Posted by Jason on June 24, 1999 at 22:59:13:
[Sparky, Part 3 -- Segment 4 of 4.]
Saving the best for last, Sparky crept towards the door marked "Aerobics Room #2." According to the cameras in the control room, that's where the cheerleaders were.
Finding the door slightly ajar, Sparky crouched and snuck into the room, immediately finding cover and hiding behind two large racks of folding chairs. Peering over the chairs, Sparky could not believe his eyes . . . there they were, more than a dozen cheerleaders and songleaders, all of them dressed in white t-shirts, short, pleated skirts and tennis shoes. And Sparky was now in position to kill them all.
"Oh boy is this great!" thought Sparky, grinning from ear to ear.
To the left were the cheerleaders. Each of the seven young women was dressed in a tight white tank top, which tended to emphasize each woman's breasts, and through which their white bras were plainly visible. Two of the cheerleaders were not even wearing bras, and their nipples were easily visible under the thin fabric of the tank tops. Each woman also wore a short, pleated skirt, which reached to her mid-thigh level. The skirts, green in color, twirled in lazy rhythm around each woman's hips and thighs as she moved. Finally, each of the young women wore short white socks, which barely covered her ankles, and green colored tennis shows which matched her pleated skirt. Sparky imagined bullets striking them in their perky young breasts, through the tank top and bra, into their heart and lungs; how the wounds would ooze and spurt red blood onto the flimsy white fabric; how the women would scream, grab at their injured breasts, and fall to the ground, dead.
There was Susan, the perky blonde head cheerleader whose boundless energy and leadership skills made her the natural choice. Beside her were Laura and Lori, bleach blondes who were not really sisters, but liked to pretend that they were. The two young women did everything in life together, even little things like deciding that today would be the day that they would be defiant and refuse to wear a bra at practice together. This would also be the day the died together. Next in line was Sheryl, the brunette class treasurer who really didn't even want to be a cheerleader, but got talked into it by her friends and was now too stubborn to quit. In the second rank was Lisa, the busty brunette whose selection to the cheer squad appeared to have much more to do with her perky 38-D breasts (which attracted much attention from the half-male selection committee), than to any particular talent. Beside Lisa was Janie, the energetic blonde heir-apparent to command the cheer squad, after Susan graduated. Finally there was Denise, the newest and youngest member of the squad, who made up for in enthusiasm what she lacked in experience.
To the right was another unit of young women, the so-called "songleaders." Though their function was much the same as the cheerleaders, they had the additional specialty of being better, more athletic dancers, who could perform more complicated routines. Indeed, the purpose of this rehearsal was to teach a new song and dance routine to the cheerleaders. Dressed in a manner similar to the cheerleaders, each of the seven songleaders wore a tight white t-shirt, with a "scoop" neckline and short sleeves. The fabric of the t-shirts was very thin, and left little of the woman's upper body to the imagination. Like the cheerleaders, the effect of the tight t-shirts was to emphasize each woman's breasts, as well as the underlying white bra. Each songleader wore a short, pleated skirt, yellow in color, which reached to her mid-thigh level, as well as white ankle socks and matching yellow tennis shoes. Finally, and as though to emphasize the more elegant nature of their practice, each of the seven songleaders wore cute little white gloves on each of her hands. Like the cheerleaders, Sparky imagined bullets thudding into the breasts of each young woman; the screams as blood spurted from the wounds, drenching the flimsy white t-shirts with blood, as each woman fell dead.
Out in front was Mari, the unquestioned leader of the women here assembled, and who seemed to be destined for much larger things in life. The shapely brunette was possessed of stunning good looks, brains, a sweet smile and a personality to match. No one would begrudge her inevitable rise to the top. To Mari's right was Jane, the bitchy blonde who was lusted after by every boy in school and hated by most every girl for the same reason. Next were Debbie and Kim, two brunettes on average intelligence and no ambition, who looked ahead no further than the looming graduation party. Somewhat to the rear was Stephanie, already admitted to a top- flight university and who aspired to medical school. Finally there was Kim -- everybody knew about Kim -- and Shelly, the bubble-headed blonde with the long curly hair.
"All right, let's try it again."
