Posted by NBabe on February 15, 2000 at 21:10:23:
John Madden and Pat Summerall have been taken off of FOX’s football coverage and are now the new announcing team for the Snuff Olympics. Where once each four years, necrobabes from all over the world meet to claim the title of worlds greatest snuffette.
“Well, John, I guess if we had to be pulled from football, this here snuff olympics looks like a good place to wind up.”
“I’ll say Pat. These girls are some athletes. I wouldn’t be surprised that I will have to name an All-Madden snuffette in various categories. But right now, the olympics are ready to start with snuff marathon. “ John turns to his monitor.
“You’re right there, we are about to switch to the Colorado Rockies where the three contestants are currently preparing for this event”
"Are you all done with your warm-ups? It's important to warm up before a long run, and believe me, this will be the longest run of your lives." Asks reporter Hanna Storm.
Back in the studio Pat and John looks at each other thinking, how come we got stuck with the bitch when the kicked her out of NBC?
"How the f--- are we supposed to 'warm up?'" Kim demanded. She was shivering so hard that she could barely stand; her lips had turned a shade of blue that was nearly as dark as that of her tiny string bikini. "We're freezing to death out here!"
"I know it feels that way to you," the Hanna in the fur-lined parka agreed. "But that's just because you're practically naked." It was true; apart from her bikini, a blue bandanna, two socks and a pair of running shoes, Kim was entirely exposed. Hanna in Her parka glanced around at the pristine alpine scenery. There was about a foot of fresh snow on the ground, but the sun was also shining through the thin mountain air. "It's at least a couple of degrees above freezing right now," she decided. "You'll be fine once you get moving. Think of the cold as an extra bit of incentive to run hard."
"Please," Cindy whimpered. "Won't you tell us what this is all about?" In her white string bikini and running shoes, Cindy was every bit as cold as Kim was. Her tanned, naked flesh crawled with goose bumps.
"I'd be happy to," she agreed. "This is a simple endurance contest. I've selected the three of you to participate because you are some of the top fitness models in the business. Not only are you all very beautiful, but you have the kind of lean, hard, durable bodies that a contest like this requires.
"Here's how it works: the three of you are going to run up this paved mountain road. We'll pace you in the jeep." she nodded towards a drab, green army-style vehicle which idled nearby. Its driver waited patiently behind the wheel. "Once we begin, you are not to stop running for any reason, not even to pee. There is only one exception to this rule, which I'll get to in a moment. If you do stop without permission, I will shoot you, in a non-essential part of your body, with this." she held up a smooth, black .22 rifle; the three freezing girls gazed at it in horror. "If at any time you fall more than fifty feet behind the jeep, you will be shot in a nonlethal manner. If you hear the sharp crack of my rifle and you DON'T feel hot lead tear into your body, you will have cause to rejoice--not only because you have been temporarily spared, but also because we'll take a five minute breather to give the girl who HAS been shot a chance to recover. These five minute breaks will be your only rest periods. Towards the end of the contest, you'll probably find yourself praying for one of the other two girls to get shot; that's how precious these breaks will become to you. Don't feel guilty about such feelings. Survival of the fittest is the name of this game”
.
"After each five minute break, we'll begin again. The same rules still apply to you even after you've been shot: if you fall behind or if you stop running, you get shot again. It doesn't matter how many bullets you already have in your body. You aren't off the hook until your frozen corpse lies dead in the snow.
"This road winds up the mountain for twenty-five miles, then ends right in front of a huge Douglas fir tree. If any of you actually does make it all the way to the top, you have my word that I won't shoot you. Of course, that won't help you much if you already have five or six rounds in your body by the time you get there. That's why you need to follow the rules absolutely. Are we clear on that?"
Freezing to death in a bright yellow bikini, Tylene Buck hugged herself tightly and jogged in place. "It's monstrous!" she sobbed. "Why are you doing this to us?"
"For fun, of course. Well, we'd better get going. You three are starting to turn blue. Start running!" The three frightened models hesitated briefly; Hanna fired into he air. "That was your one and only warning shot. All subsequent shots go into your bodies." That did it: the three girls took off, sprinting up the mountain road.
