Hey Everyone!
I've been looking for new platforms to share my stories, and thought I'd try out Literotica. I write furry fetish stories, most of which focus on ballbusting.
This story, however, does NOT contain ballbusting. This is a free-use and edging focused story about some sexy rat women and a very lucky/unlucky human man.
I apologize for any formatting errors, this is my first time submitting on this site!
(Also, while this story does start with a battle, there's no injuries or anything like that!)
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The humans opened fire the instant they saw the cat pop out of cover. But it was too late, the sniper had already pulled the trigger.
PING!
The bullet clipped Private Nicholson's helmet, knocking him backwards. Arms flailing, he slammed into the dirt wall, though he managed to keep his grip on his rifle. The protective metal shell, meanwhile, was sent sailing off his head, spinning over the trench.
"Oliver!" his squadmate, Edith, yelled as she ran over to help him up. "Holy shit, are you okay!?"
Though shaking, he took a deep breath, accepting her hand. "Y-y-yeah. It just grazed me."
"Fuckin' hell. You're one lucky bastard, you know that?" Edith gave a nervous but relieved chuckle, which was muffled under her gas mask.
The ammo belts Oliver carried jingled as he stood up. His attempt at dusting himself off was pointless, as a nearby explosion coated the pair in a shower of dirt. Wiping the goggles of his own mask, he joked to himself, "If I was lucky, I wouldn't be in the middle of a battlefield."
"Seriously," Private Bates, another one of Oliver's squadmates, pointed to him. "We shouldn't even be here! What stake do we have in this? Damn rats, why'd they have to go and drag us into this stupid war?"
One of the nearby officers was quick to answer Bates, yelling over the sound of another explosion: "Cause we're allies, you fucking dumbass! Now shut up and give Nicholson some cover fire!"
Bates and the rest of the squad obeyed this command, firing at the partially destroyed building across the field. The sniper in it had been giving them trouble for hours. It was odd. Felines had worse eyesight than humans, yet it seemed like this cat was outshooting their entire army. Even with Nicholson's squad firing into each window every few seconds, they still managed to jump out and shoot back when the humans least expected. This was especially problematic for Oliver, as he had just been tasked with running across the open battlefield. Sure, it wasn't that far a distance, but it was incredibly risky nonetheless. Still, it was a necessary risk. The squad in a nearby dugout was running dangerously low on ammo for their machine gun. The cats could begin their push at any minute, and, as Oliver's commander pointed out, one weak point in the rat/human line could spell defeat.
So, waiting for a replacement helmet to be passed up, the private prepared for another chance. He'd need to be quick. Climb up and over the trench, sprint across the field, and jump into the dugout in less than ten seconds. Simple. He likely wouldn't be able to run back afterward, so he was carrying as much as he could for the one trip.
"Alright Nicholson," the officer patted his shoulder, "the mortars are gonna fire in a few seconds. Get ready to go as soon as you hear them! Hopefully they'll get that sniper."
"Hopefully," Oliver agreed as he put on his new helmet. Leaning against the ladder, he psyched himself up as best he could for his second attempt. Edith shouldered her rifle, ready to cover him. He nudged her, "Hey, if I die, make sure Bates doesn't get my watch!"
"You're gonna be fine! And don't worry! I'm taking that watch for myself!" The two laughed to themselves, ignoring their comrades' request for them to kiss his backside.
POW!
"I got em!"
A gunshot followed by a cheer to their right got their attention. One of the soldiers pointed to the destroyed building, "I got 'em! Did you see that? I actually got 'em!"
The cheer was echoed by the entire line, someone had finally put that sniper down. Relieved that at least one less feline was going to be shooting at him as he ran, Oliver got ready to climb. Not wanting to run with his gas mask, he took it off, clipping it to his chest in case he needed it. With this, and with more reassurance from his friend, he waited for the thunderous report of their artillery.
BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!
He didn't have to wait long. Feeling the sound rattling through his bones, Private Nicholson thought back on the previous events that had led him to this moment.