“Fuck! They’re only girls!” snorted one of the soldiers when the girls had approached near enough in the dusk for them to be properly seen and for them to be within earshot.
“But don’t the fucking Buggery lot have fucking women soldiers?” another soldier said to his comrade. “I vote we
gay teens circle jerking shoot the fuckers to buggery, sir.”
“They’re only girls, corporal” repeated the first soldier. “Girls are no fucking good as soldiers. All they’re good for is fucking. Leave them. We got work to do.”
Tracey and Buttercup were both pleased and a little surprised to see the soldiers mostly ignore them, with only one of them watching them with his gun half-cocked, while his comrades continued loading items onto a jeep and busying themselves with some radio equipment. They walked past the soldiers, still not convinced that
gay teens circle jerking they weren’t going to be shot, their arms dropped to their side from weariness and perspiring heavily despite the cooling evening air.
They saw what looked like a border guard, who was
gay teens circle jerking standing to attention by a chair, his machine-gun by his side, eyeing them suspiciously as they approached. His expression was quite clearly not of the friendliest. Just behind
gay teens circle jerking him, on the Gomorran side was another soldier who was smoking a cigarette and staring as much at them as at his comrade.
Buttercup walked up to the guard, who was built quite large with very short hair and a small dark moustache underneath a brutal looking nose. He turned his dark eyes towards Buttercup. “What the fuck do
gay teens circle jerking you want?” he asked, raising his machine gun directly at her
Tracey walked behind Buttercup, disloyally wondering how much Buttercup’s body might shield her from a hail of bullets. Buttercup smiled, despite her obvious terror. “We’re refugees, sir. We want to escape from the horrors of Buggery to the famous refuge of Gomorrah.”
The guard lowered his gun, and laughed in a not especially amiable way. “Refugees! Fuck! For Gomorrah! You’re not the first bitches to want to enter our democratic republic, but the last ones we dispatched pretty quickly. Fucking whores! Why should we fucking spare you? Is it ‘cause you got through the fucking
gay teens circle jerking mine-field. If you weren’t fucking tarts, you ought to get fucking medals for getting here without your fucking leg blown off!”
Tracey blanched. Mine-field? In her fear and desperation, she’d totally forgotten that it wasn’t just bullets she’d had to be mindful of. What fucking slim chance had she had that she’d survived this walk?
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