"Jesus, I'm so scared!" Tylene whimpered as they ran. "This bitch's f---ing crazy! I think she really means it!"
"Shut up, Ty," Kim hissed. "Save your breath for running. You're gonna need it."
"Twenty-five miles uphill in this thin, frozen air...she might as well just shoot us now," Cindy gasped.
"If that's the way you want it, just stop now," Kim panted. "And let her shoot you."
"You don't have to be such a bitch," Cindy replied testily. "I'm just scared, is all."
"I know," Kim said softly. "We all are. I'm sorry. Let's just focus on running. Maybe we can make it to the top, all three of us, together. Then she'll have to let us go..."
"Do you really think we can trust her?" Cindy demanded.
"She's gone to so much trouble to make this elaborate game, with these complicated rules...she'll stick to his own rules, I think," Kim decided.
"I don't know if I can do twenty-five miles," Ty gasped. "I've done twenty before. Maybe..."
"Quiet! Here she comes."
Without thinking about it, the three girls had slipped into a slow, steady jog. They weren't quite walking, but they weren't quite running, either. It was a good way to conserve their precious energy reserves. But now the jeep pulled up alongside the three gorgeous joggers. Their tormentor sat in the back of the open vehicle, cradling her rifle. she took a moment to admire the three pairs of bouncing, spherical breasts. "Very nice, ladies," she cried out, "but I'm afraid we're going to have to pick up the pace a bit now." She signaled the driver, who began to accelerate. As the space between joggers and jeep widened, she leveled the rifle and took aim at Tylene's naked belly.
"Oh, Jesus!" Ty cried. "Come on!" She began to sprint towards the jeep; the others quickly followed.
"That's it, girls!" the Hanna laughed. "Feel the burn! Just think how many calories you're using up right now!"
“Wow, that Hanna has more spunk and imagination than I gave her credit for” John says from the studio..
"Do you think we could get that gun away from her?" Kim said quietly as they ran towards the jeep.
"Maybe," Cindy agreed. "What about the driver? Is he armed, too?"
"Probably...we have to assume he is, yeah."
"We'd never make it..."
"Less talk, ladies!" Hanna cried. "More leg work!" The jeep sped up again, and the three women hurled themselves forward to catch it.
"We won't make it even one mile at this pace," Ty whimpered.
"Probably just as well..." Kim replied morosely.
"God, there's nothing better than the sight of a big-breasted bikini girl running at top speed!" Pat shouted. "Look at those tits bounce! Do they hurt yet? They will soon! “
Well, as much as I'm enjoying this, I guess we'd better slow things down a little. I don't want to wear you out too soon." The jeep slowed until it was right alongside them, and they slipped back into their jogging rhythm.
And so it went. He allowed them to jog most of the time, accelerating every fifteen or twenty minutes to force a brief but exhausting sprinting session. Despite the frigid temperature and their almost complete lack of clothing, the three girls began to sweat with exertion. Soon their scantily clad bodies glistened in the cold winter sun.
"That's five miles!" she announced at last. "You girls are doing great!"
"Twenty more to go..." Cindy moaned.
"Don't think about it," Kim cautioned.
"I have to pee SO BAD," Cindy whispered.
"I know," Kim said. "Me too. But she'll shoot us if we stop to do it. You might have to piss into your g-string."
"I can't do that!" Cindy protested. "It's disgusting! I haven't wet myself since I was six years old!"
"It's that or a bullet in the gut," Kim pointed out.
"I know...OK, I'll try," Cindy decided.
She closed her eyes and grew silent. As she ran, a dark stain appeared at the crotch of her g-string. Tears ran down Cindy's cheeks; it was one of the most humiliating moments in the proud model's life.
"Well done, Cindy!" her tormentor cried out. "That's the sort of bold action you have to take if you want to make it to the top!"
They continued to climb. One by one, each girl hit her second wind, then her third. They were all accomplished athletes, but this contest was far more demanding than anything any of them had ever attempted.
“You know Pat, I can see some potential All-Madden team members in this group” John announces.
