From Muff to Snuff by Llabmik Chapter 1 - Rookie Nookie Licking and sucking playfully on the computer nerd's clit, Bambi had been delighted to discover that, once you stripped off the baggy clothes and the thick glasses, although Jane Goodman had an ordinary face, she had a dynamite body. Face flushed, nipples erect, teardrops of sweat running down her taut belly into her sodden pubic bush, Jane came repeatedly in Bambi's face, experiencing the deepest orgasms she had ever known and wondering why she had never tried women before. Bambi skilfully tongue-fucked Jane to ecstasy over and over and over again, beavering away tirelessly, a biker babe who liked going lickety-split and who really knew how to talk to the canoe driver. A youth spent hitting the books, alone with her PC, had crippled the development of Jane's social skills. The thick-lensed glasses had led to vicious taunting. Combined with the isolation and loneliness awarded to the intellectually brilliant, it had put her self-esteem and social self-confidence in the basement. Privately, she thought of herself as Plain Jane the Hopeless Nerd-Girl. Until Bambi The Biker Babe had made her play, the Nerd-Girl's sex life had been largely autoerotic. A few experiments with pimple-faced, over-excited and equally inexperienced nerd-boys had been deeply discouraging. Their pale, slug-like, prematurely ejaculating bodies failed to inspire. Bambi The Biker Babe was delightfully surprised to find in Jane a hot and horny Cinderella. Her boyfriend, Dirty Ernie, had suggested she give Jane a try. The biker gang always looked for the weak links. Why pay for information when you could, quite literally, suck it out of Plain Jane the Hopeless Nerd-Girl. Bambi slyly played her as they lay gasping together on the bed, totally fucked out. "It takes a woman's touch, eh, Jane?" Jane snuggled up close and peered at her adoringly with her near-sighted, cornflower blue eyes. "Well, it took a woman's tongue at any rate!" They both giggled. After a bit more sexual chit-chat, Bambi subtly moved the conversation on. "I hear that you set up the database for that beauty pageant." Jane was delighted to talk about her work. So few people were truly interested. As soon as she started talking about third normal form, outer joins, rollback segments and buffer pools, she could see them tuning out. Bambi, a biker babe on a mission, was fascinated. "Wow! Are you smart! I bet that not many people understand that stuff. It sure sounds complicated! So, tell me the difference between second normal form and third normal form again. You sure don't learn stuff like that riding with your tits pressed against the back of some ultra-violent stud-muffin and a big Harley vibrating pleasantly between your legs! Is there a fourth and fifth normal form? How high does it go?" Jane laughed delightedly. Nobody had ever given her the 'tell me more' routine before. She chattered on excitedly. Bambi gazed at her with admiring eyes. "I think an example would be good so that I can get it all clear. Could you dial in to, say, that beauty pageant database and show me how it all fits together?" Bambi waggled her eyebrows comically. "Let's have a skills exchange. Show me how you stored the skinny on the dynamite babes and I'll show you how to suck a girl's clit in a way guaranteed to make her pretty little eyeballs pop!" You don't have to have any computer hacking skills if you can tease an insider into getting the info for you. Stark naked, wearing only her thick glasses and a big stupid grin, sitting in Bambi's lap, Jane dialed in to the database. For the next hour, Bambi's fingers skillfully roamed over Jane's sex-starved young body, while Jane, squirming delightfully, operated the computer. Locked in an intimate embrace, they sorted through the contestants at the recent beauty contest. Bambi licked Jane's nipples while she printed off a fact sheet on each contestant. The fact sheet contained a picture, address, phone number, bio and vital statistics for each young lovely. It was a big city and a local contest so there were lots of local girls to choose from. Jane looked at the pile of fact sheets and gazed adoringly at Bambi. "I should be jealous." Bambi waggled her eyebrows comically. "What do you mean? There's plenty of fantasy material here for both of us!" Jane laughed. "You think that any of them are lesbian?" Bambi was decisive. "Definitely! Some of them were probably sleeping with the judges and not all of them are male. It's how the pretty little bimbos get ahead." Bambi wrapped an arm affectionately around Jane. "You may not be beauty pageant material. For one thing, you're way too bright! I'll bet you can't say that you're greatest wish is for world peace with a straight face." Jane tried it. "My greatest wish is for a world class piece!" They both laughed. Pressing her erect nipples against Jane's bare back, Bambi reached around and gave Jane's big boobs a friendly squeeze. She stuck her tongue into Jane's ear and whispered eagerly into the moistened orifice. "I'll take you to some bars and show you around. I bet the girls will be lining up for a chance to stick their faces in your muff and do some canyon yodelling!" Jane was wide-eyed, picturing herself as the toast of a lesbo bar with her pick of playmates. She looked at Bambi wistfully. "Wow! Do you really think so?" Bambi was supremely confident. "I'll show you how to dress and what to do. A smart kid like you will pick it up in no time!" Bambi innocently picked up the pile of fact sheets. "Mind if I keep these?" Jane shrugged indifferently. "I don't care. I can get them anytime and the contest is over until next year. You really want them?" Bambi gave her a lewd little smile. "Let's face it. You have access to all this yummy material any time you want. I'm just a poor biker chick." Jane laughed. Bambi eyed her thoughtfully. Jane wasn't beauty contestant material, but she was definitely a keeper. A lonely, sex-starved girl with a dynamite bod had definite potential. Bambi sat on the edge of the bed and smiled radiantly. Time for some fun. "Stick your face between my legs and I'll show you how to make a girl's eyeballs pop." She looked at Jane deadpan. "When you're going after the bull dykes, it's a definite survival skill!" Jane giggled, got down on her knees and attended her first class in Muff Diving 101.
