Monday 31 October 2016

Burning Asia: The Present Image By Saurabh Pant




Burning Asia: The Present Image


http://www.lulu.com/shop/saurabh-pant/burning-asia-the-present-image/ebook/product-22923038.html

A powerful real world poetry collection about issues in Asia, from Afghanistan to India via Singapore. Asia is a huge area of the world and the problems and topics raised here are cutting edge and powerful. From the ongoing Philippine drug war to the Kashmir question, the work here is both memorable and soul searching. Everybody in Asia and further afield will find this book interesting and thought provoking. Priya Verma illustrates the book with simple but powerful cartoon images. Think of the man stood in front of the tank in Tienanmen Square, you get the idea. Everybody from President Putin to Premier Xi to the normal person in the street/field need to read this book. If only to bring awareness on the issues and broaden the solutions. A welcome book on Asian issues that are global.

The Dog Czar

The Dog Czar
There's a place like the Kremlin. It's near all of us. A place where the moaning and decrepit live. Where nothing but lies exist. We all know people like him. The cheaters, back stabbers and baby killers. Personal characteristics like the current Neo Sov leader, the Dog Czar.
A world of hurt bigger than God's universe.
Putin, the latest Kremlin cohort, is the king of desolation. Unleashing his despair upon Crimea, the Ukraine and the West. Rev psych is king. Say the opposite of your actions. Make your intent unbreakable.
Dog Czar dictator. Master liar.
It's back to the old days. A balance of terror restored. Only generals and weapon companies benefit. Getting big fat war pensions and cluster bomb orders. You in your silver tower, the Dog Czar.
Want us to roll over, play dead as you crush us with your tanks and jets. Blood of five thousand on your hands. An ocean of bleach won't clean them.
You're in Hitler's league. A butcherous bastard.
We ask, when will it end? Your wrath and the lies of a world population. Conditioned to live as slaves, lie like devils and die like rats.

While you, the Dog Czar, live like a whore.

Ultima Thule by Jimmy Boom Semtex

Sunday 30 October 2016

Wizard

Wizard
Observe, remember, write
Climb up tin steps
Look for the oil can
Avoid broken yellow bricks
Do not follow the road
The colour is rancid
Don’t bow down to commie

Stay free free free.

NATO * OTAN

NATO * OTAN
We worship NATO for it's a big FUCK YOU! to Putin.
We love Vipers and Patriot missiles.
We love modernised B83 air dropped nukes.
We love Ukraine joining Europe and NATO.
We love freedom, free speech, free thought and identity.
We hate tyranny, oppression, dictators and enforced empire.
This is for my brothers and sisters.
Those who dream to be free and oppose Putin and Assad.

Salute!

Thursday 27 October 2016

JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX gets pampered like a girl!

a ditty lol

"Shh," his wife indicated. She kissed him some more. Time stopped. He replied to her hungry kisses. When she bit his tongue and drew blood, he gasped. When she did it again, he bit her back. This drove her nuts. She hurriedly lifted his damp white t-shirt and threw it on the mop heads. His chest was toned like an athlete. Abby drew her fingers down his back, lightly at first. Ian placed his hands on her bare legs and felt her thighs. Her cut down jeans made her look good. And lush. She bit him again...

Wednesday 26 October 2016

Juniper’s Daughter: The Final War, A novel by Nick Armbrister

   “Yes I remember the ship, ran aground in a storm a few years ago. I’m surprised there was still beer on it,” John said surprised.
   “That’s right, turns out it was hidden in a secret compartment someplace. Anyhow, our man found it and here it is. Sure is good, eh folks?”
   “Still tastes fine even if it’s two years out of date!” Sarah laughed.
   More beers were handed around and the party began. Sarah dished up the thick stew that smelled heavenly and tasted exotically; Lee was the first to finish and asked for more, which he got. More beers popped and a crate soon was empty, the second started. Drinking, eating, having a laugh and target practise with an old .22 air rifle, dated 1928!  
   Red stacked up empty beer cans on the wall and dared anyone to drink a beer in one go and to hit five cans without a single miss. No easy feat as the gun was only single shot.
   John shot first after downing a beer in seconds but he missed due to belching loudly, his whole body rocking like a drunken policeman. His remaining shots got three tins, not bad but not good. He passed the gun to Lee so he could get more stew and a pint glass of moonshine and watched Lee from the corner of his eye. John paused in mid drink, then spoke, “Hey, you’ve not said what we’ll get if someone gets five hits? What do we get?”
   “Well…” Red commented stumped on this one.
   “I know what you will get, anyone who gets five cans in a row,” Sarah said slyly smiling. She disappeared inside a moment while Lee got all five empty cans. He whooped in joy, beat that lads! Red got two, the worst performance due to his beer intake. Gun Barrel joined Lee in five. Sarah’s go now…
   “C’mon gal, it’s your turn. Show us lads how it’s done,” Red shouted.
   “Hang on a minute lads, I’ll give you your prizes in a sec,” Sarah replied.

my webs.com site link

http://nickarmbristerwriter.webs.com/

JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX NEW POEMS ON PHOTOS














Monday 24 October 2016

Europa One Ebook – In the Dark Valley Between the World Wars By Nick Armbrister, Andy N

Lorraine
The bayonet. I've had it a decade. There's provenance here... not written I'm afraid. My mate Richard, who I went to school with in 82-87, had a lovely sister, Lorraine, from a different dad.
He was a soldier in the British army. He's dead now. He collected weapons, guns and bayonets. His wife asked Richard what to do with them. Some guns were real. I said tell any coppers the guns are replicas or deactivated. I had the bayonet.
The story... the soldier, my mate’s stepdad, was in combat in the (Alsace) Lorraine area of France. A huge battle was fought here. Many were killed on both sides. Alsace/Lorraine was part of France, then Germany, finally France, in this fight and in history. There's even a cross of Lorraine.http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister-and-andy-n/europa-one-ebook-in-the-dark-valley-between-the-world-wars/ebook/product-22907637.html

Sunday 23 October 2016

Thesis


Thesis
The teenage child went to his friend's to do his thesis.
This was the excuse for everything and anything.
Drinking lots of dirty beer.
Consuming two bottles of brandy.
Smoking fucking weed.
If it's going to the strip club to get laid.
Or to the tattooist for underage ink.
Or having sex with his friend's mum's sister.
Or going on a road trip in a stolen car.
All these and more are classed as thesis.
I wonder if I can get away with it?
Doing my theses.
Off to see my mistress!