Hanna announced that they had come ten miles. "I'm not going to make it," Cindy whispered.
"Shut up," Kim hissed. "You're going to make it. We all are."
"I can't do fifteen more miles, Kim. I just can't. My legs are like rubber. I'm finished."
"No, Cindy!" Kim cried. "You have to keep going! Dammit, girl, I'm not going to watch you die..."
Just then the jeep accelerated, indicating that it was time for another sprint. Kim and Ty hurried to catch up, but Cindy continued to jog at the same pace. Hanna raised her gun.
"Come ON, Cindy! You can do it!" Ty called over her shoulder.
"No...I can't..." Cindy slowed her pace until she was hardly moving at all. Suddenly an explosion shattered the alpine silence. Cindy stared down at her belly in confusion. Blood was beginning to trickle out of her navel. "Good shot," she whispered as she sank to her knees.
"Five minute break, girls!" Hanna announced gleefully. "Don't waste it!"
“Oh, they have a racked up some points there, John.” Pat turns to him.
“Yup, “ John takes the telestrator and draws the path of the bullet on the screen and replays the hit several times.
"Oh, God, Cindy!" Kim ran back down the hill towards her wounded friend. Cindy was clutching at her bleeding belly; the blood ran out from between her fingers. "It doesn't look too bad," Kim lied. "Take it easy for a minute or two. Then you have to try to get up. You have to keep going!"
"No," Cindy said firmly. "I'm done. I'm gut-shot, Kim. I'm as good as dead. I can't run another fifteen miles like this."
"But, Cindy..."
"She'll take his time finishing me. Use that time. If you and Ty get a good rest now, you might have a chance. Please, Kim. Don't argue. It's the only way."
"Oh, Cindy..." As the other two girls talked, Ty moved off to the side of the road. "I can bring you down from five hundred yards," Hanna said without looking at her, "so don't even think of running."
"Can I go to the bathroom?" Ty asked timidly.
"OK." Shivering from the cold, Ty peeled her yellow g-string off her hips and slid it down around her knees, exposing her tight, bald slit. She squatted over the snow to relieve herself. Steam rose from the frozen ground as her piss melted through the snow. Unable to wipe herself, she pulled her panties back up. She then located an unsoiled patch of snow and began to shovel large handfuls of the white powder into her thirsty mouth.
"Time's up, girls. Let's get moving."
Cindy just gazed at her defiantly, shaking her head. She made no move to rise from where she knelt.
"No, Cindy!" Kim wailed.
"Stand aside," Hanna ordered. "I need to shoot her again."
Reluctantly, Kim complied. A red rose blossomed at Cindy's shoulder. Gasping in pain, she reached up towards this fresh wound. But still she made no move to rise from the road.
"I'm not giving you another five minutes, Cindy. Are you getting up or not?"
"No!" Cindy shouted. "I'm not! You're gonna have to finish me right here, motherf---er!"
She shrugged and fired into her other shoulder. She grunted, tossing her blonde mane to the side. She fired once into each thigh, and then put a round into Cindy's breast. Although Kim was screaming at the top of her lungs, Cindy was oddly silent. Blood flowed from the ruin of her flawless, round tit, spreading slowly through the fabric of her white bikini top.
Cindy gurgled, blood bubbling over her lips. She coughed, spraying the asphalt with red. Quivering, she raised her arms over her head, inviting the coup de grace. But Hanna shook her head and lowered her weapon.
"Nice try, Cindy. But you're not getting off that easy. Oh, no. We're just going to leave you like that. I think you'll be amazed to discover how long you can live with six bullets in your body. The cold will radically slow your blood loss. You're in for a really unpleasant hour or two before you freeze to death.
“Wow, Pat, that Hanna is quite a snuffer. I will have to consider her one of the best at that skill position. Too bad she’s just as bitchy off camera as she is on”
“You got that right, John”
OK, Kim, Ty...break's over. Let's go." As the jeep began to accelerate, Cindy started to crawl after it, raising an unsteady hand towards the receding vehicle. As she turned her head to cough up more blood, the jeep rounded a corner. She was alone.