Chapter 2 - Booby Trap Bambi The Biker Babe sat in the office 'borrowed' by Belial's Brethren and consulted the fact sheets eagerly provided by Jane, now a devout lesbyterian, printed off from the beauty pageant's database. The pageant had been over for a while. Bambi riffled through the fact sheets, scoping out the meat. It was a big city, a local pageant and most of the contestants lived nearby. Her boyfriend, Dirty Ernie, snuck up behind, gave her a friendly little grope, picked her up effortlessly, sat down and planted her firmly in his lap. Together, Bambi and the massive biker poured over the fact sheets. The info on the fact sheets was remarkably complete and provided valuable information for the discerning white slaver. One thing they noticed was that it was a real whitebread contest. Bambi and Dirty Ernie grinned. Everyone liked fucking over a pretty white princess. Bambi ground her hips playfully, charming the snake. Dirty Ernie's pant python sprang up instantly, responding magnificently to the challenge. Bambi loved her job as talent scout for Belial's Brethren. The Brethren was a biker gang specializing in prostitution and porn. Bambi thoughtfully crossed a diabetic off the Fuckmeat List as being too high maintenance. She moved her name to the Snuff Star List. When they finished sorting out the candidates and her massive playmate had unloaded volcanically inside her, naughty Bambi, still impaled, picked up the phone and coyly put on her best secretarial voice. "Hello, Brandi? This is Serena Beauty Associates. You know, the ones that ran the Serena Beauty Pageant? One of the sponsors, Tanglefree, is giving each of the contestants a free supply of their Tanglefree Hair Care products and $1,000 cash. This was part of the pageant all along, but there was a clerical oversight. The sponsor got their advertising, but the contestants didn't get the Tanglefree hair care products or the thousand dollars in cash. We're staying open late on Thursday evening just to deliver the cash and the products. Would you care to drop by and pick up the products, they come in a Gucci carrying case, along with your thousand dollars cash money?" Bambi listened briefly to the delighted response. "By the way, we've moved our offices." She gave the address of an insurance broker that had thoughtfully put up a sign saying that he would be on vacation for two weeks and referring his customers to his brother's insurance brokerage in the meantime. The Brethren would quietly 'borrow' his office Thursday evening. "It still has the insurance broker's sign on it, but just go right in. It's really us. If you have call display, could you tell me if your phone shows us as Serena Beauty Associates?" Bambi sounded exasperated at the response. "I thought so! We've been having some problems with the phone company. This new move has been a real mess." Bambi perked up. "Well, at least you'll get your cash money and beauty products in their Gucci carrying case on Thursday. I know that for sure because I'm looking at both of them right now! See you Thursday at 7:00 pm sharp, Brandi." The Brethren would be waiting with their trusty bottle of chloroform as the Fuckmeat and Snuff Stars strolled in with their moneymakers pumping playfully between their shapely legs.
