Chapter 4

This final chapter of my story is intended merely as a lesson to those young female recruits out there that have not as yet experienced the chaos of combat.

The fact that our fighting force was mostly female is a demographic reflection rather than a credit to female superior fighting skills. I had been guided into the “sniper mentality” by my ill treatment whilst a prisoner of the North Koreans and the slings and arrows of our own society that historically held feminine accomplishments continuously inferior to male achievements regardless of their obvious superior skills.

In all honesty, I have to admit I am addicted to cock in a completely shameful way despite the beautiful and plentiful pussy all around me ready to take my face between slender shapely legs and allow me to lick my way to the finish line.

My Captain is a stunning former model from Las Vegas that is usually amused by the numbers of young pretty recruits willing to rim her rear portal with their busy little tongues. I did it once when she was just finished bathing in diluted milk mixture that was supposed to keep the skin young and fresh. I had heard that enemy raiders had their own mixture of our captured female complete blood supply as a bath with similar benefits. Of course, they had to off two or three recruits to have enough fluid for a single bath. That led to an investigation by the uniformed military war criminal board and the practice was stopped without additional genocidal tendencies hidden from the general public.

The entire period of time that I functioned as a sniper was filled with joy each time I lined one of the bastards up in my sights and squeezed the trigger with infinite satisfaction.

Despite the fact that part of one of my cheeks had been chopped off by some hot shrapnel from an RPG, the male boy-toys liked humping me because I was so good at giving them a good ride that they would remember for a long time. I usually reserved my oral skills for female interaction because I found it a lot more pleasant to lick the carpet and taste the brown eyes of the higher ranking female officers knowing that they would put in a good word for me at any review board when I screwed up.

The word had come down that the hostilities were coming to a rapid end and most of us didn’t have any idea if we had won or lost the war.

My suspicion was that it was a dead heat because they weren’t handing out any medals lately and the rumor around the urine holes was that the politicians had made a deal that made us hand over a percentage of our offspring each spring like a sort of tithe to a foreign God. I guess it was the kind of solution that could be mitigated providing the parents didn’t get too close to the little ones before they were shoved onto the helicopter and sent off to a fate worse than death.

The official word was that hostilities would cease on Sunday next at twelve noon.

I spent all day Saturday setting up ambushes to employ my sniper skills and managed to dispatch over twenty of the enemy before I ran out of ammunition. We had been getting short on ammunition and other military supplies since the previous winter and I suspected that our production council was feeling the crunch of continuous war.

At least part of the deal was that we would be able to repatriate all prisoners and we watched the shells of former soldiers hobble and crawl from the transport planes like turtles without a guidance system. It was so painful, I couldn’t watch any longer and simply went down to the booze locker and bent my elbow like most of the other girls that found no reason to celebrate either.

They made us turn in our weapons that same Sunday and I was certain it was because we weren’t trusted to turn into peace-loving civilians anytime soon. I have to admit, I still had a hard inner core that needed to kill the enemy wherever I could find them. The authorities did their best to keep the opposing forces separated to prevent such infractions and were only moderately successful, at best.

After a few shots of the rot-gut that they served at the booze trap, I hooked up with a boy-toy with a cheap price tag because he had a less than satisfying cock and was reluctant to get down on his knees and show a girl his good intentions. I let him do me in my front and also in my back and had to admit he was not built for the long haul but would be useful for short-time spurts of happy times and he didn’t mind bending over and taking it up the ass when a girl wanted something different. At least he didn’t expect me to get down and take his tiny offering into my mouth and he was unusually clean for a boy-toy.

I discovered he had a female room-mate and she couldn’t have been much more than eighteen. After some limited interrogation, he admitted she was his sister and he had been trying to keep her out of the military recruit depots because they were looking for girls her age for dangerous assignments the men didn’t want anything to do with.

Her name was Lisa and she had a habit of licking her lips that made me want to put her over my knee and spank her until I broke her of the fetish. I noticed she was watching me do her brother from behind later that night and I felt bad because she looked so shy and innocent.

I asked her brother if I might be able to play with her a bit and he gave me a strange look and simply said,

“Fifty Credits!”

That was double what I had paid for him but this girl got my blood to steaming and all I could think about was her face between my legs.

I paid him the fee and he ran away and hid it somewhere just to be on the safe side in case I was the thieving kind.