At Mari's direction, the young women quickly assumed formation; cheerleaders on the left, songleaders on the right; squad leader in front and the other six women, in two ranks of three each, just behind. Once in formation, each woman stood rigid, chin in her chest, arms flat at her sides, legs and heels together, waiting for the music to start. A few seconds later, the boom box began playing a familiar melody.
"I can't get no satisfaction"
First the leaders, Mari and Susan, and then the first rank, and finally the second rank, broke formation and started their routine.
"I can't get no satisfaction."
In time with the music, the young women began to move right, left, and right again, in seemingly perfect synchronization.
"Cause I try and I try and I try and I try."
As the routine intensified, arms and hands, some gloved, some not, went round and round, together and apart. Legs kicked, hips shook, skirts twirled. Hair bounced, and pert young breasts bounced too. Transfixed, Sparky watched for a few seconds more, enjoying the music almost as much as the frolicking female bodies.
"I can't get no, I can't get no." "When I'm drivin' in my car and that man comes on the radio"
Sparky rose from behind the rack of folding chairs. . .
"and he's tellin' me more and more about some useless" "information supposed to fire my imagination."
. . . placed the red dot of the laser sight directly between Susan's breasts. . .
"I can't get no, oh no no no."
. . . and pulled the trigger.
Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut.
A bullet struck Susan directly between her small, 32A breasts. As blood squirted from between her breasts, the petite blonde cheer captain grimaced with pain, her shoulders reflexively rose as her chest receded, and she slumped to the floor with hardly a sound.
"Hey hey hey, that's what I say."
Laura's bouncing, bra-less right breast shuddered with a round that pierced the fleshy mound just above the nipple; a second shot then struck the young woman directly through her left nipple; an easy target that was pink, erect and fully visible through the flimsy white tank-top. Laura's eyes rolled back, her arms flew back over her head, and the young bleach blonde staggered backward a few steps before crumpling to the floor.
Dimly aware that something was wrong with her "sister," Lori's eye's darted toward Laura, just in time to see her fall. Lori gasped, but it didn't mater. An instant later, a round pierced her bra-less right breast just at the point where the lower curve of the breast intersected her ribs and sternum. A second round hit the center of her sternum, and a third punched through her small left breast, just above the nipple. Growing circles of blood rapidly oozed from all three wounds, staining the white fabric of the tank top. Lori grabbed at her breasts with both hands, staggered backward a few steps, and collapsed.
"I can't get no satisfaction"
Back in the second rank, Sheryl was wondering what was going on. Already somewhat out of step with the others, her routine slowed further as the women in front of her mysteriously dropped to the floor.
Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut.
"OOOHHHOOOO. . . ."
Sheryl screamed as one bullet, then a second, and then a third ripped across her torso just below her breasts; the first just bellow the right breast through ribs and live, the second into abdominal flesh an inch below her sternum, and the third through her right ribs and into her stomach and spleen. The young brunette spun to her left and practically fell into the outstretched arms of Denise, the next woman in line.
Though puzzled by Sheryl's strange behavior, Denise had instinctively thrown her arms out to try to cushion Sheryl's fall. As Sheryl's limp body slid through Denise's arms, Denise's jaw dropped with horror as she watched another bullet smack into the center of Sheryl's chest, between her 34-B breasts. An instant later, another shot hit Denise in the abdomen, penetrating her intestines just to the left of her naval. Denise grunted, and both she and Sheryl's dead body collapsed to the floor.
"I can't get no satisfaction."
Janie had by now stopped dancing, and winced in pain as a round grazed her left lower arm, creasing the flesh. She glanced right at the women falling to the floor, and left at the women who were still dancing. Something was terribly wrong. Heart thumping in her chest, Janie turned and began to flee towards the door.
Lisa was not quite so quick witted. Still dancing in perfect time with the music, Lisa's large 38-D breasts strained against her bra and the flimsy fabric of the tank top, and the green pleats of the short cheer skirt twirled about her hips and thighs.
Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut.
Just then, two bullets struck Lisa in the flat bodice area of her cheer skirt, between her hips, mangling the lower portion of her intestines and the upper part of her uterus. As blood oozed from the wounds, staining the green fabric, Lisa grabbed at the wounds with both hands, collapsing first tow her knees, and then falling over on her left side, knees bent. There she lay, quietly whimpering for the pain to stop.
