Chem-Chan Gets Knotted

It'd been a few weeks since the last battle, and as usual, the pickings-before the Administratum showed up to take everyone to the next battleground, anyway-were excellent.

Considering a pile of lasguns, Gretchen frowned. She knew damned well the things weren't worth their salt against pretty much every Daemon, but the Administratum would appreciate the work she'd gone to by piling them up to be easy to collect.

It seemed every time she was dispatched, just two of her regiment would survive-her, and the Ork. Which was fine by her-less to share, after all-but it meant that after the battles, there was little to no dicking to be had, and she'd run out of cells for her vibrator months ago.

Having salvaged the best from the pile of corpses, the Savlar girl slung the old Commissar's backpack over her shoulder, snickering. They'd actually thought he'd survive! And she'd gotten a boltpistol out of it, which wasn't to be sneered at. Back on Savlar, that'd have fetched a pretty bit. Here, for the next ten years, it was just a useful bit of weaponry more likely to kill a charging Spawn than not.

"C'mon, Miffgrod."

And with that, her Ork nodded and hopped up, grabbing his own backpack and dutifully following, with a quick "Right boss."

They'd been fighting alongside Kriegers, this time; and she had to admit, as she crested a hill they'd fought for weeks ago, the Death Korps of Krieg made a damned good bunker.

Within minutes, she'd opened the blast door with the dead Commissar's badge, and stepped inside, finding the only other survivor of their battle-a Kriegshünd. She'd liked its distinctive brown-and-black fur, and traded a few braces of grenades and a hellgun to the Kriegers in trade for it.

As she stood in the doorway, looking at the dog, an idea struck.

"Hey, Tiny?"
"Yes, Boss?"
"You remember that Chimera you wanted?"
"'Ow could I forget, Boss?"
"Go get it. 's all yours."
The Ork grinned, saluted, and charged off, laughing to himself. "Boss," on the other hand, grinned to herself and chuckled a bit.
"That oughta keep him busy a few hours...now...c'mere, boy."

The Kriegshünd had been sleeping in a ball in the corner underneath the space heater, and raised its head with a faint whine when his mistress addressed him before standing up and picking up a can of K-9 ration, bringing it over to her with another whine, waiting expectantly.

Gretchen looked down, before smiling and taking the can, walking back to a folding chair comfortably warm, much like the rest of the room, before unbuckling her belt. Sliding her pants down, muttering a little as they caught-the cheesecake ration was HERS, and damned if she wouldn't enjoy it-the Savlar girl stood in standard-issue white panties, before pulling them down too and sitting down.

The dog had followed her, confused. All he'd wanted was to be fed, after all-but-Oh, now she was opening it! The dog's mouth opened in a little grin, his tail wagging.

The Imperial Guard combat knife was nothing if not reliable and multipurpose. Stabbing enemies, cutting ropes, opening cans...with a flick, Chem-Chan threw the lid onto a nearby table, before dipping her fingers into the meaty broth inside and offering them to the dog, which began to lick hungrily, sucking her fingers a little.

With a little grin, Gretchen dipped her fingers into the can again, before drawing her fingers across her slit. With a whine, the dog looked up at her, before beginning to lick-

The Salvar girl sat back and gripped the back of her chair, letting out a groan of pleasure and eased tension. This, now, this was just what the medicae ordered...Sliding a hand down her body, spreading her folds with two fingers, she laid down another layer of ration, taking in a hissing breath that segued into another groan as the dog began to lick deeper, teasing her labia in an attempt to get every bit of the ration she'd so cleverly hidden away.

"Merciful fucking Emperor -yessss-..." Gretchen groaned, the dog's nose pressing against her clit, rough muzzle-fur scratching that most sensitive of areas. "Don't stop, dog, don't fucking stop...nnnf-"
She needn't have worried. Somewhere in the past minute, she'd...turned on, as it were, and the dog had begun licking just for the hell of it. A finger-gloved hand gripped the back of the Kriegshünd's head, scratching it determinedly behind the ear, rewarded with the sound of the dog's paw kicking against the floor. Arching her back, Gretchen pressed her hips up against the dog's muzzle, feeling something she hadn't felt in weeks rising. Eyes slitted, head back, mouth open, she laughed as she came, squirting enough to soak her loins, the dog's muzzle, and the tiny landing strip she kept for the hell of it.

Panting, eyes slitted, Gretchen felt herself come down slowly. That'd been one of the better orgasms she'd had-of course, considering she usually chose her paramours from the penal legions, which would die soon anyway, she wasn't too surprised.

Standing up, she found a bowl for the dog and gave him the rest of the food, smiling as he munched the lot down. From the desk in the corner, she retrieved a bottle of amasec and sat back, sipping now and then, enjoying the warmth of the bunker after a day out in the mud collecting the various discards of battle. Pulling a ration bar-labelled "MEAT"-from her vest, she sat back and chewed. Fat, bits of gristle, and some manufactured spices in a bit of edible tube-reminded her of the snacks back home, she thought with a grin. But as the last bit of glow faded, she looked back at the dog, thinking as he licked his chops, looking up at her and wagging.

"You're going to need a name, hound." Gretchen murmured, sliding off the desk into a kneel, beckoning him over with a kissing noise and chuckling as he licked her face. "Maybe something from Kriegengothic...lie down 'n roll over, boy."

As the dog complied, Gretchen licked her lips. She'd done this once or twice before, but needless to say, never with a dog. Just as she'd hoped, they hadn't gelded him-though he wasn't quite ready.

She smiled just a little. Time to fix that.

