Tour of Booty

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!)

--------------------

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.

Five months ago, the cats had declared war on the rat nation. Two months ago, the rats requested help from their allies: the humans. Three weeks ago, during a stop at a small town, he had found himself in bed with a beautiful rat lady he never even learned the name of. One day ago, he was assigned to this trench, and one minute ago, he'd nearly been shot in the face. Finally, one second ago, he was climbing up into an active battlefield.

He didn't have time to think about getting shot, his entire being was too focused on running. His safety was in the hands of his squad, and he just had to trust them. To their credit, they made a valiant effort in providing cover fire. They made such an effort, in fact, that the private managed to make it almost all of the way there before being fired upon.

He was only four steps away from his goal when it happened. For a split second, there, in the window, was his feline nemesis. Faster than he could possibly react, they jumped up, aimed their rifle right at his heart, and ducked back down. He saw the flash of the shot, reflexively diving into the dugout. Rolling head over heels into the pit, he landed in the middle of a squad of rat soldiers.

Though his vision was fuzzy from the fall, the human saw that all but one of them were turned towards him. Their eyes were large with apparent shock, and their breathing was heavy through their masks. It took him a moment to realize they were not looking at his face, but were staring between his legs. It also took a moment for him to feel the slight, growing pain coming from his groin. These two facts mixed together in his mind, filling him with terror as he came to the obvious assumption.

Fortunately, a simple glance down was all he needed to realize that he had not been shot in the pelvis. He was unharmed, the sniper had missed. That shot hadn't hit him.

It hit his pants.

Edith was right about him being lucky. If that bullet had been a tenth of an inch higher, he'd have no longer been a male. But as fate would have it, the angle of the shot only resulted in a large hole being blasted through the front of his pants. This left room for his cock and balls to flop out into the open. The ache he was feeling must have been from his nuts slamming into the ground as he flipped. It hurt, yes, but it was a lot better than the alternative.

But, despite Oliver being okay, the rats were still staring at him, not saying a word. His vision clearing (though he was still a little woozy), he examined the group. There were five of them, two on each side and one in the middle. Unlike the human soldiers, who wore dark green, their uniforms were blue and gray.

"Um ..." Oliver began, scotting back a bit. He moved to cover himself, ashamed and embarrassed.

"No!" One of them yelled. Hiding his genitals was apparently the wrong thing to do, as the four gasped in a mix of what seemed like anger and disappointment. Hands shooting up in surprise, he reflexively apologized, despite not knowing what for.

Having not noticed the human fall into their pit, the gunner was still focused on the actual battle they were in the middle of. Kneeling forward with her rear in the air, the powerful weapon vibrated her entire body as she held down the trigger. This meant that, sitting right behind her, Private Nicholson was given a fantastic view of her ass jiggling with each burst. Unfortunately, she soon ran out of ammo.

"I'm out! Next belt!" She flung open the weapon's cover, waiting for someone to load in more ammo. When no one did, she repeated her order louder, not turning around. "Next belt!"

Her rough voice apparently overpowered the other soldiers' interest in Oliver's cock. One of the ones on his left quickly jumped up and grabbed one of the ammo belts he wore on his shoulders. Just as quickly, she knelt down to load it into the gun. She made no attempt at averting her gaze from his groin during this process, nor did she make any attempt to be inconspicuous in doing this. If the human noticed, he didn't say anything, since his own gaze was locked to the gunner's round ass. The way her cheeks shook was just so hypnotizing.

Then came her tail. As she adjusted her stance, her long tail swung down between his legs. Resting over his balls, the tip curled around the base of his cock oh-so softly. Oliver sucked in a breath, realizing that he had apparently gotten hard. He thought back on the lady he had slept with in that town. He had never been intimate with a non-human before, but that night had been the best sex of his entire life. But that was weeks ago. Between the constant running around and fighting, he hadn't gotten a private moment with himself to relax since then. He'd thought of that lady every night, trying and failing to find some private space to relieve his lust. The last time he'd tried, he'd been called to a battle. This battle, in fact.