"Oh, God, Kim," Ty whispered.
"Don't think about it," Kim cautioned. "Just keep running."
The brief rest had done them some good. They discovered new reserves of energy, and used them. They passed the fifteen mile mark. The road continued to wind upward, getting steeper all the time.
"Oh, f---," Ty gasped.
"Yeah," Kim agreed. "She's pushing us harder...trying to ensure we don't make it. More sprints, and they last longer."
"Oh, shit..."
"How do you feel?" Kim asked.
"Like hell. I can hardly breathe..." Ty whimpered.
"This thin air. Hang in there."
"I will. Thanks, Kim!"
They ran. Legs pumping, breasts bouncing, blonde hair flying, they ran. They passed the twenty mile mark.
"Kim? We're in the home stretch now! Hey, Kim?" Ty looked over her shoulder, and realized that her friend had fallen a bit behind her. Kim didn't look too good. Her lips were blue, and she was shaking from head to toe. She seemed to be having trouble breathing. Worst of all, her legs were faltering. She missed a step, stumbled, tried to right herself, stumbled again.
Ty slowed down, but reminded herself not to stop. "Kim? Oh, Jesus, Kim, hurry up! You're falling behind! Come ON, Kim! You--" Ty was silenced by the shot; she saw Kim clutch her belly. Slowly, gracefully, Kim went down on one knee and lowered her head, like a gladiator who had just received a mortal wound.
"Take five, Ty!" Hanna called.
"Oh, God, Kim!" Ty whispered. But she moved to the side of the road to piss and to pack her mouth with more thirst-quenching snow. It was too cold to sit down, so she walked around a little, stretching her legs, trying to get some of the kinks out. And she kept an eye on Kim. Would she stay down like Cindy had, or would she try to get up?
"Time, ladies! Let's go!" And Kim rose, slowly but steadily. Ty stared at her in awe and admiration. With a bullet hole in her belly, Kim was on her feet, ready to go.
They began to jog. "That's it, Kim! You can do it!" Ty whispered, though she wasn't sure she believed it. Kim did well enough jogging. But when the first sprint came, she fell behind again. It wasn't enough to bring a second shot, but she was still well behind Ty when they dropped back down to a jog. And when the next sprint came, she bought a bullet in the right thigh. She didn't cry or scream; she just took the shot. But Ty knew she was finished. She limped along behind the jeep; with a bad leg, she didn't have a chance. The next shot went into her left thigh. Kim went down, and she didn't get up again.
"A beautiful effort, Kim," Hanna said. "Much better than Cindy's. You've earned this." And she began to shoot her, putting one bullet after another into her beautiful body as she bucked and twisted on the pavement. Lead spheres tore through Kim's calves and biceps. Hanna filled her gut with lead, pumping rounds into her until her abdomen was little more than churned meat. She shot her breasts, of course. Little explosions of red burst from Kim's taut, tender mammary mounds to splatter on the cool, white snow below. The .22 rounds were not powerful enough to travel through her massive tits into her heart. And so to finish her, she fired a single round through her throat. At first her bandanna seemed to stop the bleeding, but that was an illusion: her hands flew to her neck, and suddenly a great fount of arterial blood erupted out of her. Kim gurgled once and fell face down in the snow.
Ty stared at Kim's bullet-ridden corpse and tried to name what she was feeling. Then, without even being told to do so, she began to run again.
The last five miles were endless. As they neared the top Hanna grew more and more ruthless. She was giving her hardly any time at all between sprints, and the jeep kept going faster and faster, so that even when she sprinted she was still losing ground. Several times she fell back to the fifty foot mark, and saved herself only by pouring some unknown reserve of energy into her exhausted, leaden limbs.
She had no idea how she was still standing, let alone moving. She was in a world she didn't understand now, beyond pain, beyond exhaustion, beyond reason. She knew only one thing: if she stopped, she would die, as surely as Kim had. And so she must not stop, though her lungs blazed and her heart felt as if it would burst in her chest. Somehow she kept on and on and on, against all odds, pushing forward through sheer force of will.
