Soviet Fluffy Tails: The Laborer Pt. 2

>You haul yourself out of bed as soon as the sun starts to rise, ignoring your body's ardent protests. You want to put your soiled clothes in the wash before Holly wakes up

>Before that though, you need breakfast. You haven't eaten since lunch break during yesterday's shift.

>The imported candies you brought home for your sister are a tempting target, but you resolve not to touch them and instead reach for the jar of kvass on the counter

>After downing your second glass you head back to the laundry room and begin dropping your now disagreeably crunchy cold weather gear into a bucket of water to soak

>As you rifle through your outfit's pockets to retrieve your wallet and workpass you happen upon The Sharpshooter's still-wet panties soaking through your shirt pocket

>You pull them out, and quietly wonder what the hell to do with them

>Your reverie is interrupted by the barely audible grinding-clicking noise that indicates someone pumping at your broken doorbell, followed by a gentle rapping on the door

>Who could be out there this early in the morning?

 

>You straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath as you reach out to grip the door handle, preparing yourself to chew-out anyone who dares to hassle you after the night you've just had. You can already hear that old hag from downstairs screeching at your over your ever-late bills.

>Instead, you open the door to find yourself face to face with the Kitsune in the Sharpshooter's Uniform from last night, the sheepish, aroused grin she had on when you last saw her reverted back to the look of stern collectedness she seems to habitually wear

>You flap your mouth open and closed a few times, searching for something to say

>How did she find you? WHY did she find you? It's never good to have a card-carrying member of The Party take a serious interest in you, least of all a cold-blooded shocktrooper like her

>You regain your composure and try to look intimidating as you summon the courage to tell her off. She's alone this time, you can take her...right?

>Before you can say anything, she hoists a sizable paper bag up to your face. It bears the emblem of a pricey restaurant in one of the more affluent areas of town and smells absolutely delicious

>"I'm sorry...you missed dinner. Christmas dinner...."

>You're caught off-guard by this gesture of generosity, so off-guard that you don't notice her moving past you until she's already inside the apartment

>You catch a whiff of something crisp and floral as her bushy tail swishes past you. Is she wearing perfume?

 

>The Sharpshooter draws her gloves off and hangs her jacket on the coat rack before heading toward the kitchen

>You follow, too befuddled to do anything else

>When she gets to the kitchen she begins pulling steaming containers out of the bag. You see beef bourguignon, bread, cheeses, even a bottle of wine. You can't even remember the last time you had a drink.

>You've seen the prices they charge there. You could eat for 2 days on the amount of money she's just spent on this single meal, maybe longer if you tightened your belt

>You consider saying so, but you're still afraid to contradict a kitsune soldier, despite how harmless she seems now

>You resolve to eat a token helping and try to finagle your way into retaining the leftovers. All your time and money went into gifts this month, leaving nothing for a proper holiday feast for Holly

>She turns to you suddenly and asks where you keep your plates

>You point to the cabinet over the icebox, and she strides over and begins sorting through your mismatched collection of china with militant efficiency

>She pulls one plate out, then after a second manages to retrieve the only other plate that matches it. It seems she's intent on joining you for your meal

 

>The Sharpshooter pulls out 2 chairs on the same side of the table, the grating sound of wood on tile seeming worlds louder in your quiet apartment

>You pretend not to notice and seat yourself on the opposite side of the table from her, where you have a clear view of everything she's doing and 37 inches of reasonably solid pine protecting you

>The Sharpshooter looks a bit disappointed, her tail drooping down behind her, but she slides your plate and its attendant cutlery over to your side of the table and serves you a large helping

>You had planned on trying to save the bulk of the food for your sister, but a month on bare-bones portions has left you with too little resistance and you tear into the food like it had insulted your ancestors

>The Sharpshooter slides into her seat opposite yours and begins eating with a bit more restraint

>You dine in silence for a while, The Sharpshooter's ears pricking up at even the tiniest sound coming from you, before the awkwardness of the situation forces you to ask the obvious question

>"Why are you doing this?"

 

>It's The Sharpshooter's turn to be surprised now. Her tail stands on end and her frigid facade melts away, leaving her looking less like a kitsune and more like a deer in the headlights

>"<mumble>.....remuneration..."

>"What?"

>"I said that this isn't for free. I'm going to need some remuneration. I-I don't mean money. I know you don't have any. Not that I'm saying I don't think you're a hard worker! I just know you can't afford to eat like this all the time. That'swhyIgottakeoutfromtheresoyoucouldn'tpaymeforitincashandyou'd..."

