My idea, I commissioned AgentTygress to write. https://www.patreon.com/AgentTygress
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Set in the far far away dystopian future, in a ruined city in The Empire's territory. There was a mining complex that turned into a rebel encampment about to get taken back by the Empire's rules. The mission was to eradicate all the rebels, no one will be spared, the blitz was fierce, fast, not so efficient, but the results made the higher up pleased. The footage was from the squad commander in RDV number 660 of the Empire's army. (See the picture of RDV in here. )
_________________________ Story part.__________
“How are they doing in there?” The driver asked.
“Wanking like there’s no tomorrow!” The commander laughed as she answered, watching the antics of the girls as she massaged her own clit through her skintight combat armour. She knew the symbolic armour would do nothing to stop incoming fire, but it did package her luscious body beautifully which meant that if she got noticed by some higher level commander reviewing combat footage there was a chance, however slim, that she might get called back to rear echelon to be their whore. It was a slim chance, she knew, but still better than the one she had out here. Even so, it was A LOT better chance than any of the girls currently reclining in their deployment positions and shivering with anticipation.
She sighed as she monitored the girls’ vitals on her screen. She’d just injected them with combat drugs a few minutes ago and wanted to make sure there were no cardiac failures. It was all too common with inexperienced models like these, not that most of them would have time to get experienced, like her. She knew just what it was like, of course; She could easily remember the terrible yearning for a home that she’d been taken from when she was just sixteen. Too young to really appreciate how much she was losing until it was too late.
By the time she’d really begun to appreciate just how special home had been it was already fading, drowned in a steady regimen of combat drugs, neurological realignment, and imperial propoganda. By the time they’d put a blaster carbine into her hands she couldn’t wait to die for the Empress. She’d been hit so many times in training, every instance of her simulated death accompanied by an orgasm so powerful that it was all she really wanted between operations. Even the sad, desperate make-out sessions that she shared with the other girls in their bunks after lights out were nothing compared to those moments on the battlefield, even though it was only simulated, it’s what she lived for.
Somehow she’d survived, though, even as all the girls she knew were blown away, sometimes one at a time, sometimes by the truckload. She envied them, of course, especially when she was selected for command tier and placed at the head of her own squad. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the work; watching sexy little girls getting blown away day in and day out was delectable, but even with all the rockets and blaster beams flying around she never seemed to manage to get hit.
She was drawn from her reverie by the sound of an explosion as the RDV right next to her is blown away, body parts and machine bits spewing across a jagged impact crater as the thing ruptures from within. She tries to tear her eyes away from the gruesome sight of entire tits rolling across the ground like ruptured beach balls but fails to look away as one of them comes to a wobbly stop only to eject the silicone implant that had filled it. The implant rolled away on it's own trajectory before being speared by a piece of falling shrapnel and oozing out it's white gel filling. Just as she managed to look away an entire uterus landed on the RDV's external rearview mirror, just a few centimeters from her face, and she found herself staring at the miraculously intact pair of ovaries dangling from it like earrings.
“Must have been one of those new delayed-det rockets!” The driver shouted back, her voice thick with lust and anticipation as she drove her machine through the splattering rain of meat, organs, blood and shrapnel that her best mate’s RDV had thrown up when it was taken out. In the tight confines of her command chair the commander yearned to DO something, her muscles pulsing insistently that she ACT; Do something! Her mind screamed at her. The fight or flight instinct went quite mad, raging like an animal against the sadomasochistic array of straps and clips that kept her delectable body secured to her compact chair. No; there was nothing for it. The driver would keep barreling forwards into what was quickly becoming a torrent of enemy fire, and one of those beams or rockets would do for them, or they wouldn’t. There certainly wasn’t anything she could do about it so she did the only thing she could; she enjoyed it.
“OHhhhh…” The commander moaned softly, joining half the girls in their coffin-like deployment racks as she climaxed inside her sexy, revealing combat suit….
“Hey why are these suits so tight anyway?” One of the girls, straight out of basic, asked suddenly, taking advantage of the tightness of her suit to rub her clit right through the thin material, but still curious.
"Eye candy!" Put in a cute girl with glasses. "It's so we look super kawaii as we get blown away! They're watching these missions live, you know!" She smiled and glammed for the cameras that she was quite right - were watching them at every moment.
“Sure, but it’s also to keep us together as much as possible when we get blown apart.” The girl on the rack right in front of hers gasped out through what sounded like a delicious climax.