She covered the last half mile or so at a dead run, as the jeep raced ahead of her towards the finish line. At last she saw the tree, and knew that she had won. Hanna knew it too. She raised his rifle towards her, but she was already too close. "That's right, you bastard," she thought. "It's your game. Your rules. And I beat you! God damn it, I beat you!"
Ty fell against the enormous Douglas fir, her heart pounding. She could barely breathe, but it didn't matter. She was free! She had done it! She felt the bark of the tree dig into her back as she leaned up against its reassuring solidity, and she laughed.
She was still laughing when she saw the noose. It dangled casually from one of the lower branches of the tree, swaying gently in the cold mountain breeze. Ty just kept on laughing. She couldn't think of anything else to do.
"That was a helluva run, Ty," Hanna said as she slipped the noose over her head and snugged it up tight. "And I mean that."
Something broke inside Ty as she felt the rope dig into her throat. "But you promised!" she wailed. "You swore that if I got to the top, you'd let me go!"
She shook her head and smiled sadly. "No. I said if you got to the top I wouldn't shoot you, and I won't. But I AM going to snuff you. You must understand that."
"No," Ty wailed. "Oh, no...it's so unfair..."
"It's perfectly fair. You won, and you're being rewarded. Believe me, being hanged is much easier than being shot repeatedly. Would you rather have had every inch of your flesh turned inside out, like Kim? Or would you rather be in Cindy's shoes? She's still alive, and probably will be for a while. Think about that as you strangle. It could be a lot worse, Ty." And with that, she hauled her up into the air.
Utterly spent from her run, Ty could not offer even token resistance. Knowing this, she hadn't bothered to bind her. Now she tied the end of the noose rope to the trunk of the tree, and stood back to watch Ty die. It took her about twenty minutes--she had tied her a good, slow noose--and she didn't move an inch the entire time. Her sleek, voluptuous body simply hung there, defeated and absolutely powerless, as the noose slowly squeezed the life from her. Contrary to her tormentor's claims, Ty found that asphyxiation was excruciating. Pain slowly suffused her body as she hanged, and the only thing that made it bearable was the endorphins that still coursed through her.
Her bulging, bountiful breasts glistened like twin suns as she suffered. The only hint of life in her body was the flickering fire in her eyes. Apart from that, Ty's sleek, bikini-clad form could have been part of the tree. When at last she slipped into death, it was a change too subtle to see.
“This is Hanna Storm, reporting from the Colorado Rockies with the Marathon. Our winner, Ty, a true olympic champion.”
“Well, John, time to wrap this up, what do you think of that Ty’s effort, will she make the all-Madden team.”
“No, Pat, I don’t think so. She was doing great, had that sweat and dirt going for her and those boobs had certainly established her as a contender, but an all-Madden team member would have given more of an effort at the end. Anyway, The day is still young and there are more events, Right now we need to slip to commercial.”
Fade out and into the infomercial for the Angelfire 3000 interactive snuff suit..
My body slices through the water with an ease which was previously unknown to me. I am making good time; I know I am. Naturally I can't see the competition on either side of me, but I know that I'm beating them. This feels like my best time ever. I want to win; I want it very badly. But there is something else, something beyond that basic, primal desire. I have a new self-confidence. I feel good about myself; in fact, I feel great. And suddenly I realize why. It's my new suit: tight, wet yellow Lycra hugging the firm contours of my hard, athletic body. It took my five years to save up the money to buy this suit. I finally got it yesterday, and this is the first time I've worn it in public. Doing so gives me a secret thrill. Of course, I'm the only one here who knows why this suit is so special. To everyone else, it's just another yellow Speedo. But I know what it really is, and that makes all the difference in the world.
I think about what the suit did to me last night, and what it could do to me, and those thoughts drive me wild. My legs pump with a rhythmic, sexual energy, launching me through the pool like a rocket. I realize I'm making love to the water, and the water is responding in kind; suddenly I'm at the edge of the pool, pulling myself up onto the tiles, and I don't need a judge to tell me I've won. I let out a triumphant WHOOP of victory. My teammates surround me, patting me on the back, even slapping my ass like the guys do. My time is terrific, a personal best. We're sure to win this meet now, and all because of me! I smile broadly, accepting their thanks, but my eyes are searching for the one person whose congratulations I truly want. There he is, off to the side, tall and dark, slender and oh so handsome, and he is beckoning me with his eyes. I disentangle myself from my teammates as quickly as I can, and I go to him. He smiles a mysterious smile and pulls me into the women's locker room.