>You pretend to take interest in the wine's label, watching her stumble through...whatever it is she's doing is so painful you wish you'd just stayed quiet

>"Y-You're going to have to pay with your body"

>You stop in the middle of reading the imported wine's boasts of artful blending and aging and look up at her

>She's leaning over the table at you, a trembling imitation of the teasing, seductive grin her squadmates wore last night on her face. Despite the confidence she's trying to convey, her tail is flicking about nervously and her ears are pressed all the way back against her head

 

>You stare her down, trying to tell how serious she is about this. She's a kitsune, and a soldier at that, so she probably has it in her to overpower you physically, but she's also clearly among the more timid of her kind, and you might be able to talk her down....

>The standoff is broken before you can say anything by a cry of delight from the bedroom. It seems Holly has woken up and discovered her gift

>She comes running into the room a moment later, the martially dressed kitsune doll held in her arms, her nightgown dragging on the floor behind her

>Too excited to take notice of her doll's dark-skinned doppelganger in the seat across from you, she jumps right into your lap and hugs you as tight as she can

>The Sharpshooter quietly sits back down, a blush burning through the caramel color of her cheeks to shout her embarrassment to the world

>Finally taking notice of The Union's Finest on the other side of the table, Holly looks at you quizzically, worried that you've gotten yourself into trouble

>"It's alright Shorty, she's a friend"

>Holly smiles excitedly at this pronouncement, she's always telling you to make more friends. She runs around the end of the table to stand in front of The Sharpshooter, curtsying clumsily, then holding up her doll proudly

>The Sharpshooter's look of chagrin shifts to one of barely-restrained adoration; the look of a child fighting the urge to pet a kitten for fear of scaring it away

 

>Holly fidgets under the tanned soldier's gaze. She's never been a very talkative girl, but the silence begs to be broken and she's clearly the only one up to the job

>"Hello"

>Like a spring being released, The Sharpshooter grabs your younger sister and pulls the smaller girl onto her lap, hugging her close with both her arms and her fluffy tail, nuzzling their cheeks together

>Holly looks shocked at the amount of affection she's getting from a total stranger, but quickly gets comfortable in the kitsune's warm embrace, nuzzling her back and petting her tail

>The sight reminds you of your rough treatment the night before, and you suppress a shiver

>Holly's stomach growls and The Sharpshooter releases her, bounding over to the cupboard to fetch her a plate

>Now seated atop a milk crate to bring her up to a comfortable height with the table, Holly eyes the spread with wonder and digs in with much more than her usual gusto, perhaps recognizing what a rare opportunity your "friend"'s gift presents

>The Sharpshooter positively beams at your sister's approval, and  you have to shake her out of her reverie before you can excuse yourselves to the other room to talk

 

>The Sharpshooter follows you into the adjacent room, still looking as though she just won the lottery, her clumsy sexual advance apparently forgotten

>You repeat your earlier question: Why is she doing this?

>"I don't know. I just...I like you. I like the way you smell, the way you look. I like how kind you are to your family. I knew as soon as I looked in your bag last night that you'd been working hard to make a kid's Christmas special...."

>The cynic in you is tempted to cut her off and state that she "likes" you because you're an unclaimed male who didn't resist when she and her friends forced themselves on you, but she seems so earnest that you decide to stay quiet until she finishes

>"...I'd like to spend more time with you, if that's okay. Have a proper date"

>You cock an eyebrow, unsure if this is a real invitation or just the mischief that kitsunes are famous for

>"I can bring more food. I'm not a big spender;my pay slips are just piling up. We could eat like this every day"

>You lean over and look through the doorway at Holly, patting her tummy contentedly for the first time in a while

>"Very well"

 

>The Sharpshooter claps her hands together in delight and pushes you against the wall, standing on her tiptoes to kiss you

>As she presses her lips to yours, her tongue slips out from between them and slides over your mouth, asking for permission to enter

>You open your mouth, and she slides her long, prehensile tongue in to entangle it with yours

>She's wagging her tail freely now, too happy to contain herself, and the bushy appendage's wild thrashing threatens to knock over a faded ceramic flowerpot on the table next to you

>You grab her tail and pull it against her back before it trashes what little home decor you have, and the sensation of your hand brushing her fur against the grain causes her to groan into your mouth, pulling herself closer to you with a shudder

>Your free hand trails down her back toward her buttocks, but she breaks the kiss before you can explore her body further

>She flushes with delight and hugs her tail against her chest as she smiles at you, trying to contain her excitement

>"I'll show you plenty of affection tomorrow, but I can't act too dirty with such a sweet little girl in the house"

>She peeks her head through the doorway and waves goodbye to Holly, then whirls around to snatch her jacket off the coatrack and springs out the door like a ballerina

>The door slams behind her,  then reopens just enough for her to poke her head through, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth

>"By the way, I'm Silmeria, 7th Squad Sharpshooter"

 

Links to other chapters

Ch1 http://pastebin.com/ZQRTwSWx

Ch3 http://pastebin.com/Wv6VRndr

Ch4 http://pastebin.com/EhDn8bja

Ch5 http://pastebin.com/SAYshD8G