“Huh, like, for medical reasons?” Another girl wondered aloud, her voice doing all sorts of funny things as she rode the crest of her first combat drug-induced climax down to the start of the next set of multiple orgasms she was thrashing through.
“Nah,” replied the girl in the front rack who seemed so well informed. “So that it’s easier to pick up the pieces. You know, for recycling!”
“That makes sense,” The girl who’d first asked the question agreed with a serious nod. “OH!” She gasped as she climaxed again at the thought of her own death, just as her mental conditioning dictated she do.
“No it doesn’t!” Objected another of the rookies. This little deviant was some kind of prude, and she was turning bright pink from the effort of rejecting what the combat drugs were telling her she should do.
“Oh no, Reject,” Another of the rookies called her by her cruel training nickname. “Why not?”
“Don’t call me that,” Reject pouted. “My designation’s 242027, not reject.”
“Whatever you say, Reject!” Another girl piped up, her young voice trailing away to a scream at the end as she climaxed explosiverly, sure that some of her pussy milk would splatter the girl in the rack in front of her. Alas, her catheters sucked up all her juices, but she still enjoyed picturing the other girl’s annoyed face as she splattered her with her vagnial spew.
“Why doesn’t it make sense anyway?” Another girl who hadn’t spoken up yet asked.
“It doesn’t make any sense because they finish us off if we get wounded!” Reject explained, sounding thoroughly exasperated with the other girl, and also quite frustrated as her suit and body kept insisting that she get off, which she continued resolutely refusing to do.
“Our leftover organs aren’t for us, stupid!” The know-it-all girl in the front row laughed at Reject. “They’re for important people, you know! Like the commander!”
“But that doesn’t…” Reject began to object, before the commander cut her off.
“Traps shut, sluts!” She shouted over the comm to get their attention. “We’re there, bitches! Doors open in FIVE, FOUR, THREE…” She counted down with ruthless precision.
Through the impossibly cramped passenger ‘compartment’ of the vehicle the girls moaned collectively in anticipation, each of them knowing that the next few second would probably be her last. None moreso than the girls in the front row that knew the sights of the enemy would be trained on them and dead steady. The girls in the second row could hope for their lives to be spared by the recoil from the first shot. The girls in the first row were talking meat, and they knew it.
“For the Empress!” The know-it-all girl moaned as the commander’s coundown reached zero and the driver punched the discharge human cargo button. The gate clanged down with mechanical inevitability and the first thing that came through the open space was the blaster bolt that caught her right in the pussy. She got as far as “…the emp” before the bolt slammed into her watering cunt and cut a swath clean through most of the length of her body, vapourizing or exploding her internal organs before bursting out through the base of her neck and singing the hair on the back of her head before finally discharging against the armored footrest of the girl in the rack behind her. The girl she’d just traded her life to save.
“MY PUSSY!” She screamed, aghast, or at least would have if, when she opened her mouth, words had come out instead of a torrent of blood. As it was she aspirated a geyser of blood straight into the air as the footrests of the girls in the front row clacked down and her body was unceremoniously dumped onto the scorched concrete of the battlezone.
The girls below and to the sides of her had gotten much the same treatment, and their bodies joined her in the dust, twitching spasmodically as the mortally young ladies quickly joined each other in death. The girls behind them fared better. Two of the girls from the second row and three from the third row actually lived long enough for their feet to touch the ground, though one of the girls from the fourth row, know-it-all, only survived for about a half a second after that, gasping as a blaster bolt passed right through the center of her chest and splattered the girl behind her in her heart and lungs. She had just enough time to gasp in a pitiful squeak, then her eyes crossed behind her glasses in the most utterly adorable way and she managed to hold that expression, somehow, as her lifeless body hit the ground.
More girls were pouring out of the RDV now, and when they didn’t immediately join the growing bodypile at the base of the RDV they charged forwards into the shattered no-man’s land of broken concrete and pock-marked mud that separated them from their target, the rebellious mining complex.
The commander watched in appreciation, her heart swelling with pride even as her labia swelled with blood. Her girls were bravely charging right into the teeth of enemy fire and not giving an inch. Granted they were dying like flies, but they were following their orders and that was what mattered. As soon as one fell another would be there to leap over her dying body. It took only seconds for the girls to charge across the no-man’s land, leaving a trail of corpses in their wake, and blast their way into the mining complex.