Thesis, an excuse for all things nawty.

The Rantings of a Damaged Mind - A Collection of Thoughts, Poetry and Verse

https://www.amazon.com/Rantings-Damaged-Mind-Collection-Thoughts-ebook/dp/B00JBOFZGA/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&qid=1477259639&sr=8-8&keywords=nick+armbrister


THE RANTINGS OF A DAMAGED MIND: A Collection of Thoughts, Poetry and Verse is Nick Armbrister's new poetry book jointly written with poetess Mel Grobler. Poetry includes light and dark work covering human emotions and relationships, the death of a northern town and mental health issues to name a few topics. Make up your own minds on this hard hitting and unique book of modern poetry for modern people. From Nick's work about England and his life to Mel Grobler's touching poetry from half a world away (South Africa), this is a book with a difference. It's about the human journey of life, told by two writers who are at opposite ends of the earth. The result is here, a collection of memorable poetry.

Friday 21 October 2016

Pop Them Out

Pop Them Out
The pretty sexy young lady was just that.
Pretty small sexy and also small.
Well how the fuck did she have 3 baby lizards?
Pop pop pop.
Who are now all grown up and big?
Pop pop pop.
They all popped out of her tight pussy.
Pop pop pop.
Oh my fucking sweet Lord Jesus.
Pop pop pop.
Praise the Lord! Oh oh oh!
Pop pop pop.
A divine miracle oh yes yes yes.
Pop pop pop.
The three kids popped out of her pussy.
Pop pop pop.
The best biologics there is next to aliens motherfuckers.
Pop pop pop.
Abducting three generations and getting them preggers.
Pop pop pop.
But a good old shag feels the best.
Pop pop pop.
Even if it costs the damn world for three sprogs.
Pop pop pop.
One fact remains: those are my lizards.

Pop pop pop.

Wednesday 19 October 2016

Europa One Ebook – In the Dark Valley Between the World Wars By Nick Armbrister, Andy N

http://www.lulu.com/shop/nick-armbrister-and-andy-n/europa-one-ebook-in-the-dark-valley-between-the-world-wars/ebook/product-22907382.html



Ebook version with added poems to compliment the hard copy version. This is a book about anti war poetry but North West of England Writers, Andy N (author of 'Return of Kemptown' and co author of 'A means to an End) and Nick Armbrister (author of various books) who have fused together a short collection of poetry tackling the way war affects the ordinary man and woman. A follow up collection, Europa 2, will follow in 2017 with new work by both authors.

Tuesday 18 October 2016

Haiku Yellow by PJ Reed Review by Nick Armbrister

Haiku Yellow by PJ Reed Review by Nick Armbrister

This book is a Haiku poetry anthology written by PJ Reed. The work here is varied and well written. Well written in the sense that the reader is drawn in and experiences the short poems, both as observer and participant. The poems vary greatly and have some excellent feel good lines, eg:

bird songs after rain
a chorus of happiness
the wood is perfumed

Upon reading that, I was in the woods with their fresh leaves with the singing birds and newly opened scented flowers. A place where it is fine to be alone to experience and feel. Here, being alone is positive. Other poems contrast well with that piece. This piece is exceptionally nice:

from darkness hidden
the shy moon appears and smiles
my soul companion

Again the reader is there to both see and feel the darkness of the winter disappear when the moon is there. Like spring bursting forth. Is this intentional? The seeing and feeling?

Other work leaves the reader no time to dwell or wonder. Or do they? What of unmade decisions and their consequences, wafting away on the clouds after much deliberation? The reader can only imagine the decisions and outcomes, good or bad (…watch decisions best unmade/chase empty clouds).

Haiku Yellow is an internal and external journey. The season is spring, the poems have observations that the reader must find and feelings to make them think then become one with the poems.

My favourite piece is this one:

night time once more and
lonely moon asks for a friend
my bed lies empty

The natural world and writer's personal world collide/join/are as one. Nighttime beauty is there but so is desolation and loneliness. Is there a plea or invitation here? To join the writer to banish loneliness? Is the writer remembering an old flame or yearning for a new one? Myself, I relate to this.

Simple watercolours and photos of flowers and trees break up the poems and add character and imagery to the book. The reader is left in no doubt that Mother Nature's world is central here. When her world interacts with the human world it can be sad and very real (poor yellow flower/stands tall in her concrete crack/is this poverty). This piece has the 80s written all over it and all it stood for; mostly working class deprivation, striking miners, opposing mindsets and East v West. It's about the people in Thatcher's Britain, not the flower in my understanding of the poem’s words.

Some of the other poetry capture and compare new spring nature to the freshness of youth. In time, winter and life will defeat both.

Yet more work highlights being a pair (…softly pair of preening doves) yet the writer seems always to be alone (…I am only one). Is this by choice or circumstance?

In these pages are lost love, loneliness, powerful mental pictures, deeper emotional scenes and all that is needed if you live far from the scenes here. If the reader lived in a barren desert then with this book, they're in the spring meadow or flying with the gulls.


An excellent book. Highly recommended for readers of PJ Reed, poetry fans, Haiku lovers and readers in general.

Monday 17 October 2016

PJ Reed Anna story review by Nick Armbrister

PJ Reed Anna story review by Nick Armbrister
Join Anna, a single parent struggling to bring up her kids while holding down a minimum wage night shift job in a store. We find Anna working her shift and looking forward to going home. She day dreams of dating a nice man in a suit, like the well dressed customer who calls in. He's actually an agent checking upon her well being. Is there more to Anna than we can actually see?  She wants such a man. Not a dealer or pimp but a caring man. Her anxiety at work and on leaving is real. Her neighbourhood is trashy, with derelict buildings, young teen thugs in masks, deprivation and not much else but hope.
We feel like we're walking home with Anna. We experience one teen thug rob her at knife point, causing her more anxiety when he steals her kids' chocolate bars; we experience her anxiety like it was our own; we feel out of place normality when the drug dealer/growers house and family is described, at how their daughter plays normally in the street; we see body parts on a fence; and two people, the masked teen and an old woman, sat still on a couch, dead? Anna is linked to this. But why? What did she do? Who is she?

It's Halloween and it plays with Anna's head. For good reason. The drug growing family end up in body bags. And the cops take Anna and her kids away. Why? Safety or arrest? Her anxiety and past reliance on meds are a big issue. If she loses it tonight, she can lose her kids. Answers are needed. Will we get them? This is a scene set in a town near you. Reminds me of Oldham.