"Cause I try and I try and I try and I try."
Sparky advanced towards Jane, quickly reloading as he walked.
Jane stopped dancing and glanced about the room; it was obvious that her friends were being brutally killed. Frozen in terror as Sparky approached, the young blonde pulled her gloved hands to her cheeks, shook her head and repeatedly said "No, No. . ."
"I can't get no, I can't get no."
Sparky shot the young blonde at a range of six feet.
Phut-phut-phut-phut.
"AAAHHHAAAA. . . ." Jane screamed in agony as both of her breasts exploded in blood; a bullet penetrated each of her nipples and lodged in her lungs. As blood spurted from each of the wounds, Jane staggered backward and drew a gloved hand to each of the holes in her chest. The young blonde then toppled backward, landing hard on her firm ass, tightly gripping a mangled breast in each hand. Dark red blood oozed through the gaps between her gloved fingers.
"When I'm watchin' my TV and that man comes on" "to tell me how white my shirts can be."
Debbie was already backing up, eyes wide with horror, when a shot plowed into her 36-C left breast just above and inward of the nipple. Debbie looked down at her bleeding breast, pulled both gloved hands to the bleeding orb, and fell to her knees, whimpering with pain and spitting up aspirated blood from her penetrated lung.
"Well he can't be a man 'cause he doesn't smoke" "the same cigarettes as me."
Torn between the apparent safety of the doorway to the right and the stack of folding chairs to the left, Kim simply didn't know where to go. As she pondered the alternatives, a tight line of four bullets suddenly ripped across her torso at the line of her naval, all four rounds ripping apart her intestines and blowing out her back. Lifted off the floor like a rag doll from the force of the impacts, Kim flew backward and landed on her back with a loud thump. writhing on the floor, she moaned in obvious agony, vainly tried to stem the flow of blood from her ruined guts with her gloved hands for several seconds, and died.
"I can't get no, oh no no no." "Hey hey hey, that's what I say."
As bullets flew all around her, Mari was already running for the door, still ajar and the obvious means of escape. Her 36-C breasts bounced and her yellow skirt twirled around her hips as she ran. Stephanie was right behind Mari. Even so, it was a long way to the door; thirty feet at least and all of it directly through Sparky's line of fire.
"I can't get no satisfaction" "I can't get no girl with action."
Tracy was running too, and kept running even when a bullet plowed into her right shoulder socket, two inches above her right breast. Tracy almost stumbled with the impact, but regained her balance and staggered forward, even while pulling her gloved left hand to grip the wound to her right upper chest.
"Cause I try and I try and I try and I try."
Like her songleader companions, Shelly was running too. Unfortunately for her, the young blonde wasn't quite so lucky.
Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut.
"UUuhhhhhoo . . . uunngghh . . ."
Shelly's shoulders jerked left and right and her arms flew outward, as a neat line of bullets found her jiggling 36-C's, tearing through the thin white fabric of her t-shirt and the equally-thin lacy bra. A bullet hit her right areola, just outward of the nipple; a second caught the fleshy part of the breast just below the right nipple. Shelly's right breast quivered as both bullets sped through the fleshy mound, broke her ribs and mangled her lung. A shot hit the fold of the right breast where it met her ribs, severing the bra strap holding the cups of the bra together.
"I can't get no, I can't get no."
Without the essential support of the center bra strap, both of Shelly's breasts bounced free, spreading outward and downward with a gentle bounce, before regaining their equilibrium. As this was happening, a shot hit Shelly in the sternum, at the line of her nipples, doing grievous damage to her heart, which would have been fatal even if this had been the only round that had hit her, which of course it wasn't. Another round struck Shelly, entering her left breast inward of the nipple; another struck just above the left nipple, through the areola, and still another penetrated her left breast outward of the left nipple, clipping the areola on its way into the young blonde's lung. Her once-proud chest now a mass of bullet holes and spreading circles of blood, Shelly collapsed to the floor, flat on her back, her curly golden hair nestled around her face like a shroud, her arms and legs at impossible angles.