As the RDVs slewed away from the rebel-held strongpoint the miner’s Jerry-rigged point-defense-systems took a heavy toll on the lightly armoured vehicles, blowing two more away completely and vapourising the driver’s compartment of a third before they made it over a nearby ridge and out of the line of fire. Apparently the driver was the lucky one because the commander had had her legs, hands, and lower pelvis all shorn off with almost surgical precision. She knew because both sides knew; the dying commander was breathlessly narrating her own death over an open channel as the introduction to a plea for mercy.
"Please," the dying girl begged all the combatants over the static of an uncoded frequency. "Please I'm looking at my uterus right now…" She paused to cough up some blood. "It's… it's filled with semen from the last man that fucked me and it's… my uterus is leaking onto the seat. I'm… cough cough… watching my uterus leak out my last fuck. Please kill me… please…" It went on and on like that, everyone listening to the girl's pitiful prayer for death and no one obliging her because they were all enjoying it far, far too much. In the end the girl's fate was to bleed out over the course of the engagement as her suit first tried and failed to keep her alive, then started triage treatment on her remaining viable organs.
The commander found her mate’s pitiful begging and moaning to be the perfect accompaniment to the high-resolution video she was getting from her troopers’ helmet cams of the fight inside the facility. The rebels were brave and knew that they’d be rape-tortured to death if captured, so they fought with the desperation of those that have nothing to lose, but their skintight, unarmoured mining suits provided nothing in the way of protection from blasters, though their tubed face masks would have saved them from some types of chemical weapons the Imperials might have chosen to deploy. They might have tried such methods, too, if human life had been worth anything to them. As it was, however, expending troopers was a sure thing, and no matter how many were killed taking the facility there were always plenty more girls to take their place.
The first squad to reach the inner stairwell, the last bastion of the rebel’s defense charged down heedless of casualties, and died to a girl with the exception of the squad leader, who had the misfortune of being hit in the leg and grabbed by the few surviving rebels at the bottom. The commander started rubbing her clit even more furiously in anticipation as she watched the scene unfold through the girl’s chest cams.
“Let’s rape her with a blaster and blow away her uterus from the inside!” Screamed one of the rebels as she roughly caressed the poor wounded trooper’s swollen labia with the smoking barrel of her blaster. The commander’s pouty lips formed the word ‘yes’ without making a sound as the rebel made to carry through with her threat.
“No, WAIT!” Screamed the rebel’s companion, but it was too late. The trooper moaned in ecstasy-laden despair as her intravaginal mine detonated as the rebel roughly penetrated her with her blaster. The resulting explosion tore the trooper in half and killed or injured all the remaining rebels. By the time the next breaching squad rushed down the stairs all they had to do was finish off the few wounded rebels with shots to the back or head, and it was all over.
“All hostile down,” The commander noted, her voice shuddering distinctly as she came down off another orgasm that felt like it had risen up from benthic depths. “Make sure you finish off the wounded and get all of your sister’s corpses up here!” She instructed as she was the most senior surviving commander in the remaining RDVs.
She listened with satisfaction to the staccato rhythm of execution shots, each solitary report signifying the end of an injured trooper’s life as the girls turned on their own to save valuable medical resources and body parts for more useful members of the Imperial war machine.
“Give me just a second!” Begged 242027, the rookie that the commander vaguely recalled the other girl’s had nicknamed ‘Reject’ because she didn’t want to get off on her combat drugs. Gravely wounded, her intestines spewed out elaborately behind her, her left breast blown off and spread across several meters of the hallway. Her right breast was blown open but somehow the implant inside was perfectly preserved, jiggling as she desperately stroked herself She was masturbating furiously, biting her up from pain, her face screwed up in an adorable expression of concentration as she desperately manipulated her clit.
“Sorry, reject,” the other rookie responded with a grin as she raised her blaster and put it to the other girl’s forehead, destroying the brain being the preferred method of preserving maximum usable organs on a wounded trooper. “But orders are orders!”
“NO! But I’ve never…” Reject was objecting when the other girl blew her brains out, laughing as the rookie’s corpse meaninglessly shuddered through the throes of the girl’s first and last orgasm without it’s owner onboard to appreciate it.
“Oh perfect,” The commander smiled as the rookie’s cruelty brought a sincere smile to her voluptuous lips, and she leaned back into her most powerful orgasm yet. She might have lived to fight another day, but there was always tomorrow, and after she was done carting the remains of her dead troopers (12 of the 18 vivacious girls under her command a few minutes ago were now cooling corpses) back to base she’d get a little sack time, fuck a few of her surviving girls, and then the whole lot of them would be sent against the next rebel stronghold. Surely she’d get it that time, or if not then, the next…
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