Days of Thunder

Days of Thunder
We set off from the garage,
me and my co-worker in the cars.
We raced like fuck.
The roads were our race track.

He was in the two litre Ford Sierra estate
and I was in the one point six Orion.
Both were new fast cars.
A joy to drive and be eighteen.

We were taking a works car to a customer,
I’d give my workmate a lift back.
Only it never happened that way.
We chased one another, a game of chicken.

Breaking the speed limit and laws.
Why should we care?
We can and do what we want.
I swear I wanted to do a hundred.

See the needle way up the dial.
Feel the acceleration and turn up the radio.
Miles ticked by in seconds.
There were no speed cameras back then.

I was young and that way inclined.
With a host of issues and attitude to match.
It happened past Ashton at a roundabout.
Bang! I went into the back of him.

Braking almost as hard as I could.
Not enough! Frontal impact, a touch to the right.
Bonnet up to the windscreen, front end fucked.
Bust radiator, water pissing out, smashed right side headlamp.

His Sierra was fine,
it had a tow bar bolted to the chassis.
The cover for the electric plug came off.
₤5 damage compared to ₤1600.

Me and my workmate almost had a fight and bad words were said.
We had a lot of issues, me and that guy.
He got whiplash, pay back for his evil words to me.
Karma boy, don’t you know?

Be nice to Jimmy or else.
The trip to the customer was aborted.
Back to the garage and report the incident.
Time to lie like hell.

Fill in accident form.
Were you racing?
No.

What speed were you doing?
30mph.

Did you break the speed limit?
No.

Did your workmate keep touching his brakes?
No.

Right, you’re fired!
Thank fuck I’m not fixing cars.
I hated the job and worked with a load of bastards.
Not the job for me.

Though I learnt how to fix cars.
The guy I hit saw my accident form.
We almost had a fight on what I wrote!
He obviously never liked my words!

And the truth fucking hurt like his whiplash.
My dad took a life insurance policy out on me!
My son is crazy and drives too fast.
When will he learn his lesson?

I still street raced and drove fast.
Till another crash almost killed me.
I was racing again on my own.
An old guy hit me from the side.

I almost spun into oncoming traffic.
It’s the one you don’t see that gets you.
That finally taught me,
slow the fuck down!


Whacky Races

Whacky Races
Every male teenager loves to drive fast.
Whether or not they’ve got a licence.
Imagine being eighteen years old,
out of control and driving cars fast.
This was me, way back in 1990.

I worked at a Ford garage in Rochdale.
I was a young wild tearaway with a fucked up life.
When I got into any car it was pedal to the metal.
And the stereo on full listening to my tunes.
Don’t you know I loved goth, 80s and metal?

No one will get in my way, screw you!
It was race race race and crash crash crash.
How many crashes?
Less than the races.

Looking back over the decades,
I realize how mad I was.

One time, I was racing a guy on a scrambler bike.
We all worked together and it was home time!
Full speed ahead!

I saw him jump a small hump back bridge.
So did I in my Vauxhall Chevette.
Then I saw the road junction!
I was on my breaks in mid-air.

Don’t hit the bike, my workmate shouted.
I steered into the back of a car and hit it,
while colliding with the bike.
I gave them both a kiss!

The guy on the bike went da-dump!
when I bumped his real wheel and bent his mudguard.
The car I hit was a beauty, a restored red Mark 2 Ford Escort.

I felt guilty hitting that, it was a work of art.
But I worked at a Ford garage and could get new parts.
My mate said, Say something.
Shit, I’ve had a crash!

Then an undercover CID blue Cavalier car sped past us!
The cop driving it saw me and shook his head and was gone.
The storeman in the garage gave me a left side light, not right.
Silly boy!

I broke my car’s headlamp and bent the bumper.
Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.

My other crashes included hitting a white Vauxhall Astra GTE.
I was going down Bullcote Lane in my dad’s Lada estate.
It was so steep and narrow.

Great for dangerous high speed driving!
My mirror went all the way down the Astra’s side.

I floored it and sped away.
He was stationery in the road.
I also hit a parked up old Mk2 Escort at night.
I repaired my car with masking tape and black spray paint.

My most dangerous and famous crash was in a works car.
And cost me my job and almost my life.

I was eighteen years old and indestructible.

Friday 14 October 2016

PARODY OF THE DOG by JIMMY BOOM SEMTEX

Parody of the Dog

Jimmy Boom Semtex


Copyright Jimmy Boom Semtex 2016 all rights reserved.
Only a single paragraph maybe reproduced for reviewing purposes. In any article list Jimmy Boom Semtex as author.
ISBN: 978-1-326-55562-7
Cover photo off dreamstime.com.

                       

 

Bunker Boys

The Neo Soviet was gay. It was against protocol. If his leader, Pug, found out, he was in for the high jump. He bucked in hot cop drag for his male lover. The other wore Nazi uniform with all the trimmings. Come and get me big boy. I'm all yours!
Both young men were happy. They played about and mouthed, I love you! to each another. Outside of the bunker, the war continued. Cold War Part Two with NATO. But war was not on the minds of the young conscript soldiers. Making love and being in love was. Fuck the war and their evil tyrannical leader, Pug.
"Hey bro, what do you think Pug would do to us if he saw us making out? Do you think he would use his Judo on us or have us shot for dressing like this?" Ivan commented, holding his lover's hand and kissing him.
The other teenager, Piotr, looked into space then answered, "I think Pug would join us. To see what it's like. Then he'd kill us. I don't think it matters if he liked it or not. He doesn't like what we both stand for. It's not Russian. And that is what Pug hates. As for our sexy outfits..."
"Russian and Russia is a state of mind. If we say we are Russian then that is what we are, Russian. So what if we're gay? At the end of the day, we're still Russian. That matters to me. We were born here. As for him joining us, are you mad? And he'd hate our outfits even more." Ivan shook his head in disbelief.
"I'm not sure I'd agree there. He would hate us and anything to do with being gay. Of course he would. As for being Russian, that's crap. Russians respect strong alpha males who like fighting, women and vodka. We're the opposite of that. Well, except the vodka. I'm sure he would enjoy having his cock sucked, by either a guy or a gal. That's enjoyment. Then, being in charge, he makes us disappear. Simple as that."
"Do you think that it matters because we're both Russian? Pug would treat us like some Yankee enemy scum and kills us. Being gay is the exact reason for that. He wouldn't ever join us. It's a stupid idea. As is another man touching him."
The other laughed and rolled his eyes. He silenced Piotr with a luscious kiss and held him close, rubbing his balls and grinning. They became a tangle of arms, legs, tongues and more. Watching out for an American or NATO infantry attack could wait. The steel blast door was locked from the inside and there was an hour till the next radio check.
All those sexy enemy soldiers making friends with us Neo Soviet Russians. They're alpha males I'd entertain. Big sexy butch NATO soldiers. I bet they would love our uniforms. The smart Nazi and the sexy motorcycle cop...