"When I'm ridin' round the world and I'm doin' this" "and I'm signing that and I'm tryin' to make some girl"
Janie ran for the door. Tiny rivulets of blood dripped from he wound to her left arm, her 34-B breasts jiggled within her flimsy tank top, and her blonde ponytail bounced from side to side about her shoulders. Sparky shot her. The young blonde gasped as a round struck her in the right breast. Blood spurted from Janie's breast, her right shoulder was thrown back, and her left breast was thrust out, just in time to be hit by a bullet which penetrated the woman's left breast directly through the soft, red-pink nipple.
"Uunngg. . . Mari. . . " Crying in pain, Janie staggered a few steps more, clutching at an injured breast with each hand, tightly squeezing the wounded flesh with her hands in a vain effort to make the pain go away. Then she fell to the ground.
Just ahead of Janie, Mari was running too. Mari's chestnut brown hair hung loosely about her shoulders in lazy curls, her perfect 36-C breasts bounced in lazy rhythm within her flimsy white t-shirt as she ran, and her yellow cheer skirt twirled about her hips as she ran. Just then, with escape seemingly within her grasp, Mari was distracted just for a second by Janie's cries. Against her better judgment Mari paused and turned back towards Janie, hoping to be of some assistance; After all, Mari could not live with herself if she were the only one to survive this ordeal. As Mari turned, she looked up and realized that Sparky's gun was pointed right at her.
Phut-phut-phut-phut.
"OOhhhhh. . . ahhhhggggg."
Mari grabbed at her lower abdomen as a bullet tore through the bodice area of her yellow skirt, an inch below her waist. Mari's pelvis was pushed back by the impact, and she stood bent at the waist like a jackknife, clutching at the abdominal wound with her gloved right hand, with blood visibly oozing through her fingers. A fraction of a second later, another bullet struck Mari in the left upper chest, just at the point where the bra strap and left cup of her bra joined together. Mari's shoulders and head snapped backward, and she grabbed at the bleeding wound to her left breast with her gloved left hand. Still tightly clutching both wounds, Mari fell onto her back and lay writhing on the ground.
"who tells me baby better come back later next week"
Sprinting by Mari, Stephanie had just reached the door and was actually pulling it open when a single shot struck her directly between her small 32-A breasts, punching through her sternum and into her heart. The young brunette gasped, gripped the door frame with her gloved hands, and looked down at the bleeding hole between her breasts with shock and disbelief. As her dreams of college and medical school drained from her body, her eyes closed and she slowly slid down the door frame, first to her knees, then nearly seated as her ass reached her ankles, and finally she collapsed to her right side, her arms flopping to her sides to reveal the bloody hole between her small breasts.
"cause you see I'm on losing streak."
Already well behind the other attempted escapees, Tracy knew that she was doomed. However, even as the women in front of her dropped, she continued to stagger forward towards the door, still clutching at her wounded right shoulder socket with a gloved hand.
Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut.
"Unnnhh. . . ungghh . . . mmmhhmm."
Tracy reeled under multiple blows, as though her body was being struck with a hammer; her shoulders and hips jerked and swayed with each new blow. A round hit her in the lower abdomen, through the bodice of her yellow skirt, mangling her right ovary and her uterus; a second also ripped through the bodice of her short pleated skirt, a few inches below the naval, slicing through her intestines before lodging in her spine. Another bullet easily sliced through Tracy's intestines just below the ribs on her left side, before bursting out her back. Tracy was now staggering backwards and beginning to fall, in indescribable agony, when a round struck her in the jiggling flesh of her 34-B left breast, just inward of the nipple, brushing aside the flimsy fabric of her white t-shirt and lacy bra before speeding into her lung. A shot hit just below the young woman's sternum, angling upward as she fell, passing through her diaphragm and into her heart. An instant later, a round struck Tracy's right nipple, punching through cloth, lace, fatty tissue, muscle, and ribs before coming to rest in her lung. Blood oozed from the wound, quickly drenching the cub of her bra and her t-shirt with blood. With a final grunt and grimace of pain, Tracy collapsed hard on her back, arms and legs outstretched, and lay quite still.
"I can't get no, oh no no no."
