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Vasquez

By PFC Pflege

I stood up, and looked at Vasquez. I liked what I saw. I had already gagged him before I tied his ankles, so there was little left to be done. It was nearly midnight, but the unair-conditioned barracks were very warm from Hawaii’s heat, and it never really cooled off, even after the sun set. Vasquez was lying face up on the foam rubber padding which I kept on my bed.

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