To Search   

Both soldiers hid in plain sight, in the Red Army. If they were caught, it was a death sentence but that didn't bother them. They were smart kids and loved a challenge. A challenge like meeting NATO soldier/s to drink vodka with. As simple as that. No spying, no fighting, no killing, no war, just drinking and a laugh. If they were lucky, the NATO soldier/s might be gay. If not, it was drinking time. All NATO troops drank.
It was time to do the radio check. Piotr handled this. He gave their call sign and a status report. They reported every fifteen minutes past the hour. This made it easier to confuse any listening enemy who had cracked the unique hourly encryption codes. Then Ivan and Piotr crept outside for an hour of freedom. They used the secret entrance underneath the bunker to 'escape'. It was a short distance to the NATO front lines.
Ivan saw their prize. He nodded and pointed. In front of them was a NATO soldier, clearly visible against the snow. The man was huge; towering over six feet tall and weighing a hundred plus kilos. He would do. Sadly, he was alone. The soldier was pissing against a Christmas tree. When he had done, he shook the drips off his cock. Piotr saw his chance.
"Here, let me do that. You need to dry your penis or urine can freeze on it and give you frostbite. You really don't want that. Igor in our squad had that, he almost lost his bell end."
The NATO soldier zipped his flies up, grabbed his rifle and dove into a snow ditch. Luckily it wasn't the one he'd just pissed in. "Shit! Neo Soviets! Halt or I'll shoot!"
"We don't mean you any harm. We need a drinking partner. We get so board and lonely in our bunker. You can shoot us but not with that big rifle. Maybe with something else?" Ivan quietly replied. It was so easy to set the front off, especially at night. There had been enough recent killing.
"Yes man, relax. We mean you no harm. We have vodka. Our own and some we stole from the officer's ration. Fresh in from Moscow," Piotr added. "Come and join us for the night."
"Join you? You're my enemy! How do I know that you won't kidnap me or shoot me? You're probably lying to me," the 'enemy' soldier challenged. His assault rifle covered the two Neo Soviet men.
"We will show you. Follow us to our bunker. We enter by a secret way. Our vodka is there. Keep your gun on us. If we run or try anything funny, shoot us."
"Piotr. He could kill us! Are you serious? Look, this is a silly idea and dangerous. I want to go back."
"Comrade Ivan, we've come this far. Do you want us to return and drink alone?"
"I don't know. I..."
"Ok. I'll go. I'll cover you. If you run, I shoot. I could do with some vodka. I'm sick of freezing my butt off guarding my trench. The others will be asleep and won't miss me." The NATO soldier nodded and indicated 'move' with his gun.
Piotr smiled and grabbed Ivan's arm. He led the way back to the bunker. The NATO soldier followed at a safe distance.

Close Combat

"Mr NATO Soldier, you have such a lovely butt!" Ivan lost his shyness and slapped the 'enemy's' backside.
"Thank you. I work out twice a day. Even in the trench. This vodka is good!" the NATO soldier replied, taking a long pull from the bottle.
"Only the best. Liberated from our officers' ration," Ivan said, taking a drink from the bottle when it was passed to him.
"Cheers comrade," Piotr commented, taking his turn. "Men who drink vodka from bottles or jam jars are all equal. Everyone is invited for we all bleed red."
"Very very true. Pass the bottle. So what do you both do for fun here then? When you're not guarding Mother Russia from the enemy NATO hordes?"
"What do we do?" Ivan looked at Piotr, who met his eyes and then nodded. "We make love, dress up and kiss one another."
The NATO soldier would have fallen off his char, if he had been sat in one. He was leant against the cold concrete wall. "Bloody hell! You do what?"
"It's as Ivan says," Piotr confirmed.
"In that case, you better show me."
"We will do."
The two Neo Soviet soldiers, now slightly drunk and very flirty, dressed up as Playboy Bunny girls. They weren't shy at stripping naked in front of a stranger. If anything, it added to their eroticism.
"Go down on all fours and I'll take you both from behind," the NATO soldier said.
Piotr and Ivan looked at one another then nodded. They did as asked, on all fours with their butts invitingly on show.
"Fantastic," the NATO man observed. "Target in sight."
"Take me now," Ivan replied.
"Then me! Violate my airspace," Piotr added, with an erotic grin. He opened a new bottle of officer's vodka and took a swig and passed the bottle.
The NATO soldier had a long drink and mounted Ivan then popped his medium size tool up Ivan's back passage. A bit of lubricant made it easy. He began pumping away.
"You sure feel good. Are all Neo Soviet troops this good?"
"You bet Mr NATO Soldier," Ivan whispered. "Just wait till you penetrate Piotr's defences."
"Oh my, I can't wait!" The NATO man spent a couple of minutes with Ivan and then took his comrade from behind. It was a nice experience.
"You feel just the right size," Piotr laughed, enjoying the rear action. The NATO opponent was doing his job, his energetic strokes gave the Russian what he wanted. To add to his joy, NATO wanked off his lover. Nice and slow. Like a stealth night attack.
The military operation continued till it was radio time. The NATO soldier came all over both Neo Soviet back sides. He had them both and was the winner. His hand action made them both cum like it was a cluster bomb attack. It was a messy scene. Neo Soviet spunk was everywhere. The bunker looked like a war zone. Erotic style. The bunny girl outfits were strewn on the floor.
It was a night of heady sex and drinking. When it was over the Neo Soviet lovers escorted their NATO warrior safely to his lines. If possible, they would meet up again. NATO and the Neo Soviet empire were friendly that night. Would it always remain so? Time would always tell.