The gunner's tail was barely touching him and he already felt like his cock was going to explode. He hadn't realized how pent up he was. His poor dick throbbed, a drop of precum leaking down the front of his shaft. It must have been an appetizing sight, as one of the other soldiers started to reach for his crotch ...

BOOM!

... only to flinch away when a mortar shell landed nearby. The tail holding him tightened, squeezing around the base of his cock. This time his dick let out not a drop of precum, but a small spurt that flew through the air to splash right against her crotch. (Quite an impressive shot, he had to admit). Oliver had no doubt that if she squeezed again, he'd be shooting a real load.

The private didn't get a chance to test this theory, sadly. The low, rumbling roar of planes in the sky signaled the start of the rat/human attack. The gunner was quick to spring up and climb out the dugout, but her squad was slower to follow. No, they were too focused on watching the human's cock throb again in lustful need as the rat's tail pulled away. Huddled in a circle, the group just stared at it like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. It wasn't until a passing officer yelled at them to join the charge that they finally remembered they were supposed to be fighting a battle. Three of them left immediately, but the fourth waited a second so that she could reach out and give the human's cock two quick strokes before leaving. Though shocked, he didn't resist.

Now alone, Private Nicholson found himself in a predicament. He was not one to retreat or hide from combat. But he was also not one to run into a battlefield with his penis and/or testicles flopping out between his legs. Taking a piece of shrapnel to the nuts did not sound very fun. Still, he had to do something. So, with his adrenaline overpowering the weirdness of what just occurred, he tried to get to the machine gun.

BOOM!

Yet another explosion right in front of the dugout hit Oliver right back down. It knocked the wind out of him, but the ground was soft enough to leave him unharmed, thankfully.

Likewise, his lap was soft enough that the rat that landed on top of him was unharmed as well.

"OOF!" The human bent at the waist, hugging the female soldier as her butt slammed down between his legs. The blast had knocked her straight down onto him, with a ball trapped under each ass cheek, and a dick wedged firmly between said cheeks. The fall left her too stunned to notice this, or the blast of cum that arced over her shoulder and splattered across and down her left tit. Not quite the release Oliver had been hoping for, but at this point he was taking whatever he could get. Or, well, his cock was taking it, considering it let out a second shot soon afterward.

In her rush to get back into the fight, the rat stood up and bent over to grab her rifle off the ground. Seeing as the human was sitting right behind her, this meant that his face was momentarily smooshed between her soft ass and the wall of the dugout. Though obviously much less sensual, this immediately reminded him of that lady riding his face. It seemed that even in the middle of a huge war, his male instincts still couldn't resist the allure of a nice booty.

Thus, even as the rat that that ass belonged to ran off, the human had to take a second to compose himself. The poor cock between his legs was begging for attention, but this was not the time to be horny. He was a soldier and he had a job to do. The army was counting on him!

Moving his ammo pouch in front of his crotch, he made for the gun again. It was undamaged by the blast, fortunately. With a pull on the charging handle, the weapon was ready to fire and distract him from his raging erection.

--------------------

The Following Day

--------------------

"Private Nicholson? General Ramtal wants to speak with you."

The rat messenger turned to leave the human's tent. Oliver stopped her to ask what this was about, but she didn't know. His squadmates, however, were quick to tease him.

"Oooh, someone's getting court-martialed!"

"Dibs on your watch!"

"What'd you do this time?"

Elbowing Bates out of the way, he straightened his uniform, trying to not seem nervous. If word got out about what happened yesterday during the battle, his squad would never, ever let him live it down. Though he had managed to get back to camp and change without anyone noticing, he worried that those dugout soldiers told the general about what happened. Sure, it was technically nothing more than some uniform damage, but it was still embarrassing.

One of the other humans told Oliver to watch himself around the general. Rumor has it, she was a real ballbuster. He believed it. He'd seen her giving a speech before the battle had started. Her deep, commanding voice barking orders was as motivating as it was intimidating.