Sparky quickly looked around the room and snapped a fresh clip into the Uzi. All of the cheerleaders and songleaders were down; most of them appeared to be dead or dying. It was time to make sure.
A few feet to his front left lay Denise, on her back, shoulders slightly raised, knees spread, white panties visible between the fold of her green pleated skirt. The young woman lay grimacing with pain and writhing on the ground, clutching her bleeding intestines with both hands. The brunette cheerleader was very much alive and, making momentary eye contact, pleaded with Sparky with her eyes. It didn't work.
Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut.
"Oohhhhhhaaaaaaaahhhhh. . . ."
Denise let out a long wail as Sparky peppered her small breasts with five bullets in a nearly straight line from her right side to her left; the bullets striking successively her right breast just outward of the nipple; her right breast inward of the nipple, through the areola; her center sternum and obviously through the heart; her left breast inward of the nipple; and finally her left breast outward of the nipple. Each bullet sped through Denise's flimsy white tank top, which tightly gripped her breasts, her padded bra (which made the most of her tiny 32-A breasts), flesh and bone, before mangling her heart and lungs. The bullets hammered Denise's back against the floor, and her arms flopped outward to her sides.
"Hey hey hey, that's what I say."
Sparky hurried over to Lisa, the large-breasted brunette who lay whimpering on the floor, on her left side, tightly grabbing the two bullet wounds to the bodice area of her green cheer skirt. Standing over the young woman, Sparky drove his heel down on Lisa's right shoulder, knocking her onto her back. Lisa grunted and was forced onto her back, where she lay, still tightly gripping her lower abdomen with both hands; her legs slightly askew and white panties visible. Sparky pointed the Uzi directly at Lisa's 38-D melons. Lisa's large red-pink nipples were easily visible through both the fabric of her lacy bra and the thin white tank top.
Lisa raised her head slightly, and looked at Sparky.
"Oh please no. . .," she pleaded.
"Nice breasts," thought Sparky -- and fired.
Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut.
"AAAAHHHHAAAA!"
Lisa screamed in agony and her head slammed into the floor, as her ample chest erupted in blood; her arms flying backward before flailing wildly outward, her shoulders and torso madly shaking with each bloody impact. Four bullets churned the flesh of her large right breast, one through the nipple, before shredding her lung. Her deep cleavage suffered grievous injury, no less than three rounds punching through her sternum and into her rapidly-beating heart, each resulting in a little fountain of blood. Finally, three more rounds struck the jiggling left breast in a tight pattern about the nipple, all three grazing the young woman's left areola on their way into her lung. Spread-eagled and her chest awash in blood, Lisa lay dead.
"I can't get no, I can't get no"
Debbie was barely alive, tightly gripping the wound to her left breast with both of her gloved hands. Her breathing was labored, and foamy, aspirated blood dripped from the edges of her mouth. Sparky fired a quick burst into Debbie's chest; three bullets impacted her cleavage in a tight pattern between her 36-C breasts. The young woman gasped with the impacts, her back arched and her body stiffened for a second, then she lay relaxed and quite still.
"I can't get no satisfaction, no satisfaction"
Looking around, Sparky was astonished to see that Mari, although badly wounded, and managed to get to her feet and was slowly staggering towards the door. She was still gripping her two bullet wounds with her gloved hands; her right hand was pressed tightly against the bodice of her yellow pleated skirt, in the center of a growing blood stain, and her left hand clutched at the wound high up on her left breast. The young brunette was in something of a dream-like state; her eyes were glassy and she seemed almost unconcerned by Sparky's presence only five feet away. Yet in grim determination, she continued for the door.
"no satisfaction, no satisfaction."
The music faded away.
Sparky paused for a moment, as his nimble brain considered the alternatives. As much as he wanted to kill Mari, he also wanted to fuck her. She was so beautiful; chestnut brown, gently curling hair at the shoulder; the friendly face of the girl next door, coupled with the beauty of a skin-care model; the awesome body and perfect 36-C breasts. Moreover, her organs were easily accessible through her skimpy cheer uniform. Hmmm. Well, he could always fuck her first and kill her later. Every other woman in the building was dead, and the doors were secure, preventing any interference. "Cool," he though to himself. "I'm gonna get laid!"