Sky Girl

Diane flew her updated Northrop F-20 Tigershark. She had just shot down three of the vaunted Sukhoi Su-35 Super Flankers. Easy as taking sweets off a baby. This updated Tigershark is awesome. The Asian Babes sure got it right. Best 'shark ever.
NATO had fielded the best warplane ever built. Admittedly, it was an improvement over the earlier F-20 models, of which ten thousand were built in four versions. Versions five and six were perfect. Hundreds had already been made and thousands more ordered. America/NATO would clear the enemy Neo Soviet jets from the sky.
Suddenly Diane's threat warning gear beeped and an audio voice chimed in her headphones, Enemy jet spotted... It gave the heading, speed and altitude. A few seconds later, the type: another Su-35. The target indication appeared on her Helmet Mounted Sight when she turned her head and also her wide angle radar's scope. Then, turning her jet, it appeared on her Head Up Display. She increased power and felt her plane surge forward, powered onwards to battle by an F414 EPE engine. The computer armed the remaining missiles and Diane monitored it. Perfect, saved me several seconds selecting BVR missiles just then. Good, good, good...
"Here we go mother fucker. Hammer time," Diane commented, moving her Helmet Sight in perfect alignment with her enemy. "Fox Three!" A single fire and forget radar guided Meteor missile was on the way. She violently turned away from her enemy and dropped chaff and flares to decoy any enemy missiles; there were none. Her digital jammer wasn't even needed. In seventeen seconds, the Neo Soviet Super Flanker ceased to exist.
"Hope I killed the pilot. His Mamushka will be sad but fuck her. Less pilots to face NATO." Diane grinned and half rolled her F-20E upside down and headed to the ground. She was the best, a double ace. Ten kill markings, soon eleven, attested to that.

Killer Maiden's De-briefing

After her battle, Diane debriefed then showered. Before sleeping, she popped over to see her lover. He was a computer programmer, fighting the Neo Soviets in cyberspace. Right now it time for a shag. Diane took a cock ring along. This would make her man stay hard longer.
"Hi my dream lover, how are you?" Diane greeted John, her casual lover. He let her into his small air force issue room.
"I'm good. I've missed you. Good mission?" They embraced and kissed.
"Yes, one of the best yet. I splashed four Super Flankers. A piece of cake. Your new missile software improved my kill probability. Not a single missile missed." She grinned and clapped her hands in glee.
He whistled and kissed her again. "Good to hear. Another victory for the good guys."
"Yes, another victory. Look, I brought you this." Diane gave John her gift.
"Wow, a cock ring. Cool!" John accepted it and held it up to the low power ceiling light. The platinum ring glistened in the bad light. "It looks very pretty and strong."
"You think so? Great. We've never tried one."
"We soon will baby. I'll make you a coffee, after that we can try it.
After the coffees they fucked. The cock ring was a real winner. John came three times and remained hard throughout. It was like he was the NATO Tigershark, always attacking and up for a fight. Winning every time. Their sex lasted for four hours.
Diane was done in. I'm feeling all in after the mission and all this fucking. It really works. He's stayed hard all the bloody time. I should have brought the cock ring on my mission free day...

The Missileers

The American Asian Babes had upgraded the Tigershark so she was wonderfully capable. This included an F414 EPE engine. EPE stood for Enhanced Performance Engine. It gave 20% more thrust than the normal engine. It was the best in its class, 26,400lb in full afterburner.
There were three Asian Babes: Kas, Olla and Lann. They made aeroplanes, missiles and other cool stuff and also liked sex. Lots of it with other people.                             
Kas stood in front of her lover and said, "Smell this love."
He felt her move his head to her panties as she lifted up her dress. He sniffed her panties. They smelled of lilac conditioner. His eyes traced the outline of her pubic stubble, faintly visible. Her tanned skin was appealing, as was the raised skirt.
"My panties smell good?"
"Yes, they do dear. They smell of lilac," her lover replied.
"Make love to me."
"Yes my Asian beauty."
When they had sex, it was way more than that.

Shop Time

Olla was in the supermarket. She was walking along, doing her shopping. Her cowboy boots clip clapped on the tiled floor. The black figure hugging jeans she wore were very stylish. Suddenly, Olla shrieked and jumped into the air, dropping her shopping basket. A green apple rolled out of it. She bent down to pick it up and looked about, sheepishly, then continued shopping. A minute later, in the tinned section while getting baked beans, it happened again; she leapt into the air and screamed. Other shoppers looked about and stared at her, noticing her odd behaviour. When she started laughing and grabbing her crotch, a young female store assistant called security. They thought she was on drugs.
"Have you taken any drugs, miss?" the security guard asked.
"No, I haven't. I don't do drugs. I'm a good girl," Olla replied.
"Ok. Well, I need you to..." He didn't finish his sentence. The crazy woman jumped into the air again and shouted.
"That feels so bloody good!" she screamed, rubbing her pussy.
"Right, get out of this store now! If you don't leave, I'll call the police." The guard grabbed Olla's arm and she went mental. She jumped up and down, ran about and laughed so much. Then she fell to the floor and climaxed. Her sighs and groans got everybody's attention. Including her boyfriend, who waited in the next aisle. He triggered a remote control, much like a small TV one. It controlled the battery powered love balls that were inside Olla's pussy. When turned on, they vibrated and gave instant pleasure. Orgasm was only a few jolts away.
"Are you coming," asked the female store assistant. "Oh my God, you are!"
"Yes, I am. Oh my, this feels so good. I wish you could join me... ah, oh, dear God... oh, oh, ah!"
"I'd lose my job. I've never had an orgasm before." The girl looked all of her young eighteen years but it was clear that she was open minded.
"I want... to show... you how..." Olla looked up at the assistant and grinned.
"Meet me by the clock tower tomorrow at midnight. I must go now."
The security guard had long since disappeared and the distant sound of police sirens brought sudden awareness. The boyfriend clicked OFF on his remote and killed the balls then ran over to Olla, who was sprawled on the tiles. He lifted her up and carried her, fireman style, out of the store's rear entrance. "Time to leave babe. How was it?"
"It was fucking amazing," Olla whispered, still half in ecstasy. "I came three times. My panties are all wet. The sexy young girl assistant wants to learn how to cum. "
"Fantastic, I bet you'll show her. We'll hide here, in the alleyway round the corner. They'll never think to look here." It was dark in the alley and smelled of urine and decaying rubbish.
"Gonna meet her by the clock tower tomorrow. Come along if you want. Fuck me now baby," the aroused girl commented.
"You bet I will, on both."
Her boyfriend triggered the love balls again and she instantly came. He stifled her shouts and groans, not wanting to be caught by the cops. Quickly, he undid Olla's jeans and his own. Carefully he removed the sodden love balls and put them into his jacket pocket. Pussy juice and cum was everywhere. His cock was hard. It fit right inside her pussy and they fucked away like they'd just broken the law.
"We must do this again. It was awesome. Oh that feels so damn good... Fuck me baby. Fuck me."
"We'll do it again tomorrow. Oh Olla, you're so tight..."