Ramtal's office was on the other side of the base, meaning the private had a long jog to get there. As he made his way there, he was struck by a realization as he looked around. It was something he'd sort of noticed before, but hadn't fully taken in. The rat soldiers (who composed about ninety-five percent of his regiment) seemed to be almost entirely women. There were a few men here and there, but they were a tiny fraction. He couldn't help but wonder why they weren't fifty-fifty like the human army. Were all the men dead? The war hadn't been going great, but it didn't seem like the situation was that dire. And it wasn't like the rat army was segregated by gender, he could tell that much. It must have been some kind of societal thing, he concluded. He didn't know much about rat culture, despite their countries being neighbors, but he couldn't think of any other reason.

Pondering this as he walked, Oliver eventually found himself outside the headquarters. Two (very large) rat soldiers, wearing thick black and white armor stood guard. All of the rats were rather tall, but these two were nearly double his height. They gestured for him to enter when he gave his name, not speaking a word. No doubt they were some kind of special forces, as just walking past them made him shiver in a mix of awe and fright.

The general was sitting at her desk, which had a bunch of papers and maps on it. People always spoke about her like she was some scary monster. Now that he had a closer look, though, he had to admit, she was rather attractive. Her fur was a beautiful gray color, complimenting her bright green eyes. There were at least two dozen medals pinned to her shirt, which brought his attention to her chest. Clearing his throat, Oliver saluted her. "Private Nicholson reporting as ordered, sir."

She gave a surprisingly gentle smile, returning the salute. "You're not in any trouble, private. You don't need to look so nervous."

"Yes sir, General Ramtail."

"Ramtal. Sit down, private." She motioned to a chair, and he did as he was told. "Were you injured at all yesterday?"

"No, sir."

"Good. I'm going to get right to the point, private: I have a new assignment for you, if you choose to accept." She leaned in as she said this. Oliver hadn't noticed before, but she had a small scar across the left side of her face, from her ear across her eye. No doubt a souvenir from some battle long ago.

"I'm ready to do anything for our countries."

"Tell me, have you noticed anything ... unusual, about my army?"

Trying not to get lost in her stern yet kind eyes, he answered, "There's ... there's very few men?"

"Indeed. You see, when we rats have our litters, we have, give or take, about two hundred females per one male. Not very good in terms of ensuring the survival of our species, of course, but that's what evolution decided. It is because of this that evolution did something else to us. When faced with danger, we rats also, to put it bluntly ... get aroused." The general gave the human a second to get out his surprised blinks before continuing. "Not at the danger, you understand. No, the desire to have sex skyrockets when we fear that we will not have a chance to have a mate. We are already lacking in male partners, so the fear of never having one makes us desperate. Or, at least that's how our scientists explain it. Point is, now that we are at war, my troops are bored, lonely, and ... at the risk of sounding crude ... in need of sex. They miss their lovers, they miss peace and relaxation. They need something to take their emotions out on, whether those emotions are good or bad. Do you understand what I am saying?"

"Um ..." Oliver stuttered, trying to take all of this in. While this explained why the soldiers yesterday had acted so strange seeing him naked, it also left him with more questions. The most obvious one was why she was telling him this?

"Now," she spoke again before he could ask, "while many female rat soldiers can and will use each other to fulfill this desire, there are just as many that require a suitable ... well ... penis. Throughout our history, we have had a military position called a 'Designated Relief Provider.' That's the official title, at least. Most people informally refer to them as the 'communal cock.' These are men who have been chosen to serve their nation by tending to the needs of our female soldiers (or male soldiers, should they feel they require relief as well)."

This was a lot all at once for the human, but he now felt like he understood why he had been called in. "And ... you want me to ... take this position? But, I'm a human? Wouldn't the army prefer other rats?"

"We have never had a war on this scale before. We simply don't have enough men able or willing to do this job. But you humans have plenty of men. And if you're asking why I'm offering this position to you, specifically? I've spoken to several of my officers and troops, and you were the most requested candidate."

"Wait ... really?" Well that was quite the confident boost. He'd definitely have to rub this in Bates' face.

"Mm-hmm, you are. Apparently my army can't keep their eyes off you around the base. You're not the only, though, mind you. There are a couple of other humans being offered this position alongside you. One of them has already started today. A test-trail, you could call it, to see if a non-rat could fulfill the duties this position requires. He could, so, I now offer this promotion to you. You will be taken off of the front lines. Should the situation demand, you will still be required to fight, but only as a last resort."