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Hellhounds: Pleasure (Part 1)

Once we finished with our mission, we always returned to our safe house stationed at the peak of a hill overlooking a deserted village. The safe house wasn't too complex, and carried all the bare necessities mercenaries like us needed. It was a square building with four rooms for all of us to sleep in, and the main reception area/kitchen, as well as one bathroom and an outhouse outside. Oh yeah, there was also the weapons vault, a building right next to the safe house that housed all of our munitions. There was nothing inside the reception quarters short of a couch and two chairs and a television set. Right behind the reception area was the kitchen, which only had some rations stored in the cabinets, a fridge and microwave, and an oven that should've been replaced years ago. Our rooms only had two bunk beds in them for us (and occasionally allied soldiers) to sleep in, not that we got much sleep in the first place. The colonel's room was more luxurious and larger than ours-we'd complain about how he was living the good life and yet we still had to sleep in beds that could break down at any moment. But...he usually found a way to shut us up. Anyway, after retrieving the package and handing it off to the guy in charge of our team, we headed back to the safe house for a little R&R. I rarely saw the colonel relaxing though. Over half the time, he was in his room with the door locked talking to our handler for another job with another client. We stored some of our rifles into the munitions building and headed into the safe house.

"Ah, the safety of the safe house." said Denton, relieved he could finally have some time to relax.

"Technically speaking, this isn't really a safe house. They just added the word 'safe' in front of it to make us feel more secure." said Smart-ass.

"You can never let us have any fun, can you?"

"Of course not! Because then I wouldn't be able to have any fun." said Smart-ass with a grin.

"CAN IT! You pups can either spend time whining at each other, or you can shut the fuck up for once and go to sleep before our next job. Pick one!" snarled Riesling.

"I'm okay with whining."

"I'm gonna catch a few Zs." said Fenrir.

"Yeah, me too. Kick open our door and roar at us to wake up like you usually do when we have to leave again will ya?" said Jakob.

"You know I will." said the colonel.

Fenrir and Jakob walked into their sleeping quarters and shut the door before they hopped into their bunk beds and quickly fell asleep.

"I'm gonna take a piss out back."

"Alright. What about you three?" asked the colonel.

"We'll figure out something colonel."

"Just don't bother me. I'm gonna make a few calls to our handler."

"Damn colonel, another job? We just got back from one-"

"I know Smart-ass! But you pups should have no problem doing one more, right?"

The colonel retreated to his personal room and locked his door, while Denton headed out back so he could pee. That just left Zepher, Smart-ass and I, who couldn't figure out what to do just yet. Zepher, like always, said nothing and sat down on the couch to relax.

"Bastard's gonna tire us all to death." murmured Smart-ass.

"Hey, think of it this way, at least we're making a shitload of cash."

"Yeah, and we're still fuckin' mercenaries, which means the only thing we can spend it on right now are more supplies to help us in combat! I really don't give a shit if my rifle has a grenade launcher attachment to it! I wanna spend my money on shit I can actually use, like a Lotus!"

"Okay, how is a sports car better than a grenade launcher?"

Smart-ass scoffed. "Because no one gives a shit if you can blow up something with your rifle. Of course, if you head over to Delfar City, you know, just rolling your way down the road, having all the pedestrians eye-humping your automobile,"

Smart-ass chuckled. "You get what I'm sayin'."

"Yeah, and a grenade launcher attachment can obliterate your flashy Lotus in half a second, not to mention it's cheaper."

"I expected you to say something like that. This war's gone to your head, and you probably can't enjoy yourself anymore even if you wanted to. Unless you consider masturbating in the outhouse enjoyment, in which case you're covered."

"Smart-ass, everyone on this team masturbates in the fuckin' outhouse, even you and the colonel."

"The point is I don't see the point in doing this mercenary shit anymore if we're not gonna spend the money on anything we can enjoy!"

I shrugged. "Well, it's all for the greater good, at least that's what they say."

"Yeah, I didn't know that the 'greater good' was trekking through a city with a mass grave full of decaying corpses of those who were slaughtered during the Genocide Wars."

"...It'll change soon, Smart-ass, I know it will."

"Is that why you sound reluctant?"

