir." What is she doing up so late?

"At ease, Shardik. Where are you? I can't see a thing through all this steam."

I smiled; I was also behind the curving privacy barricades of brick-red tile so that she couldn't have seen me anyway. "I appreciate the heat, sir. I'm back here, behind the left shield."

Sergeant K'Perea appeared through the thick steam, two identical curls of vapor forming behind her. She always appeared to be moving at double-time; I don't think I'd ever see her take a 'leisurely' walk.

I've had a crush on Perry since I first met her; don't ask me why, she is most certainly not my type. But I've been told it's common for someone to become attached to their Drill Sergeant, and that is what Perry is to me. A Felinzi built beyond all measure of specifications, Perry is the definition of 'bulk.' I've only ever seen her arms bare, and those are thick, muscled branches that no amount of fur could ever obscure. Her body is broad to the point of being a wall; her legs, even through the combat uniform, are obviously huge and strong. She can run for hours without getting tired.

On the other hand, she has an incredibly attractive fur pattern. Solid black, except for a white spot right above her nose, and then from between her eyes to almost the top of her head is another needle-shaped shaft of white. Her hands are also white, extending up into the wrist, but the left one has some black streaks that create a white patch in the shape of a trefoil. Her whiskers, too, are white, and incredibly long; the result, I've heard, of her brother cutting them off when she was three. They grew back with a vengeance.

She seemed to smile as she watched me appraise her, then said "What keeps you up so late?"

Didn't I just wonder that about her? "Taking a shower, sir."

"By yourself."

"Yes, sir."

She sighed. "I came looking for you, Shardik, because as I filled out my final review of you and the rest of your class, I realized I require a statement from you, on the record."

"Sir?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Let me preface this. You listed your family name as Shardik, and Shardik himself calls you his daughter. Very well. For the record, P'raine Shardik, have I ever, in any way, over the past four months treated you with anything less than fairness and professionalism?"

I almost laughed; that was the second time this day someone had asked me that question, and Dad had asked it much earlier on, when I had been allowed a call home. "For the record, sir, you have been nothing but fair, professional, and even-handed with me. You have never shown me undue privilege or harshness."

"Thank you." She was quiet for along time, and so was I, as if I was waiting for something she was unsure how to express.

So I spoke up. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask why?"

"Both Joshua and I agreed that my behavior during your assignment here seemed nothing less than exemplary, which surprised even me. I wanted to make sure that you got the same opinion I did, and that neither I nor Josh would found ourselves surprised by statements you make later."

"Why is that so important to you?"

"Because I like to think I can maintain my professional edge, even when I've been smitten." She smiled awkwardly.

"Sir?"

Her fur was matting down from the steam alone, and her uniform must have been getting soaked. "Let's just say that I haven't had a good self-destructive urge in a long time, but I find myself fascinated by you. I shouldn't have an interest in you, a recruit, but I do. At first I wanted to know why someone from your family would become a PA Scout, but the more I watched you the more I realized that you, by yourself, fascinated me." That was a long speech for her.

I blinked, thinking for a moment. The only coherent thing I could think to say was "That's a fair thing to admit."

"I should have my role as training officer reassessed for even thinking, much less admitting to, my infatuation."

I blinked again. "Fascination." "Infatuation." Perry was the last woman in the world I would have ever thought to hear those word from, but they were the exact same words I would have used to describe my feelings towards her. Of course, in my case it may just have been Stockholm Syndrome, maybe not. All I knew was that now that her authority over me was over, I still craved her affection.

"Sir... I've been told it's not unusual for a recruit to fall for their drill instructor, but the other way around?"

She wiped the beads of water that were collecting above her violet, slitted eyes. There was a small tug on one corner of her muzzle, a half-smile brewing. "Call it an impulse."

I decided it was time for an impulse of my own. I leaned over and said "Can I call you Perry if you call me Rainy?"

"I can do that. So can you."

"Then can you kiss me? On impulse?"

I had meant that comment as a way of encouraging, of being the one giving the hints. She had other ideas. With a slight move she stood up on her toes and when her muzzle met my lips she suddenly pushed against me with so much force I was afraid of a concussion when my head hit the wall of the shower, but just as fast her paw was at the back of my head, catching me and buffering the impact. Her tongue was in my mouth before I could register it passing my lips; I recovered my wits just long enough to put my mitts around her waist. We stood there, kissing each other with abandon, under the running water of my showerhead.