Clock Time

By the old clock tower, the slim shop assistant waited. Olla and her boyfriend walked over and greeted her. She joined them and they went to the market. It was quiet there. A good place to have sex and teach a young lady how to cum.
Olla's boyfriend had friction burns on his knees from fucking the young shop assistant, called Emma, from behind. He gasped like an injured man and fucked her like a dog. She whispered some unknown person's name over and over. It was obvious she was coming and enjoying it. It hadn't taken long for her to learn.
She did a sixty nine with Olla. It was quick and dirty. Then it was fingering time. One, two then three fingers were shoved up the girl's cunt. She was tight but was soon opened up. When both ladies kissed, it was superb. No lessons were needed there. The night was young and other varied sex acts lessons were on the curriculum. The student was very willing...

Sluttish

Lann was on her back and being teased. A man she picked up in a heavy metal bar was being naughty. He rubbed his cock on her pussy, over the lips and to her clit. His meaty cock greased Lann's lush cunt.
"Oh you bad man. I want you inside of me. Now!"
"You must wait," the man replied, rubbing his huge erection up and down.
"Fucking hell, I'm coming!" And she did. Lots of white discharge appeared. Her sighs were all it took to make her lover act. He shoved his cock into her and they fucked like animals.
"Ah! You fucking bitch! You feel so good. Keep coming babe. Fucking hell."
Lann moaned and closed her eyes. She was pounded by the monster cock and placed her legs either side of his shoulders. He held on with one hand, slowly caressing her petite legs with the other. Her body was a work of art. Living, erotic, fuckable art. The noises she made were equal to any opera or divine comedy.
"I'm there," Lann stammered. Her cum spurted out in a stream all over his belly and pubes. Her one night stand rubbed his fingers in it and tasted it.
"You taste good. I could do this all night, Lann."
"What about your wife? Will she be suspicious?"
"Yes, she will. I'll say I'm with her sister."
"You fuck her sister?"
"Yes. I've fucked her for three years. My wife lets me."
"You should bring the sister up. We can have a threesome. What's your name by the way?"
"I will, next week. I'm Les. Don't forget to give me your number..."
Lann nodded and they continued to fuck. It would be something to look forward to and gossip for her Asian Babe lady friends.

Showtime

Lerma was up for it. She was on a role and getting plenty of it. It was easy to get and she was always in demand. Right now, she was balanced on a massive shiny table, on all fours. Pug was violating her from behind. His minions of Neo Soviet slaves did his dirty work while he, the leader of the evil empire, did as he pleased. This included fucking Lerma from behind. With a twang, he pulled her bikini bottoms to one side and slid his small size cock home. Doggy style was Pug's favourite position. He was in charge and always got his way. That is till he was whipped and beaten unconscious by his humble cleaning lady. Lerma had a mean right hook.
"That's right, fuck me. Take me now!" Lerma screamed, looking back over her shoulder.
"Shut the fuck up bitch and take the pounding!" Pug replied, slapping Lerma's firm round arse. He left a vivid red mark.
Her green jealous eyes glared at her leader. "Keep that up and I may like it..."
"That's the idea. For now, I'll settle for your tight pussy. Then suck me."
"Yes Pug. You're my master."
"Don't ever forget it! Ok bitch, I want you to scream. Long and loud."
"Yes master." Lerma took a deep breath and screamed long and hard. Pug slapped her butt again and increased his speed. His balls slapped against her. Again she screamed.

Evil Central

In Moscow it was sunny but cold. Snow was underfoot. In Lerma's bath there were plenty of bubbles. She was acting all shy for Pug. He grinned madly when he saw her big wobbling tits, covered in bubblebath.
"I'm going to send you to the Gulag for looking so fucking sexy!" Pug exclaimed, climbing into the bath to join his wench. Water overflowed onto the rich mauve carpet.
"I was hoping you would. I've been naughty. The Gulag sounds just about right..." Lerma lifted up a breast and pretended to kiss it. Bubbles dribbled off it. She splashed more onto it and her chest.
"You naughty bitch..."
"Yes master."
Pug chased her around the huge bath tub. He slipped on the soap and went underwater. Lerma grabbed him and held him under for thirty seconds. When he surfaced he was red in the face and cursing in Russian. She grabbed his cock and wanked it. It was soon hard. He got his breath back and attempted to kiss the buxom woman. Jokingly, she pushed him away and then yanked him forward by his dick. He screamed more oafs.
They fucked in the tub, at times hidden by the thick stream of bubbles. The water was always running. Bubbles burst forth like chemical weapons gassing the enemy. Pug was a strong and potentially violent man but of limited experience in sexual matters. Yet he gave as good as he got. He slapped Lerma's curvy butt and rubbed her thighs. She groaned with pleasure.
"Kiss me," she commented. Pug did so. She mounted him and held him above water so he wouldn't go under.
"Oh babe," Pug sighed. He came in an understatement of action. Their sex action was over.
"Is that it? Make me cum!" the bossy woman exclaimed. He rapidly nodded, knowing he had no choice.
It took ten minutes for the second most powerful man in the world to make his mistress climax. He used his hand, fingers, tongue and cock. When she climaxed, she shouted and half deafened the Neo Soviet war boss. He was about to slap her but then he saw her glare; it was enough to melt Siberian ice...

