Hell Hath No Fury

The Hellhound turned over and was on top of the strapping young man. He didn't move as she straddled his pelvis and walked her claws up his bare chest. Both Colonel and Sergeant were still sweating from their private discussion in the Quonset hut. It's windows completely fogged over.

“You're lying!”

“It is the truth.”

“Come clean or you'll be sorry.”

“Honestly my love, gen dit.”

She savored the the words and let out a blissful moan. Flamejante told him, “I've waited far too long to hear you call me that,” When she finished, her paws had reached his shoulders. They closed in around his neck and squeezed. “But you're not going to throw us off topic that easily. Tell. The. Truth.”

The Colonel wasn't afraid. He also knew better than to think she would choke him. He might not have had flames coming out from his blue eyes but they still gleamed with a burning passion. “My retainer is unquestionably loyal to me. She's also holding the book and keeping track of the bets, and no one thought that was suspicious?”

“That only proves she couldn't keep secret.”

“Just accept it.”

“No.”

“I started the game.”

“Shut up.”

“Did it to give you ladies motivation.”

The annoyed Hellhound let go of his throat and slid one paw to the back of his neck. She pulled him into a kiss that he was all too eager for. When they parted she looked at him with a raised eyebrow, challenging him to speak again. He could only grin as a reply. That was good enough for her. She leaned forward and let her breasts hang down, swaying them back and forth, and gently smacking against his face. Richard tried desperately to fondle them but Flamejante had bound his wrists together using his belt. And so the soft mounds of charcoal black flesh were out of his grasp, even as they dangled against his head.

“Let go of my wrists.”

“No.

“But...We have regs against torturing captives!” He pleaded.

His pitiful little outburst made her howl with laughter. She couldn't help it. Richard was always so proud. Always gave off an air of omniscience. But when they were together in the privacy of the Quonset hut, he acted less like a Colonel and more like a meek choir boy. Now both were her mate.

Once Flamejante was done reveling in triumph, she looked down directly into his eyes and said, “What were you planning to do when I let go?”

“Massage your bosom.”

“My what?” She asked. But Richard didn't respond right away. He looked hesitant so the Hellhound stopped grinding against his pelvis and lifted her D-cups up away from his face. “Say it right,” She told him. “Or we stop having fun for today.”

“I want to play with your mutts.”

She grinned, but wasn't quite ready to give him what he wanted. “What's that? I can't hear you.”

“I want to play with your mutts.” He repeated.

“You want to what with my what?”

“Your mutts! I want to pet and snuggle with your pups!” He shouted.

“Good boy.” She told him before leaning forward to get at his bindings. The paws made unbuckling the belt difficult so she had to get closer. Closer, until her body was pushing right against his. The CO was getting his face smothered as she continued to fidget with his belt. “Don't black out. I almost got it.”

As Richard lay there, rubbing his face against the soft and burning hot mounds of flesh, he wondered how she was having so much trouble when she tied his wrists to begin with. One of life's mysteries, he supposed.

"Ah there we go." She said. "Play with them to your hearts content."

He didn't need to be told twice. The Colonel relished the feeling as his fingers sank into the silky soft, burning hot flesh. But he was taken from this all consuming, all important task faster than the two lovers wanted.

*WOMP!*
*WOMP!*
*WOMP!*

The knocks on the hut's metal door came loud and hard. Richard let his head rest against the concrete floor with a light thud and a sigh.

"Two hours could not have passed so quickly..."

Flamejante corrected him, "A little over three." After looking up at the clock.

"Damn."