She backed off, the look on her face between guilt and fear. "Did I just..."

"Uh-huh," I replied. "And you got your uniform soaked."

"Should I take it off?"

I nodded. I think I bounced my head a little too rapidly, because she laughed as she stripped off her clothing.

I had often wondered what the rest of her looked like. As she shucked her shirt and pants and threw them aside (the landed with a wet plop, soaked completely through), I watched her hard and muscular body reveal itself. There was so little fat on her body that her breasts seemed to be vanishing against her ribcage.

Too much of my mother struck me then, because I know that's not healthy. I worried that if she were ever in extended combat, she would run out of body sugars fast and faint.

There was something about all this that I found unappealing, because it seemed so, well, unfeminine, but on the other hand the amount of obvious effort she put into getting her body into it's current shape earned her my complete respect, and that, for some weird reason, turned me on. I found my hands roaming over her chest, playing with her nipples, feeling her hard abdominals, as she pitched free the last of her clothing.

She turned and smiled, pushing me up against the tiles again before kneeling before me, parting my cunt with her paws and sliding her muzzle deep between my lips.

Gods! she was fast, and her speed made me hot, her tongue digging deep into me, really deep-- she had a long tongue, sliding up deep enough into me that she could stroke the roof of my vagina with it, and have enough left over to press against my clit. Or was that her muzzle? I couldn't tell, and I didn't care. The water ran down my fur in little rivulets, and it was all I could do to just stay standing as her tongue pushed further against my cunt, my mittens wrapped around her head and holding onto her ears as she ate me. Sometimes she would pull back, just enough to get me to whimper and beg, and then she would thrust again, sometimes pressing her tongue against my asshole, which is a really sensitive spot for me.

"Oh, Perry..." I whispered. I doubt if she heard me. All I know is that she was just so good at it, her paws around my hips and kneading my butt in that hot shower, full of steam. "Oh, yes," I remember saying louder, then arching my back as my body tensed and I came, shouting loud enough I was sure I woke up my fellow barrackmates.

Perry stood up and held me to her, a small chuckle coming from her. "That was sweet," she said.

"Thank you," I gasped, leaning my head against her shoulder. As I did so, I slowly lowered myself down until we had switched positions. Now I was the one staring at her cunny, and I leaned in to kiss her gently. She gave a high-pitched "ooh!" as I did so, and reached down to hold herself open. I knelt back in the shower and watched as she tugged on her own labia, holding her lips apart and exposing her beautifully white clitoris to me. I leaned in and began licking on her gently, and her whole body went into convulsions.

I wrapped my tens around her thighs and played with her ass and her hole from that side, but every time I licked her clitoris she would give a little "Yip!" of pleasure and shake so violently I had to follow along with the motions to keep up with her. She was coming with every 'yip,' I suddenly realized. Almost every little stroke of my tongue across her clit made her come, and I wrapped my now-muscular tens around thighs and dug in, determined to make this little encounter well worth our while. She struggled, sometimes holding my head tight between her legs, sometimes trying to push me away (but not too forcefully) and I felt like I was melding to her, our bodies becoming one in our pleasure.

Finally she said "Stop it, please!" and I backed away again, looking up at her, blinking against the soft spray of water bouncing off of her matted fur.

"You're good at that," she hissed, sitting down slowly and joining me on the floor of the shower, just a little off the side from the stream of water.

"Thanks." I stared at her hard and heavy body as she sagged against the wall. Just the idea of sleeping next to her excited me... and now I was going to get the chance.

She cocked her head a little to the side and said, "So, what are you doing tomorrow?"

"Good question," I responded. "I had meant to go home and visit my parents."

"Got a place of your own?"

"Yeah... little house at Tarnagoth."

"Can I see it?"

I smiled. Dad always said "All good things come to she who waits... and waits... and waits." "You can at dawn. You have leave?"

"No assignments for three months. And I know you have to wait for an opening at your school of choice. I assume you still went with PAS?"

I nodded. She pouted; I thought that was cute. "That school has openings all the time. Still, let me cook you dinner tomorrow?"

"It's a deal!" I replied, leaning over to kiss her. "You are one daring woman."

"I'll take that as a compliment," she replied, smiling.

Sarge
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is copyright © November 12, 1993 Elf Mathieu Sternberg and is available under a Creative Commons License.