Think Like the Enemy
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They'd crossed into Golf-Lima, where gently rolling meadows of windswept, yellowy weeds were punctured by chunks of broken concrete and mostly rusted steel.
Pax was naked, his face covered by the bandana, and slowly turning as the Sexy Scarab's nozzle misted him with a fresh layer of bug repellant. He clenched his sphincter to stop it from gaping or he'd feel the bug spray burn unpleasantly inside him.
He pulled the bandana from his eyes as the spray dried into a sun-glistening layer.
Ferryn was tinkering on top of the battle wagon. Solstice was lugging himself around the perimeter, his huge blaze mortar resting on his shoulder pads, hands on the triggers. The commander was leading Axil around.
The psycho convulsed as his dangerous energies were once again discharged in shocks.
Solstice strolled past, eyes on the horizon. "Y'think it's anything this time? Bautista's freedick is squirting the moment anyone just mentions a fistin' undernest."
Pax slapped his forearm wraps back onto his densely tattooed arms. "If not we'll know fast as a cumshot with a psycho 'round. There sure was loads'a bugs in the forest."
"Spooked you?"
Pax grinned. "Ha, fist off."
The leader with the purple bandana and his collared attendant with a tactical jockstrap returned.
"Bugs queuing underground," Bautista simply said. "Toward the border to Foxtrot-Gamma."
"The boy tell you that, sir?" Pax asked.
Axil nodded. "No mutants, so the signal's weak as fuck. But there's a lot."
"Ever caught a bug, boy?" Solstice asked.
Axil swallowed and met the eyes of the man with the skull tattoo. "I gotta see some Roaches up close for psy-training, but sedated, weak as a triple fisted mancunt. And the occasional Weevil in a cage. The rest was... at a distance."
Bautista slapped Axil's and Pax' back in passing. "Hop on, we'll catch a fresh bitch."
With the commander piloting, the Sexy Scarab rolled off, as carefully and stealthily as a tank-van could.
Pax groped his way up to the top where Ferryn was bolting something in place, knees far apart to remain stable.
"What the fist, dude?" Pax asked.
Ferry looked up, proud. Between the two mass driver turrets had been an iron barstool to keep back-to-back gunners from dropping off the vehicle during maneuvers.
The engineer had replaced it with a double-headed dildo holder at hip-height. Pax of course recognized the bright green, two-ended fist dildo with knots along the shaft.
The short man in the penguin muzzle shrugged. "Nobody ever sat on the seat. This is better by an assgasm. Literally. Saw one like this at the zoner-garage in Haven."
"I want that toy back inna box," Pax said. "You shoulda asked, dicklet-hole."
"Nuh-uh," Ferry made and pulled his pink goggles up. "Don't cream your jock. 'Course, the Helping Hands are removable so they won't be exposed to the elements. I'm a genius."
Axil was sitting by the roof hatch, his legs dangling into the Scarab. He had eyes on them with vague interest. Solstice sat in the side mounted cage of the right Q-energy pulser. He gave an approving nod.
Pax sighed. "I'll... Fuck yeah? Verdict's still fisting out, but fuck yeah for now."
"Low five?"
Pax reached for the roof lube dispenser and slathered his hand. Ferryn went on all fours, holding onto a gold painted pipe.
Pax opened the roof dildo box, finding only one toy stowed there, red and black with three thick knots. He dragged it through the lube dispenser, popped it onto the roof's vac plug and sat down.
The gunner's hand went into the smaller man's ass and Ferry rattled on the pipe like he needed to rip it off, his body fighting to the last. Pax pumped gently for a few minutes, the twink given over to rolling assgasms while Pax had to do light squats to get his own. He felt the rise of sexual bliss. Apropos.
"Psycho, can ya gimmi the Thunder Bliss?"
"Yeah, dude. Do I get dibs on the fuck machine?"
"Knock yaself out."
#
The Sexy Scarab slowed to a slightly squeaky halt too soon, leaving Pax craving hours more of the deeper and harder assgasms. But duty called.
"Convoy ahead," Bautista said over com. "Ferryn, send a scout. We'll grab a specimen and run but prepare for hot fistin' pursuit."
"On it, sir," Ferryn said, standing wide legged. He retrieved a head-sized drone -- Thrip -- and sent it off for reconnaissance.
Bautista climbed out onto the roof. "Circle up, zoners."
The five formed a circle, leaning into it, arms along each other. Axil had been told about this ritual and was smiling eagerly.
"Lemmi hear it, mancunts," Bautista shouted. "Why are we here?"
All together yelled. "To fuck up bugs, fuck up bugs, fuck up bugs! Hooo! Hooo! Hooooo!" They burst apart, Bautista hopped down together with Axil and the crew went to work as the Scarab moved again.
Soon they came in sight of the aboveground trail of bugs. Weevils and Wasps. Basically the same grotesque assemblies of grotesque insect parts but one flew like a chicken, the other like a hawk.
They formed a line of about one bug every three feet, carrying or rolling dirt clumps and rocks, digging something underneath the ground.
"Still no Dragonfly," Axil said over com. "Gonna unload, gimmi a sec- hhnnng." His voice vanished as he got shocked.