"James, what--?" I whisper, but I know damn well "what." His hands are all over me, grabbing my tits and my firm, tight ass. He presses his lips against mine, hard. The kiss is a statement, not a question. He wants to f--- me, right here, right now, and you know what? I'm going to let him. Swimming is a tremendous turn-on for me, and so is winning, and so is wearing this suit; the combination of all three, I suddenly realize, has made me so h---- I'm about to pop. My nipples ache, and the wetness at the crotch of my suit has little to do with the suit's absorption of the pool water.
I stumble as he pulls me deeper into the dimly lit locker room. The place is empty--or is it? "I have a couple of surprises for you," James says, his voice thick with lust. Someone's moving in the shadows; I see now that we're not alone. It's a huge, hulking figure; as it steps forward, my heart skips a beat. It's Scott: big, beautiful Scott, 230 pounds of beefy linebacker, with most of that weight resting (or so I've always imagined) in his incredible cock.
"I'm going to share you with my best friend," James says matter-of-factly. My nipples tingle. I love it when he takes charge like this!
I give James a long, deep, wet kiss. "It's a beautiful surprise," I whisper.
"Oh, we're just getting started," he assures me. He pushes me gently away, until we are standing about two feet apart. To my astonishment and delight he then reaches up and taps the logo of my suit with his finger. He does it just right: two taps, a pause, then two more. My torso lights up as the menus scroll across the yellow Lycra.
"How...?" is all I can manage to ask.
He laughs. "I found the owner's manual. You really didn't hide it very well. I think you wanted me to find it. And you know what else? I think you want me to snuff you. If I'm wrong, that's just too bad for you, because I promised Scott a real show, and I'm not going to let you disappoint him. Or me."
I say nothing. What is there, after all, for me to say? We both know he's right. I suspect that if I protested now he'd stop (though it turns me on tremendously to think that he might not). But in any case, I'm not about to stop him. I hadn't planned for this to happen so soon, but the moment is perfect. I will give myself to him, and to his friend.
He accesses the suit's tightness menu. I gasp as his fingers play up and down my ribs. He really seems to know his way around the suit's interactive virtual controls. Men are so delightfully technical. "There," he says. "I've programmed it for an hour's duration. That should give us plenty of time. Have you used the suit much yet?"
"Only on the lowest settings," I confess. "Oh!" I inhale sharply; the Lycra is already beginning to constrict around my ribcage.
"Well, we'll put it through its paces today. I want to try out all the options. OK, Scott, lay down on that bench. Let's get you laid, man."
"Right on!" Scott agrees. He's naked. It's the first time I've seen his c--- unclothed, and it's even bigger than I had hoped. Will I be able to fit that monstrous thing into my tiny body? I'm determined to find a way.
Scott positions himself face-up on one of the locker room's low, aluminum benches. James uses the access menu to create a vaginal envelope in the crotch of the suit. As if by magic, the tight yellow fabric loosens in that one spot only, forming a condom-like sheathe.
I don't have to be told what to do next. I mount Scott's prone body, straddle him, and thrust his enormous member through the sheathe and up into me. I cry out: he's immense, the biggest I've ever had, and f---ing him is intensely painful, but I love the pain, and so I force him deeper and deeper into my tight young pussy until at last, somehow, the entire length of his massive flesh tower is inside me. I begin to move slowly, raising myself up an inch or two and then thrusting myself back down, impaling myself on his enormity. With each downstroke I pause to marvel at how utterly full I have become.
I marvel too at how tight the suit is on my body. It's starting to hurt. No bones are breaking, not yet, but it won't be long. That thought inflames me and I begin to f--- Scott harder.
