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Skintrooper Bodypile

Expendable Skintroopers win battles by deploying larger numbers. The corpses are piling up beautifully, and despite their heavy losses, the Skintroopers should still win this battle.

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Album name:Meatlover / Battle Babes
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Rating (5 votes):5(Show details)
# of Favorites:7
Ranking:571 - Diamond
Filesize:413 KiB
Date added:Mar 14, 2017
Dimensions:1800 x 1350 pixels
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Comment 1 to 4 of 4
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capricorn   [Mar 16, 2017 at 02:05 am]
Oh yeah! This definitely looks like a terrific victory in the making! Cool Moar!
Stephy.Brooks88   [Mar 23, 2017 at 03:37 pm]
I'm guessing this pile will just keep getting bigger as skin-troopers keep going over to it to see if they can help their friends! They aren't too smart I guess lol... Razz
pistaccio   [Apr 14, 2017 at 03:59 pm]
Lovely pose. The last thing the dying soldier sees is the beautiful buns of a companion's corpse. I could think of far many worse ways to die Wink I'm so glad you have taken up the "warriorwomen slaughtered in action" theme. It's obviously extremely popular considering the hits. Keepit up, maybe with some nice mass battles and some cruel in the crotch and ass shots for extra excitement.
cyke70   [Jun 05, 2017 at 02:52 am]
“Slave! Take 2 squadrons and storm rebel positions in the square from the Northern staircase. And you: do the same from the South! No extra ammo: only what you have in your SMGs! Go!”

The Captain administers orders safely removed from the raging battle in which her young and inexperienced troops are slowly advancing, but at high cost. She intends to create a diversion on the sides in order to send all her reserves to a final and decisive assault in the centre. She is fully aware that the 4 squadrons will be decimated before they get within the effective firing range of Imperial weapons, considerably shorter than the Resistance’s. Hence the wise decision to conserve precious ammunitions.

The loyal and dutiful Skintroopers immediately comply and begin the descent down the two opposite accesses to the square. Immediately the defenders start firing into the ranks of defenseless assailants. Hot bullets penetrate their unprotected soft bodies effortlessly, and the first row drops almost instantly. The riddled units ingloriously roll down the stairs, soon followed by more of their sisters. They desperately return fire, but their shots drop before the intended targets. The rebels, seeing that the attackers are not a threat, stand to take better aim and kill the Imperial whelps more effectively. By the dozens they squeal and drop, sliding down the steep staircase and rapidly accumulating at the bottom, in large and growing piles.
More rebels recklessly join the easy and rightful massacre of those unworthy enemies, neglecting to concentrate their fire on the ever advancing columns in the centre of the square.
So far, they had been able to keep the incessant surge of the Skintroopers at bay, slaughtering them as fast as they advanced, but the reduced rate of fire and the deployment of a battalion of reinforcements turns the tide of the battle. The horde of mindless Imperials floods the square and forces the rebels to abandon their positions. They retreat beyond the eastern city bridge, with the enemy in close pursuit.
When the last rebel is safe, they blow the explosives previously placed under the structure. Hundreds of Skintroopers are already crossing, and those not killed in the explosion end into the shallow river below. The blood of the dead and wounded immediately attracts the long starved population of predators that infest those waters. Immediately they start snaring and feasting on the helpless slaves. The rebels, safely out of firing range, contemplate that magnificent and noble orgy of blood and death. The eerie screams of the young troopers being eaten alive fill the air.
The captain, on the opposite side of the blown up bridge, barely casts a glance at the gruesome carnage below. She is long used to see slews of Skintroopers die in all sorts of manners. Their fate is irrelevant, as their lives are. She can obtain more: she just needs to place an order specifying the number of pieces she lost and needs to replace. She is displeased because victory, which was so close, still eludes her. And for the weapons: those in the square are recoverable but the hundreds ended up into the river are lost. The Governor will fine her by hundreds of credits.

She turns around and slowly stepping among what is left of her once large legion, she mounts her ride.
Then she issues her final orders to the field leader: “Secure the square. Collect weapons. Send enemy corpses to the bio-lab. Dispose of all this sloppy litter: start with the wounded. Don’t bother with incinerators: drop everything into the water… let’s try to save a little fuel to compensate for the loss of weapons!”
“One last thing: fetch the leader of each squad, make it stand by the river bank, cut its belly open and feed it to the reptiles!”
“Aye aye, mistress!”

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