I sighed and shut my eyes, unable to answer the werewolf. Truth of it was, I did sound reluctant, and at that point I was beginning to wonder if what we were doing helped anybody anywhere, or if we were just fueling someone's bloodlust. Smart-ass was going to say something, but Zepher seemed to butt in unintentionally. As he was sitting down on the couch, he grunted as he started to take off his right boot, and eventually slid the footwear right off his footpaw. He sighed and started to wiggle his toes before Smart-ass sniffed the air and groaned, plugging his nose.

"Goddamnit Zepher, I told you not to take off your boots whenever I'm within ten feet of you!"

"It's just foot odor, Smart-ass. I don't see what the big deal is."

"It stinks! His feet always remind me of Limburger cheese, and I can't stand that smell!"

Zepher grunted again and took off his other boot, instantly doubling the stench inside the safe house. Smart-ass gagged.

"Oh God, he took off the other one."

"You're okay with blood and brain fragments being splattered all over your face and you don't even retch when you smell a dead body, but you can't tolerate stinky feet?"

"I-I had a bad experience when I was a pup-I don't wanna talk about it."

Smart-ass gagged again and headed for the door. "I'm gonna get some air. I'll come back in when Stink-Foot puts his boots back on!"

"Okay."

Smart-ass swung the door open and stepped outside so he could exhale and get some air, leaving Zepher and I alone in the reception. I looked at the burly, quiet werewolf and saw him pick up his right boot and stare at it for a few seconds. Then he placed the boot up to his head and stuffed his muzzle inside of it. He closed his eyes and took a deep whiff, taking in the stench of his cheesy boots with glee. He sighed to himself before taking another long, audible whiff of the inside of his right boot and sighing again. I heard Zepher mutter something to himself, and he shut his eyes again before taking another sniff. Zepher didn't need to tell anyone on the team he had a foot fetish. It was pretty evident the first day I met him. We were all about to go to sleep and right when I took off my boots and was about to go lay down, I noticed Zepher wouldn't stop staring at my footpaws. He didn't say anything at all. He just...stared at them, and blinked twice. I didn't mind his preferences, considering I have quite a few of my own. To be honest, I grew a liking to his smelly feet, and he noticed it as well. Since there was nothing else to do inside the safe house but sleep, I slowly walked over to Zepher, who was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, leaning forward so he could take a few whiffs of his stinky toes. I sat down in front of him and watched as he continued to sniff and smile as he did so. Even I had to admit that doing something as simple as sniffing ones toes was enjoyable. I don't know why; guess it has to do with the corn chip smell. After Zepher took one huge whiff and leaned backwards against the couch, I decided to take a whiff of his feet on my own, dabbing my muzzle against his soles. Zepher opened his eyes and looked down at me, chuckling and wiggling his toes.

"I see I'm not the only one who likes the smell of my footpaws."

"C'mon Zepher, you know how I am. I've grown accustomed to the odor of sweaty socks when I was young. Your feet don't smell any different."

"Heh. I suppose not."

Zepher grabbed his left boot and put it up to his face before he stuck his muzzle inside of that one too and proceeded to take a huge whiff. It was hard for me not to say that the werewolf wasn't obsessed with feet. The way he inhaled the odor of his boots made me wonder if he sat around in the safe house getting high from the stench. It was better than doing a line of coke though, so I never bothered asking if he really did get high from it.

"Why don't you take off your own boots, Donnie? I'm sure your feet could use some air, and I bet they stink just as bad as mine."

I looked left and right to make sure no one else was watching us, and then I grinned and started to untie my boots. Once I slipped them off, the odor inside the safe house double instantly, and I sighed contently after taking a couple of whiffs of the air. My feet were sweatier than Zepher's and didn't smell as cheesy, but someone who didn't like the smell of feet would've told me to put my boots back on. Zepher took a long whiff of the air as well until his chest puffed out and exhaled very calmly, being as poise as he could possibly be. Zepher intrigued me at the time. He was always so aggressive and merciless in the battlefield, yet whenever we were back at the safe house relaxing, he was the only one who truly seemed relaxed and in his own little meditative state. And on top of that, he never really spoke to anyone except for myself. My curiosity got the best of me, and I wound up asking him about it.

"Why is it that you seem so quiet all of the time?"

Zepher stopped sniffing his feet. "Hmm?"