Bomb Time

In war people often did mad things. Like having sex in a bomb factory. This is what two young people did in the middle of an air raid. Sirens and explosions added to their delight. They were called Inky and Minky and both were typical citizens of either warring side. Sex, drinking, watching TV and other pleasures were amongst their hobbies. Being twin sister also had its advantages; they always got their own way.
Sharing the same look was cool. Blond hair, cut short, gave an urban look, as did brown eyes and pale skin. Strangers thought their skin was artificially pale; it was all natural. They were a little over five feet tall, slim, with big breasts and of muscular build. Again, all natural. Plastic tits were for freaks. Their names were given at birth, with no family name. The Mother, now dead, had been a tattooist who slept about. The twins didn't share mum's inky passion but they liked men with tattoos. In fact, they liked any man with a working cock and will to use it.
Being an identical twin got each individual girl out of trouble. It was harder to find the culprit, for example, if one had shagged a married man who had a jealous wife. The twin named Inky had done just that. When the angry wife called at their small flat, she didn't know whom to blame, so blamed both.
Minky picked up an unfired Armour Piercing 20MM cannon shell, complete with alloy case. She passed the heavy shell to Inky and said, "There you go dear sister. Put it up my pussy. And fuck me."
"Ok dear sister. My oh my, that's a big weapon. I wonder if it'll fit," Inky replied, grinning terribly.
Minky opened her legs and smiled. Her smooth hairless thighs led up to the magic golden glory hole. The shell nudged her labia and slowly entered. Like a nuclear submarine entering its lair. It fit perfectly. "Look at that. Now fuck me with it babe."
"You bet I will." The other twin did just that, fucked her sister with a live cannon shell.
The twin being penetrated by the shell played with her nipples and rubbed her breasts. Groans filled the small production area. The enclosed concrete room gave good protection and privacy and had a door that locked from the inside. It was locked now. Not even the muted missile explosions and firing guns distracted the twins.
Both girls kissed. Sensually and slow down till you die type kissing. If an enemy smart bomb came through the toughened roof, they would die happy.
"Rub my clit too baby," the cannon shell taking twin whispered, amongst kisses.
"Mmm," was her reply.
The other tickled her twin's clit and rubbed the delicate area. Her pussy was bald and a work of art. A living feeling fucking cannon shell engorging masterpiece. This feels so damn good. I wish we never had to make a thousand of these shells. Who cares about using them on combat to kill the enemy? Invite the enemy here for a damn good sex party. Oh what joy...
It took a few short minutes for the receiver to climax. Her screams drowned out the distant explosions and roar of low level jet engines. Even when a near miss shook the room, making dust fall from the ceiling, the receiver didn't stop screaming. Her breathing was raw and her face red. The red of a bomb blast or the blood of life.
"Mother fucker! That was awesome. You made me cum twice Inky dear."
"I bet you enjoyed it. It's your turn to make me cum now." Minky swapped places with Inky and now became the receiver. Outside, the air and missile attack continued. The shell glistened with pussy juice, as did the floor and the other's lovely thighs.
"Here we go Inky. Standby to get fucked..."
"Bring it on baby. It was good we've already completed our work quota."
"Yes it is. Who wants war when we can make love? Fuck the war."
"Oh babe. Look at my pussy..."

Gold Girl Guy

Her lover picked her up and put her legs over his shoulders, so she was facing him. She held onto his head. He got to work, licking her pussy. It was right up to his face. He sneezed twice when her long untrimmed pubic hair tickled his nose and nearly dropped her. She muttered, 'Don't drop me,' and he made a noise in reply.
His tongue worked over her clit and she squirmed then mewed. A long drawn out sound of utter delight. No other woman in the world made that sound. It made her special. He moved his head in circles and lapped away with his ample sized tongue. She came quickly and begged for more. He walked over to the wall for his shoulders were cramping up. Gently, he leant against the mauve wallpaper and kept on licking. She kept on mewing. This went on for another ten minutes. Then they fucked.
The girl fucked like a rabbit who had just eaten a fake carrot made of the holy green weed. She went at it at hyper velocity. Oddly, she mewed like a cat on each out breath. The sex didn't last long. After they'd done, the couple separated and cleaned their bits. The man wiped cum off his cock with tissue. His lover's juices were already drying on his tool. He'd need to wash his it. Even though they were alone in the luxurious house, out of habit he put on his dark blue shorts. Some of his lover's dry cum wiped onto the material; it left a smudge. He looked at it and brushed it off. It was like 'blond powder dust' and caught the light. Examining his dick, he saw it all over the shaft, his balls and thighs.   
"My solid gold lover. Your cum is all on my cock and balls," he laughed.
His lover looked up and put her own tissue down. "Oh my fucking God. Look in the mirror," she blushed, her cheeks went scarlet.
The man did so and smirked. Dry cum covered his face. It was golden in colour. "Who needs gold and jewels when I have my one and only golden girl with golden cum? Fuck a golden duck, I love you..."
"I'm worth more than all the precious things in the world," she commented, hiding behind her hands. "I won't say what it's like, with your spunk inside me. Come on, let's shower."
"I'm up for a shower my love. Wash that cum out of you. We can make love in the shower..."
"Then I'll need another shower!" she glowered and threw her used blob of tissue at him. He agilely batted it away.
"Then I'll wash you down myself, from your back to your pussy." Her lover slapped her sexy butt. She screamed and ran to the bathroom; he followed. His cock was going hard again and bulged in his shorts.
"I'm hard again, look..."
"Oh not again!" she giggled.
The sound of running water hid her laughter and his randy comments. They needed to talk about the terror network they funded but it could wait. The war was literally going nowhere. Their plans would hopefully change that and cripple the enemies ability to transport his men and materiel. Time was on their side. Another sex session was fine.