Chapter 3 - The Bitch Bus The big bus with the blacked out windows drove steadily through the night, moving it's moaning cargo of fresh meat far from their family and friends. There was actually a small fleet of Bitch Buses to keep the Brethren's whores on the move. That way, each whorehouse got regular shipments of fresh meat and the girls could never settle in and make friends. The kidnapped fuckmeat remained isolated and helpless. The Brethren, part of a worldwide affiliation of biker gangs, ran a huge chain of whore houses. It was an extremely profitable franchise. Their hard-humping whores were paid in sperm, disease and abuse while the bikers scooped the cash. Madam Beulah looked down the bus at her new bitches. An athletic woman, black as a coal pit at midnight, Beulah loved turning pretty blond princesses into scumsucking white trash. Stripped naked, each of the beauty queens was hanging upside down in the aisle, her dainty ankles strapped to the luggage rack on either side, spreading her shapely legs nicely. The row of exposed slits gaped prettily. Nude and sweating, their slim wrists bound behind them, luscious lips wrapped around large rubber ball gags, they swayed gently as the bus rolled onwards. Their big bare boobs bounced in unison with each bump in the road. Now that they had all awakened from chloroform dreamland, Beulah went to work. She moved down the aisle, feeling up each bound beauty in turn, lewdly groping and obscenely squeezing, making sure, with the help of depraved delvings and perverted pawings, that each one understood that she was a piece of meat. Beulah took her time with each one, making sure that each snotty little whitebread princess was flushed and gasping prettily before moving onto the next. Now that the pretty princesses understood that they were meat, it was time to open their holes for business. Beulah snapped on the rubber glove. The swaying, helpless princesses moaned in fear. Beulah inhaled deeply. She loved the smell of a sweating bitch. She sprinkled a bit of talcum powder on the glove and rested it on the exposed crotch of the first panting princess. The lovely blond bombshell squealed frantically into her gag as Beulah wormed her fingers into her tight little fuck hole. She shreiked higher and higher as Beulah's hand burrowed in like a rabid weasel. Beulah buried her fist forearm deep, twisting, groping, pinching viciously deep inside her shreiking victim. The others watched, wide-eyed, moaning desperately, panting hard, slick with sweat, in deep dread. Beulah withdrew her fist and pulled off the glove. The blond bombshell sobbed brokenly, mistakenly thinking that the lesson was over. The swaying row of princesses watched, pretty eyes bulging, as she put on a new glove, really greased it up, parted the first princess's asscheeks and began insinuating her fingers anally. The sobbing blond bombshell cranked it up even higher, screaming long and hard as her anal orifice was opened wide while the others watched, twisting and struggling frantically. Beulah had arranged her white-bread princesses so that the prettiest were last. They were going to get the most work, so they had to be sweated the hardest. They were given the longest time to anticipate being fist-fucked vaginally and anally. Sobbing and quaking with fear, they had the most complete mental melt-down possible as Beulah moved down the aisle, snapping on a fresh glove for each hole to be fist-raped.
Chapter 4 - Tenderizing The Meat The Bitch Bus and it's load of blubbering fuckmeat drove right inside a large warehouse in the middle of nowhere. The bikers had purchased the warehouse from a bankrupt shipping company. It's large size and remote location made it ideal for a wide range of nefarious activities. Beulah counted at least a hundred motorcycles parked inside as the large warehouse doors slid shut behind the bus. A row of mattresses was set up in the middle of the warehouse. The bus pulled up next to them. The big, burly bikers gathered round. Time to break in the new bitches. Dirty Ernie and Toecutter climbed into the Bitch Bus. Used exclusively to ship the whores around, it stank of sex, piss, shit, vomit and sweat. From the look of the swollen cuntlips spread out before them, they could tell that Beulah had been hard at work. They each grabbed an ankle and lowered the first tear-stained beauty to the floor. They released the blond bombshell from bondage so that she could get some much-needed exercise. If she wanted to try to escape, the odds of a nude, delicate princess overcoming at least a hundred cruel, vicious bikers were remote, to put it mildly. Each panting princess was taken down and hustled out to the mattresses. Stark naked, they were spread-eagled on their backs and began opening their aching fuckholes to teams of hard, horny bikers. The screams, sobs and whimpers of violated femininity mixed with the grunts of unloading bikers. Beulah watched in satisfaction from the office window overlooking the warehouse floor. The snotty little bitches would be roguered thoroughly, each delectable golden girl team-creamed repeatedly until there was no fight or resistance left. After that, they'd be more than ready to start their careers as hard-humping whores.