"I'm just wondering. I know you talk, but it's like some furries barely even notice you. Mind explaining that to me?"

"Later. Let's have a little fun first before we head out on another mission. I'm sure you're just dying to grow more accustomed to my footpaws, aren't you?"

I looked down at Zepher's feet and saw him wiggle his toes again before grinning widely. I couldn't lie to Zepher; that was part of the reason why I was speaking to him in the first place. I grabbed his right footpaw and slowly lifted it up into the air before I pressed my moist nostrils against his sweaty, furry sole. I sniffed it a few times and murred softly as the cheesy smell crept into my olfaction and began to stimulate me. I exhaled onto his foot before opening my mouth and licking it from his heel up to his toes. He giggled and reached for one of my boots, which he promptly used to shove into his muzzle so he could take a few whiffs. His footpaw was so warm and moist, and it didn't even taste all that bad to me. I licked it again, practically drooling as I did so and spreading saliva all over the sole. After murring a second time I worked my way up to his toes and pressed my nose right against them. His toes and the gaps in-between them were what stank the most on his feet-all the gunk and the scent glands were located up there. It was such a heavenly odor, almost as good as musk (although the colonel was the musky one in the group). I couldn't stop sniffing them, and was murring so much I didn't even realize a small trail of drool dripped down my chin. Zepher teased me a little and wiggled his toes in my face, and I promptly opened my mouth and licked all of them from side to side. He giggled as my tongue tickled him and dropped my boot so he could pick up the other one and take several whiffs of that as well. We were both having so much fun with ourselves, although judging by the bulge I was getting in my pants I was enjoying myself more than Zepher. I sniffed and sniffed and sniffed some more, panting and exhaling onto his sole, licking it constantly and moistening the sweaty, clammy footpaw with my slobber. I was caught up in the moment so much that I failed to notice he had another large, stinky footpaw right next to his right one. I stopped licking and looked down at his other foot...actually, both of them. He had very large feet, and they were so comfortable to squeeze. I could see why Zepher had a foot fetish in the first place. It wasn't just the smell that got to me, but just gazing upon such big, hairy, sweaty soles...it's just something that I got off to. Granted the stink did play a key role when it came to me and feet, but still, it's hard for me to ignore a fat pair of soft, luscious feet placed in front of my face.

I let go of his right foot and quickly snatched up the left one so I could give that a nice sniff as well. Unfortunately, his left foot didn't smell as cheesy as the former, but it was very soft and sweaty. After I sniffed it twice, I grabbed the footpaw with both of my own paws and started to massage them, pressing my fingers into his meaty soles. Zepher murred a little and sighed with glee as I rubbed his moist foot for him. I could tell he hadn't had a decent foot rub in a long time, so I decided to help him out a bit. I took off my left paw and began to massage his other foot as well, watching as the werewolf giggled and murred. He wiggled his toes constantly and put down my boot before grabbing the other boot and stuffing his muzzle inside of it. He was still taking calm, long breaths and remaining poised, unlike me, who was having trouble controlling my urges. I felt the bulge in my jeans getting longer and harder as I tended to Zepher's footpaws, and I was only minutes away from zipping down my pants and masturbating in front of the mercenary. But I wasn't quite there yet. After I massaged the werewolf's putrid footpaws for a couple of minutes I grabbed his left one yet again and lifted it up to my muzzle. I took a few strong sniffs of the musky, rancid odor before I opened my mouth again and started to lick his toes from side to side, inadvertently collecting some of the gunk he had in-between them. I wasn't sure what it was, and probably made a mistake by swallowing it instead of spitting it back out, but it didn't seem to harm me physically later on. Once his toes were moist, I began to drool again and dragged my watery lingua all the way down to his heel as slowly as possible, absorbing the salty, bitter taste of his footpaw. I was so horny then that my erection was beginning to hurt. I didn't wait any longer, and I unzipped my jeans with one paw and dropped Zepher's other one. Panting, I pulled down my trousers just enough for my shaft to come out. It was pointed at an upward angle, leaning over to a certain degree so it was aimed at the wall and not the ceiling. I took one final whiff of the malodorous, humid stench of feet as it lingered in the air before I grabbed my cock and started masturbating in front of Zepher.