Setting down his trust Uzi within easy reach, the young freedom fighter grabbed Mari around the waist. The injured young woman barely resisted as Sparky pulled her to the ground. He could smell the sweet perfume on her graceful neck.
Pushing Mari flat on her back, Sparky threw the young woman's arms back over her head, where they landed, extended at slight angles, high behind her head. Her white gloves were bloody from the wounds to her breast and abdomen. Blood still slowly oozed from the bullet hole in her left breast; staining the nearby portion of her tight white t-shirt. Her lacy white bra and straps were distinct through the flimsy fabric. Her knees were raised and bent; her feet flat on the floor. Next, Sparky spread Mari's legs apart, revealing the high cut, white cotton panties beneath her pleated yellow cheer skirt. A slight depression was visible in the center of Mari's panties, as if to highlight the objective. A few seconds later, the panties were off, but the skirt remained on. Sparky then inserted his hardened member between Mari's engorged vaginal lips. The warm, gripping sensation felt wonderful.
"Oohhh . . . no . . . no . . ," protested Mari, her head meekly shaking from side to side, but otherwise unable to resist in any way.
Sparky's member sank deeper into Mari's moist womanhood. At the same time, Sparky's hands reached under Mari's t-shirt, and Sparky pushed the blood-soaked t-shirt upward until Mari's breasts, shrouded in the cups of her lacy white bra, became visible. Then Sparky unhooked the front center strap of Mari's bra, spread the cups to either side, and Mari's madeim-sized, supple breasts bounced free. Mari's breasts were truly perfect; for a second Sparky admired the young woman's 36-C breasts, the gentle curves, the soft, reddish-pink nipples, the bumpy, half-dollar size areolas. Having now exposed her helpless body, Sparky got to work.
His shaft still deep within the young cheerleader's vagina, Sparky began to thrust in and out, ever more deeply, exploring every recess of Mari's womanhood. Simultaneously, Sparky kneaded and massaged Mari's supple breasts, and licked her reddish-pink nipples. This was he first time that Sparky had ever had sex with a girl, and he liked it -- almost as much as shooting them. Mari moaned softly, and her nipples began to harden.
For several minutes, Sparky continued thrusting in and out of Mari's slit, up and down, his member penetrating the deepest receses of the young woman's pussy. At the same time, Sparky continued to play with Mari's firm, full breasts, and her erect nipples. Occassionally, Mari registered another weak protest, "no. . . please." All this time, Mari's chest lay exposed; her t-shirt was pushed up over her breasts; the cups of her lacy bra, unclasped in the center, hung at her sides; and her short, pleated cheer skirt was spread wide and hung loosely about her well-muscled thighs. Suddenly Sparky's shaft exploded, sending a blast of hot cum into the depths of Mari's womanhood. Obviously feeling Sparky's load, Mari moaned again, and her back arched slightly.
After the rush of ecstasy had faded, Sparky quickly recovered his composure, pulled his member out of Mari's slit, and restored his clothing. Mari was afforded no such courtesy; she still lay on the ground, helpless, arms high over her head, chest and abdomen bleeding, breasts and pussy exposed, gently moaning.
Sparky picked up the Uzi, but was momentarily beset by doubt. Sex -- well, rape actually, was fun; and he had thouroughly enjoyed his first sexual experience. Should her let Mari live? Nah. Sparky had leared that attractive young women were mainly good for one thing: target practice. So Sparky shot Mari in her breasts.
Phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut-phut.
"mmmmmhhhhmmm."
Mari managed a soft moan as the bullets thudded into her chest. The young woman's arms rolled, her upper torso shook and her breasts bounced as bullet after bullet thudded into her proud breasts and deep cleavage, penetrating both of the young songleader's nipples, mangling her lungs and heart. In a few seconds it was over.
* * *
Sparky picked up his gear, and bounded down the stairs towards the front door. Along the way, he paused to press the button on the control panel that operated the steel shutters. On his way through the front door, Sparky reflected on the fact that he had just shot to death more than forty gorgeous young women. Most of them had received hits to their breasts. And he had gotten laid! Satisfied -- at least until the next time -- Sparky hopped on his bicycle and casually rode away.