Chapter 5 - The Meat Goes To Market Each dishevelled beauty sat silently in the bus, a large tampon stuffed up her burning cunt to keep her from leaking. Their handcuffed hands rested in their laps. Each wore only a flimsy t-shirt with PROPERTY OF THE MEAT LOCKER stencilled on the back. It just barely covered their heinies. Well-chewed nipples and sperm soaked pubic triangles were clearly visible through the flimsy fabric. Beulah stood at the front of the bus and clapped her hands for attention. Time for the pep talk. "OK, bitches. Listen up!" The raped-over beauties stared at her dully. It had been a long, hard trip. Being fist-fucked and gang raped takes a lot of the snot out of even the haughtiest beauty queen. "From now on, you're whores. You strip. You suck. You fuck. You wiggle your bums. You jiggle your tits. You are the personal property of Belial's Brethren. They need white meat for their whore houses, fuck flicks and stroke mags and you're it. You do what you're told or you get hurt. You will be asked to do stuff that's painful and degrading. I guarantee that, if you refuse, you will be punished and then you will find yourself doing something much more painful and degrading." A pretty blond muttered despondently, "Oh, that's just great. Tell us some more good news." Beulah nodded at a biker in the aisle near the pretty blond mouthpiece. He grabbed her by the handcuffs, pulled them up over her head, lifted her off the seat and popped her in the diaphragm with a rock-hard fist. He let go and she dropped back into her seat. The pretty blond doubled over and tried to suck air from between her kneecaps. Beulah stalked over and wrapped a fist in her long silken hair, pulling her pretty gasping face up. "Nobody likes a mouthy whore, bitch. You speak only when spoken to or when you're hustling a john. You mouth off again and I'll sew every opening in your body shut while the cameras roll. The freaks will pay big bucks to see that. Don't tempt me." The pretty blond apologised to the fierce black whore trainer as sincerely as she knew how. Beulah chatted encouragingly about the importance of obedience and discipline and the unspeakable consequences of defiance. She showed them pictures and spelled it out for them. The battered beauties were totally convinced.
Chapter 6 - Cunt Busting 101 The Bitch Bus pulled into a back alley, the rear entrance to The Meat Locker. The scantily clad beauties were herded into a room with a small platform at one end. Beulah stood on the platform and held up a device that looked like a heavy duty flashlight with a steel dildo protruding from the end. "This is a pussy prod. Periodically, after you've finished with a customer, this will be stuck up your cunt and your performance will be reviewed. If you were inadequate, you will be prodded." Beulah pointed at the blond who spoken up on the bus. "You. The Mouthy One. Come up here and bend over." The pretty blond was terrified. "No. No. Please! Not me. I'll do whatever you want." Madam Beulah was firm. "What I want, bitch, is for you to come here and bend over." Slowly, reluctantly, the pretty blond came forward and stood on the platform next to Beulah, her big tits aquiver, a scared little bunny. "Please don't." Beulah looked at her with ice-cold eyes. "Remember the guarantee?" The pretty blond swallowed hard. "If I don't do what you want, no matter how painful and degrading, I will be punished and then made to do something even more painful and degrading." Beulah barked out her commands like a drill sargeant. The thoroughly cowed blond, shaking badly, obeyed slowly. "Turn your back to the audience." "Bend over." "Spread your legs nice and wide." "Remove your tampon." "Spread your cuntlips with your fingers so that even the bitches at the back can see the pink." Slowly, tremulously, the pretty blond obeyed each command. While she stood on the stage, exposing herself lewdly, Beulah oiled up the prod. The pretty blond gasped as it was plunged it. Beulah looked around at her captive audience. "What did Lips here do wrong?" Women are always wonderfully critical, happy to release their Inner Bitch. A busty raven- haired beauty with long, black hair flowing down to the back of her knees chirped right up. "She was slow doing what you wanted and she kept arguing with you." Beulah liked giving the girls a whore name. "Absolutely correct, Raven." Beulah squeezed the trigger. The pretty blond, whose whore name from now on was Lips, screamed and dropped to her knees. Beulah pulled out the prod with an audible pop. Lips cupped her crotch with both hands, sobbing hard. Beulah let her sob a while to impress the others. "OK, Lips. Get up and stand at the edge of the stage." Lips did it. Beulah looked at the long-haired beauty. "You, Raven. You've seen the drill. Come up here and assume the position." Raven was a natural. She bounded onto the stage with alacrity, long hair flowing beautifully behind her. She bent over, lost the tampon, burrowed her fingers deep into her cunt and shamelessly showed everyone an amazing amount of pink. It contrasted nicely with her neatly trimmed strip of coal black pubic hair. Beulah oiled up the prod and plunged it home. She turned to the pretty blond, who stared back like a rabbit trapped in the headlights. "Did she do everything right, Lips?" Lips nodded. Beulah cupped her ear like someone who was hard of hearing "I asked you a question, Lips. I didn't hear an answer." Totally panic-stricken, the pretty blond blurted out the words. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Yes, she did it right. She did what was asked promptly and she didn''t argue." "Right." Beulah pulled out the prod and patted Raven on the bare buttock. "Good girl." One by one, she ordered each of them up, gave them their whore name and put them through the routine. Thoroughly cowed by the fierce black whore trainer, each modelled her performance on Raven. Each got a pat on her bare bum and a 'good girl'. Breaking in the new bitches was proceeding nicely. Beulah glared at Lips. "OK, Lips. Lets do it again. Do it right this time." Shaking badly, Lips did it, spreading her raw, swollen cuntlips wide for the prod. Beulah rammed it in, jerked it out, laughed and slapped her on the rump. "Ladies, you stink and you look like sperm-soaked rats! Time to hit the showers. Then you go to hairdressing, make-up and costumes. After that, you'll each be assigned a cubicle in a section of The Meat Locker we call The Porking Lot. You'll start off performing quickie suck-fucks for the customers. One of the other girls will show you what's required beforehand. Don't bother telling your sad story to the customers. Nobody's interested. If you try to bore them with your story, it's the prod. Each cubicle is monitored by a hidden camera and hidden microphones. Remember what I said about your performance being evaluated." The Meat Locker was due to open for business soon. One by one, the rookie nookie was hustled off to the showers to be hosed down until only Lips remained. Beulah smirked at the trembling beauty. "Lips, you're all mine." Lips, a beauty queen to the core, did her best to look totally enchanted, but it was a pretty pathetic effort.
