I'm sitting in the gun-nest over the base entrance when you and your band emerge from between the trees. I'm briefly struck by your combined beauty, your firm breasts, your just jiggling asses. Your time in the forest seems to regressed you, each of you are clad in tiny animal skins and wield spears or crude axes.
You're moving with intent, loping towards the base with some speed. I pull back on the lever of the machine gun in front of me, feed the ammo belt into place. I swing back and forth as I open fire, a hail of bullets race towards your group.
Women shriek as their bellies are pierced, spin as they're clipped and then wail as I put another burst into them. More than a few are smashed off their feet, crimson spurting from riddled tits. On your left your second-in-command grunts as she's shot, she becomes motionless as blood oozes from the line of bullet holes in her stomach. I fire again and she tumbles backwards, legs kicking skyward.
What's left of your group is shocked, wavering, and I begin placing my shots. A busty teen whose outfit covers nothing gags as I tear open her throat, she's still twitching as I blow away the nipples of a gloriously topless woman and leave her to drown in her own blood.
It's just you left. I've been careful to avoid you, or at least not hit anything major. The sounds of gunfire fade away as you stand amid the carnage, you level your spear at me and shout a warcry. I make you dance, put so many bullets into you that you seem to spasm. Your blood coats your torso almost like clothing, and when the ammo belt empties, when the machine gun stops, you crumple into a untidy heap. Even then you're beautiful.
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