Nuclear Denis

Denis worked in a secret factory that made nuclear warheads for NATO at a secret location. It was so secret he always got lost on the way to work. This is why he had a secret live in robot called Fiona. Fiona also worked in the factory, making secret nuclear weapons. She was in charge of quality control and made sure Denis did a good job. Her other job was to keep Denis safe, for he was a nuclear physicist and was a national asset. As was Fiona and the factory. Unlike her human counterpart, the lady robot was skilled in fifty six types of Martial Arts. She had been made in Japan and also had another secret skill: she was a fuckbot. Fiona did anything in bed, from sucking, fucking, being tied up, getting spanked with a broom, doing kinky sex, having threesomes and anything else. The only thing she wouldn't do was have sex with an animal. It was against her programming.
In the secret nuclear bomb factory, appropriately named Secret Nuclear Bomb factory Number 7 (actually factory number one but this was to confuse everybody, not just the enemy), Fiona was in action. Not checking weapon quality, for it had already been checked after it was made, but sucking Denis' dick. He was leant against a newly completed nuclear missile. His trousers were round his ankles and he was red in the face. His eyes were shut and he was murmuring rude words. The Japanese robot nibbled his bell end and scratched his balls.
"Oh Holy Lady of Kazan! What would my Russian Catholic mother think if she could see me now? A Japanese robot sucking my dick... Oh Fiona, that feels so fucking good. Oh my... Don't stop..." Denis whispered, to himself. "It's bad enough I defected and now make bombs for our enemy. Bombs which will kill my fellow Russians. But Pug and his Neo Soviet slaves started this war... I had to defect... Oh Fiona, that feels so fucking good... Oh..."
"Glad to be of service," Fiona robotically answered, even though her mouth was full.
"Oh suck me dry..."
"Yes. I will comply and suck you dry."
Five minutes flew by and then Denis shot his load. Fiona sucked him dry, licked his cock and balls clean. When she had finished, there wasn't a drop of spunk anywhere. She would reprocess his semen and use it for fuel in her energy cell.
"Fiona, stand facing the nuclear bomb and bend over. I'll fuck you from behind." Denis wanked his cock to keep it hard. The robot took up position and lifted up her long black skirt. She wore virgin white panties.
"I'm ready to be fucked from behind," she said.
"Good girl. Remove your panties."
"Yes. I will remove my panties." Fiona did so and put them neatly on top of the nuke.
Denis angled his cock and entered her from the rear. He began thrusting away and said more rude things. These included impossible sex acts with nuclear weapons and other unprintable words.
It was quite a scene, the robot being fucked by a Russian defector against the most powerful weapon ever made. Make love not war. I'll back that saying every bloody time, Denis thought, as he started to cum for a second time. He was a robust and highly endowed man from a peasant family. His mother had ten children with his farming father. Tilling the land was second to fucking. Nuclear weapon manufacture was also second place to fucking. Would Denis still fuck the robot if it was male? That was an interesting question.
"Do I satisfy you Denis?" Fiona emotionlessly asked.
"Yes... Yes you do," Denis replied through gritted teeth. He thought rude thoughts and came in all his glory. His screams were like he was being burnt alive by napalm. Intense and memorable.
"Is there anything else that is required of me?"
The human paused and struggled for breath. Finally he answered. "Just get me some tissue and a bottle of vodka please. Antonov. And a tumbler of ice..."
"Consider it done." The nuclear fuckbot put her panties back on, smoothed her skirt down and nodded. She returned in two minutes with tissue and the drink.
"Wonderful. Don't tell the bosses now about our sex or drinking at work. We'll both lose our jobs if they catch us," Denis commented, drawing a line across his throat. With a crack he opened the bottle and poured neat vodka onto the ice and took a gulp. He nodded and took another.
"I won't tell anybody about our fucking or drinking on the job, Denis. I'm glad you like the vodka. Thank you, I would love a drink." Fiona took the offered bottle and had a small sip.
"The best Russian firewater in the world." He drank from the tumbler and motioned for them to both side down. They leant against the one hundred million dollar thermonuclear bomb and he got drunk. Then Fiona would chaperone Denis home after their shift. Such was the work in a nuclear weapons establishment. A world full of secrets, all deniable. Like fucking a robot and drinking on the job.

Swapping Sides

There were four people, two men and two women, who made up two couples. They were called Sean and Rita and Joe and Alison. Their main job was spying on Neo Soviet air bases, missile sites, troop locations and other sensitive war targets. All of them were from England but each was fluent in Russian and easily passed as a Russian national. Their missions took them all over the west of the country, individually, in couples or all together. Sometimes they swapped partners to not arise suspicion of being with the other for too long. This tactic was used to confuse KGB surveillance. But one day, after a mission of spying on a tank factory, they did it for real.
"I've just put the hand written notes into the capsule and attached it to the carrier pigeon. The bird will be in London in three days, all being well," Sean told Rita, who was his wife, and the others.
"Good Sean, the info is not time critical but will be of great interest to London," Rita replied. "We'll go on the next mission, myself and Joe. We'll pretend we're together. Like you two did." She indicated to her partner, Sean, and Alison, who had been his make believe partner on the mission.
"It was a good mission that gave some useful information. Using the old Lada car was a great idea. Talk about being one of the natives," Sean grinned. "Yes, you and Joe are next. Another good idea, pretending we're fake couples."
"Yes, our turn next," Joe added, with a nod.
"It is a good idea. Hey, how about we do it for real? Swap partners in bed and then for real. Who's up for it?" Alison asked with a sly grin. Her three fellow spies and friends gawped at her.
"You serious? Like fuck the other person's partner? And then swap over for good? We can swap back for future missions." Rita broke the shocked silence first.
Alison nodded and winked. Sean looked at her and said, "Well then. You were my pretend girlfriend when we scoped the tank place out. Let's try it, making love. Right now. The others can do it too. Can't you, Rita and Joe? And yes, we can swap back for mission work."
"I'm up for it," Alison confirmed. She got undressed. They all watched her. She led Sean to a large sofa and they got it on.
"Me too. Is that ok love?" Sean replied, then asking his wife. Rita nodded and looked at Joe.
Joe was quiet for a few seconds, obviously thinking. "I'm for it. Come here Rita. Kiss me."
Rita went over to him and joined him on the other sofa. Nothing else had ever occurred in the small low quality Moscow council flat that was their 'home' and base. It was a good job there was no bugs; they swept the flat twice a day, even when they never went outdoors.
They were soon fucking one another's wives. Rita with Joe and Sean with Alison. They were all having adult fun and getting to know one another intimately. After this, they would return to their real partners and fuck, then if all was fine, swap over to be with their new full time partner. The odds were good.
It was a long and heated sex session, with no secrets or inhibitions. Anything went. This was the way when you were on the front line, serving your country in World War 3. At any second, the KGB could kick the door in or blow up the tower block. Killing four enemy spooks was worth the loss of other innocent lives if it meant protecting the Neo Soviet Motherland.

Life Ends?

Life was cheap. Pug knew that. His conventional missile and air attacks against NATO had achieved surprise but not full victory. NATO was fighting back and Neo Soviet losses were mounting. This put Pug in a terrible mood. As did his recent beating by his mistress, Lerma. His whole body ached. The bruises weren't visible. Does anyone suspect? Off to the Gulag if they do.
"I want tactical nuclear missile strikes at NATO bases and barracks. And the following cities hit with big bombs," Pug told his war advisors.
They looked at one another and then nodded. One designated as 'leader' nodded again and confirmed the order. Would this lead to the end?
"Make sure my orders are carried out to the letter. Anyone who fails to follow my orders will be punished, severely." Pug looked at his war staff. Most didn't meet his gaze. Those who did were submissive.
"Yes, Prime Minister," his war slaves replied together.
It didn't really matter what side anyone was on. All of the people were the same. They felt the same emotions and shared similar thoughts. The war didn't care about that. All it was bothered about was killing. And so it continued. Dead leaders were replaced by new ones who vowed total victory and utter annihilation of the enemy. The same old overused lies...