Lucky for me, Zepher beat me to it. He stopped sniffing my boot, grabbed one of his own, shoved my muzzle inside of it until I slammed my head against the floor, and grabbed my penis with his other paw. He started pawing me off, vigorously rubbing his paw up and down my shaft, making me moan and murr with ecstasy. I couldn't see much of anything except the ceiling and Zepher's black boot as it covered my face, but I felt his paw and knew exactly what the kinky Lycan was doing to me. He leaned forward so he was looking down at my face and grinned leeringly before he started to paw me off even faster now, moving his paw up and down so fast I could hear the faint thwacking sound it was emitting. I started panting hastily, taking dozens of whiffs of Zepher's stinky boot and substituting the funky, musty air for oxygen. I was huffing so fast I could barely breathe, and it sounded like I was wearing a gasmask. I muttered something and grunted, trying to get the hairy beast off of me, but he didn't budge. That's when I finally felt a little bit of pre oozing its way out of the glans, spilling over and rolling down my shaft very slowly. Zepher stopped moving his paw so quickly now, and opened it up so he could give my red, throbbing cock a firm squeeze, which made me yelp. I started moaning even louder now, the noises muffled by the boot over my muzzle. Zepher had an excruciatingly tight grip on my dick now, and was moving his paw up and down so briskly I thought he was trying to tear my dick right off. I could feel more precum dripping down my shaft, and knew that I was going to cum sooner or later. I didn't stop inhaling Zepher's boot; I wanted to get lost in the stench, pass out with the smell of his feet locked into my olfactory system. I was growing a bit woozy, but still horny from the smell and Zepher pawing me off. He slowed his pawing down again and gently moved his thick paw up and down, and that was when I noticed how soft it was, how furry, yet blissful it felt. It was like he was taking all the stress in my life away and telling my subconscious that everything's gonna be okay, that I shouldn't worry about anything anymore. It was like he was saying, "Sure, maybe the planet is turning to shit, but you can still find happiness and moments of peace if you look hard enough." I tell ya, whatever message he was trying to send got to me. As he slowly massaged my cock with his paw, I closed my eyes and murred, almost passing out immediately with a smile on my face. I was rarely ever calm when I was with the squadron fighting in the war. Even when I slept, my dreams were very bizarre or haunted me, foreshadowing the end of the world, or just something terrible in general. Zepher could tell I was relaxed too, and pawed me off gently for a minute. Unfortunately, once those 60 seconds were up, Zepher went back to pawing me off as quickly as possible, and I came back to reality. His paw and my shaft were covered in my precum, and I started huffing and moaning ecstatically and vocally once more. Zepher moved his paw up and down several times in under two seconds, and my eyes grew wide as I swore loudly. Zepher felt something being squirted onto his uniform and looked down to see a few streams of semen shooting up into the air and staining his outfit, leaving large white blotches on his shirt. The Lycan let go of my cock and moved backwards so he was sitting against the couch. I exhaled and started breathing moderately before I took his boot off my muzzle and sat up, gazing down at my penis as it became flaccid. I sighed and pulled my pants back up, chuckling as I looked at Zepher's uniform. Believe it or not but just about everyone on our team fucked each other at some point. It wasn't that all of us were gay (well, I am, and I'm pretty damn sure Fenrir was too) but when you're fighting in a war for months, maybe even years at a time, it gets very, very lonely. Quite frankly, masturbating while everyone is asleep doesn't cut it for us, so we resorted to fucking each other when the mood struck. No one ever teased or made fun of another for who we fucked (except for Smart-ass) since all seven of us were lonely, and had no one to love. The colonel didn't care either, as long as we didn't go around bragging to everyone about it day in and day out.

"Goddamn Zepher, we need to do that more often." I panted.

"Don't you want to know?"

"Know what?" In the heat of the moment, I completely forgot the question I asked Zepher before the stinky foot fetish session began.

"Why I don't talk to any of the other Hellhounds."

"Oh, right. ...Why is that Zepher?"

"It's simple, Donnie: if you talk less, you tend to hear more. Better yet, you tend to learn more, become smarter as time progresses. That's why I know so much about all of you, and why none of you know anything about me."

"What does that mean?"

Zepher scoffed and grinned evilly at me. "We're all guilty, you know. All of us Hellhounds have done something unforgivable in the past, something that we can't atone for."