Suddenly there are hands behind me, pushing me down onto Scott's enormous, hairy chest. All right: I don't have to be sitting up; I can still f--- him in this position, and I do. I feel James manipulating menus on the back of my suit (that's an extra option, available on the Angelfire 3000 but not the 2000--I'm so glad I went with the fancier model!) I realize that James is requesting an anal sheath. Of course: he means to take me too, while I f--- Scott, and so he must deflower my ass, as I have always dreamed he would do someday! He is not gentle, and I don't want him to be. I cry out in pain as he thrusts his c--- through the Lycra sheath and into the tight space between my pert, firm ass cheeks. James is smaller than Scott but he is not small, and I am an anal virgin. The pain is tremendous, and I welcome it. Soon he's inside me, thrusting deep into places no man has gone before.
I am a more complete woman now than I have ever been in my life. I f--- Scott and James f---s me; the rhythm is the same. We are synchronized. I am delighted, no, more than delighted; I am about to come, and I do, and it's wonderful.
Hands on my back: more menus, James wants to hurt me more, and I want more pain, yes. Suddenly I scream. Electric agony blazes in my cunt. The suit is running a sharp current through the inside of the vaginal sheathe. Scott is safe: this is reliable high tech, but I am in hell. Scott's massive c--- has become, in effect, a cattle prod.
James is whispering in my ear. "Keep f---ing him, bitch. Even though it hurts. Because it hurts. Keep f---ing him, or I swear I'll snuff you right now."
I love that talk, and I redouble my efforts, but the pain is astonishing. I can barely see straight, it hurts so much. The suit is perfectly calibrated. The charge is just short of lethal; it's exactly as much current as I can take and remain conscious. And it's being delivered right where it can do the most good: at the biggest bundle of nerves in my body, in my most tender secret place, my cunt, my womanhood, the seat of my being. I impale myself on Scott's tortuous electrified member, and scream, and come again.
I gasp as the shocks suddenly stop. There is a pause (though we don't lose the rhythm of the f---ing), and then I'm in agony once again, but from behind this time. Now it's heat, a blazing, burning fire. The temperature inside the anal sheathe has risen by several hundred degrees, though James remains cool and calm outside the suit. He has made his c--- into a virtual white-hot poker, and now he is ass-f---ing me with that poker, grunting in pleasure as I suffer.
I thrust my smooth, round ass into the air to tell him yes, I want this, f--- me, hurt me, snuff me, but he already knows. I can't believe how much it hurts: the inside of my ass is on fire, my intestinal walls ablaze with searing hot torment. Tears stream down my face; I'm drooling, I'm not a woman anymore, I'm a beast, a piece of warm meat, and I love it, and yes, I come again.
I feel a rib crack as the suit tightens around me. This pain is barely noticeable compared to the agony of James's anal violation. But I delight at the thought of what the suit is doing to me. It is squeezing my rib cage but leaving my breasts full and firm and fine. It is making my midriff skinnier, making me more wasp-waisted, more cartoonish, more desirable. It is the ultimate high tech corset.
James is going wild; I feel his fingers fly through the menus. Now there are shocks and heat both. I have a cattle prod in my c--- and a hot poker in my ass and I know I can't take that combination for long. The f---ing is frenzied, fantastic. I'm bouncing up and down on Scott's lightning-charged pole; James is thrusting his hot brutal weapon of a prick into my innocent young ass, another rib pops, and both men are getting close, I can feel it, which is good, because I'm close too
I ride the lightning like there's no tomorrow, because there isn't. The suit is so tight now I can barely breathe. I feel James's hands on my shoulders; he's activating the snuff sequence, bless him. Parts of the suit harden and turn sharp and as the suit tightens, they split the perfect skin of my tits and belly as they sink deep into my viscera, the cattle prod in my c--- and the poker in my ass continue their assault. I squirm and twist on Scott and James’s c--- weapons for a half hour. Then, That does it, I'm there, and I gurgle, so perfectly content, so satisfied, and the two men explode into me at the same time, their prodigious loads filtering through the suit to settle in my ass and twat as I fulfill my function and expire.
“That’s it for tonight, folks please be with us next time for the snuff olympics”
NBabe