Lying down on the floor, supporting herself on her forearms, she placed her mouth over the tip of his sheath and began to lick, pushing her tongue in, sucking gently. The Kriegshünd let out a yip and began to pant, one leg kicking.
Gretchen took the his tip and began to play with it, licking, curling her tongue about it, flicking the thin tip back and forth, sucking gently as he stood harder, smiling inwardly as she gauged her progress by the kriegshünd's quick, short yaps. Finally, as he tickled the back of her throat, she drew back with a smirk. Oh yes, that's just what she wanted...

Sitting back, Gretchen grabbed a pillow from a nearby bunk-then, on a second thought, the folded blanket as well. Setting both behind her head, she whistled to the dog, smirking as he stood over her, panting and hard. Pulling back her legs and pulling down his rump, she guided him in, gripping the back of his sheath-then letting go and lying back.

Not to think of Savlar, of course. As the dog thrusted eagerly into her, she pulled up her shirt and began to rub and squeeze one breast, eyes closed in pleasure, giving a long, pleasured groan. "Ohhh fuck, that's the stuff. Don't fuckin' stop. Just keep it comin'...nnf." Cracking one eye, she let one leg slump and stroked the back of her dog's head, chuckling as he at licked her face. "Yeah, you're a good dog. Goo-ooh-ood dog-mmm-" God, she'd forgotten just how good it felt to have something *warm* inside her, instead of the cold comfort of the vibrator. The dog's fur rubbed her clit, steadily dampening his ticked tan coat, her back arching. Emperor, why hadn't she done this before?

It was getting harder to pay attention to anything else. Her dog's insistent pounding, the feeling of a warm body between her legs-hell, the feeling of a warm dick inside her-were all things she could have quite happily kept up with until the Emperor rose from the Throne.

That is, until she heard the distinctive electric-motor hum-and-rumble of the door.


Miffgrod was feelin' good! He'd found the Chimera, and filled it with all the things da Boss had piled up. "I'z back, Boss! I got da Chimera workin'!"
Much to his surprise, da Boss was nowhere to be seen. Scratching his head, he stepped forward, looking at the raised tail of the growler the boss had traded for.
"Er-Ya all right, boss?"

Gretchen froze. Her hand gripped the dog's muzzle, and she stared it in the eye, holding a finger to her lips. Thankfully, the kriegshünd seemed to understand, and sat still.

“Well do”-no, what was it-“Dead proppa, Miffgrod! Well done! Extra rations tonight! Go get the Leman Russ too!"

"But Boss-"

"I'z da biggest! Go get it, and close the door afterward!"

Miffgrod shrugged and turned. If da boss said, da boss said.

Now, where was it?


As the door closed, Gretchen breathed a sigh of relief and let go of the dog's muzzle, stroking the back of his head.
"Good boy, hünd. Good boy."
With a short whine that rose into a yip, Hünd licked her face. In the intervening interval, he'd gone half-soft, and Gretchen sat back against the desk with a thought. With a smile, she scooted him forward. "Sit, boy."
Slipping two fingers into herself, Gretchen smiled and laid her hand on his member, beginning to rub. Gripping the dog's member, she slowly began to rub his cock, running her fingers over the smooth flesh, coaxing him back into arousal. With a quiet yip, the dog began to thrust against her hand, Gretchen's thumb running against the bottom, feeling the pulsing vein. As he hardened fully again, she smirked, before rolling over, moving the bedroll and pillow under her rump, spreading her legs and her folds. "C'mere, boy. Come 'n get it."
With another happy yap, Hünd padded forward, placing his paws on her hips, beginning to thrust down into her. With the position changed, Gretchen pressed her face against the floor and pushed her rear back against the dog's powerful thrusts, giving little grunts of pleasure every time his hips slapped hers, rubbing her slick hands over her breasts. The dog's cock slammed into her, tip pressing against her with each thrust, short spurts of precum splattering her cervix. With a grin, she gloried in it, pressing back against him every time he pulled back, taking him in and loving every second.
As Hünd kept up his lusty pace, Gretchen began to realize that his cock was getting bigger-at least, at the base. She'd not had a dog before, and didn't know what to make of it-save that it felt delicious. As the forming knot began to spread her every time he went in or out, Gretchen began to pant, the feeling decidedly novel. "Yesss...that's a good boy...that's a good Hünd...fuck me harder..."


Gretchen had to admit...Hünd was well trained. The Kriegshünd pushed his paws against her hips even harder, its groin warm and wet against her with precum and her own slick, natural lube. As the thrusting cock delved deeper into her, Gretchen buried her hands in a small, woven rug underneath the desk, groaning in pleasure as little silver flashes spiderwebbed across her body. She could feel the dog-no, -her- dog-edging closer and closer to climax, spurts of precum coming quicker and quicker.

Letting go of the rug, she reached back and rubbed her hand over her groin, getting her fingers properly slick, stroking Hünd's cock a few times before pushing two fingers into her rear. Such a pleasure-frowned upon as it might be-was something she'd want to try-

And all thought stopped as her hünd came.

It felt good. No-it felt more than good. The thick knot pushed against her as the Kriegshünd's cock jerked, cum splashing against her cervix, leaving her feeling delightfully warm, giving a little groan as some overflowed and ran down her belly.

Still-she wanted it all. Licking her lips, she took her hünd in one hand, stroking him, giving a gasp of surprise as a spurt splashed across her rump, before guiding him against her ass-

Gretchen had just a moment to dig her hands into the rug before she was overcome, gasping in a mixture of pain and pleasure as her pet forced his way into her rear, frenzied jerks giving way to short, powerful thrusts. Inch, by inch, she felt him work his way in, nearly screaming as the knot forced its way through-before her knees buckled, and the Savlar woman let out a long, low groan of pleasure, eyes flickering as Hünd finished inside her.

Several hours later, Miffgrod returned, to find the Boss dressed and asleep in the Comissar's quarters, the growler asleep at her feet.

He couldn't wait for her to wake up.