I shrugged. "We're soldiers. We've all done bad deeds-we go around killing soldiers just because they're not the same species we are. I'm sure if I dig deep enough-"

"What could you possibly think I'm talking about? You think I'm referring to how Jakob spends his free-time committing bestiality, raping any wild, feral animal he can get his claws on? You think I'm referring to Colonel Riesling, the werewolf who decapitated two cubs right in front of their parents before he doused them in gasoline and burned them alive? You think I'm referring to Fenrir, the Lycan who vivisected a whole clan of T-rexes just so he could harvest their organs for food? Or perhaps I'm talking about Smart-ass, the furry who stalked dozens of mares before raping them and shooting them all in the back of the head?"

"...What?"

"And let's not forget how your father molested you when you were thirteen. Oh wait, was it even molestation? I hear you wanted your father to do that to you. I hear you begged your father to-"

"How the fuck would you know any of that?"

Zepher giggled. "I told you, the less you talk, the more you listen, and the more you learn. I know a lot more than you all think. I know you all think that Smart-ass is the brains of the group, and he is. But just because he's the only one who knows what centrifugal force is without looking inside a Physics textbook doesn't mean I don't know about all of your...secrets."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

Zepher shrugged. "Just a fair warning, that's all. There's something that all seven of us have done, and no matter what we do or how hard we try, we can't make up for it. There's something we're all guilty of-something unforgivable."

"But if it's unforgivable, then what's the point in knowing about it?"

"Because by knowing, then maybe you'll be able to stop yourself from repeating it again in the future. I already know what I'm guilty of, and quite frankly I don't see myself changing anytime soon. Even though I can't control it, just knowing about it is one step closer to stopping it...that is, if I want it to stop. The reason why I told you is because you strike me as the one who will figure out what he's guilty of first, and therefore will try to stop yourself from making it worse."

"So...there's some cruel and unforgivable that we've all done and, what, we're supposed to atone for it before we die?"

"Like I said, you'll figure it out...eventually."

"What about you huh? What are all of your dirty, dark secrets you don't want anyone to know about?"

"I seem to have an uncontrollable hunger to kill things, Donnie. When I was a pup I used to gather rabbits and would dissect them all, just so I could see what their insides looked like. I collected spiders and put them all in a jar just for the satisfaction of watching them all drown when I filled it with my urine. When I got older, I did bigger, merciless things, like overpowering small, feral animals and crushing them underneath my massive feet. I also seemed to go through a little...phase where I stalked a few furries before bashing their skulls in, or eviscerating them as I smiled and stared into their eyes before they finally passed away. The sound of their intestines splattering against the ground was just so blissful, so calming. To me that's...that's normal, Donnie. That's perfectly normal."

I just stared at Zepher, speechless and utterly disturbed by the werewolf. I knew that he was crazy, and a little twisted in the head-what soldier who had been fighting as long as him wouldn't be? But he actually got off to killing any sentient life form he could find, just because he thought it was "normal." I didn't understand how one could be so sadistic and yet so calm at the same time. I was beginning to grow wary of him, but at the same time, I grew wary of myself and the other Hellhounds. I kept wondering, if Zepher had secrets as dark as those, who knows what the other team members did before they joined the army?

"Should I be worried about you?"

"Be worried for all of us, Donnie. Including yourself. Sooner or later, karma bites you in the ass. That's all I'm gonna say at this point."

"...Are you gonna warn the other Hellhounds about this?"

"Nah, I'm sure they'll get it at some point. I'm pretty sure you won't tell them about this either."

"Why, because you think they won't believe me?"

"That and they're gonna wonder why your breath smells like feet."

"...Oh."

Zepher stood up and suddenly yawned while stretching out his arms. He scratched his back and started to head for one of the bedrooms.

"I'm gonna get some sleep now. No telling how long it'll be before the colonel wakes us up again."

As Zepher slammed the door shut, I sat and wondered if anyone on the team should be trusted, especially Zepher. More importantly, I could barely trust myself at that point. I kept thinking that it was all planned: the wars, the genocides, me joining the army, all seven of us being paired together. I thought some holy or unholy force put us all together so we could do something that would either save the planet, or blow it all to Hell. But like Zepher said, karma you in the ass. And something told me all seven of us were gonna feel that bite very soon.