Chapter 7 - A Star Is Born Pretty face buried in Beulah's bush, Lips was on her knees, licking and sucking hard, red-faced with exertion and shame. Beulah sighed happily and lifted Lips head. Lips panted hard, grateful for the opportunity to breath, her face dripping with Beulah's cuntjuice. "That was good, Lips. Don't bother wiping off the cuntjuice. It's good for your complexion and makes you smell like a dirty little slut." The black whore trainer grinned wickedly. "That was so good that I'm going to make you a star, Lips." Lips was trotted over to costumes to be fitted with a schoolgirl outfit. Beulah selected a nun costume for herself. She trotted Lips over to the studio. Before she opened the door, she stopped, cupped Lips' pretty blond face in her hands and stared into Lips' cornflower blue eyes. "I expect a really professional performance here, honey. I want you to dig deep and take it all in stride, like you do it all the time. Understand?" Lips, deeply fearful, her heart hammering against her ribs like a gorilla pounding the bars of his cage, nodded submissively. Beulah opened the door. The crew was waiting: three cameramen, a sound man, a lighting man, and a director. The director, a bull dyke named Jo, looked coldly at Lips. "OK, listen up, bitch. The name of the movie is Slit Licking. The idea is that you are a schoolgirl in a convent school who's done something naughty - you refuse to wear underwear. I see that you're not wearing a bra. If you're wearing panties, lose them right now." Red-faced, feeling stupid, Lips peeled off her panties while everyone watched. Jo put the panties in her pocket. "Still listening, bitch?" Lips nodded. "You've been sent to the sister here for discipline." She gestured at Beulah who, somehow, managed to look wonderfully innocent and pious in her nun's costume. "Deny that you're not wearing any underwear. After that, just do what Beulah says and remember to call her 'sister'. Look humble and contrite. Be totally submissive, a naughty girl who knows she's been caught out and deserves to be punished. Got it?" Lips nodded and replied in a hoarse voice. "Yes." Jo had a bit of helpful advice. "When the punishment begins, it's OK to scream." Lips felt like her heart had been stomped. "Just remember the guarantee, bitch: if you refuse to do something painful and degrading, you'll be punished and then forced to do something even more painful and degrading. Understand?" The pretty blond swallowed hard. "I understand." Jo began shouting instructions through a megaphone. "OK, everybody get in position! The bitch sits primly in front of the desk and Beulah stands behind it." Beulah stood. Lips sat. The bright lights snapped on. The cameras started rolling. The sound guy gave the thumbs up. Jo nodded at Beulah. "Do it." Beulah looked sternly at Lips and began speaking her immortal lines. "You've been a very naughty girl, Brandi." Lips nodded nervously and tried to look penitent. "Yes, Sister." Beulah curled her lip. "The other girls say that you refuse to wear any underwear, Brandi. You think that it's a big joke that the rest of us will never get." In case Lips had stupidly forgotten her instructions, Jo helpfully flashed a sign that said DENY IT! to help the dumb cunt along. A beauty queen used to sweating it out in front of an audience, Lips delivered the goods. "I wear underwear, Sister. It would be indecent and disrespectful not to!" Off-camera, Jo nodded approval. Beulah stood, stepped around the desk, faced the pretty blond and spoke portentously. "We'll just have to see, Brandi." Beulah helped Brandi out of her schoolgirl blazer. Playing for the cameras, she untucked the white blouse. Slowly, sensuously, she undid the buttons. She stepped behind schoolgirl Brandi and opened the blouse wide. The pretty blond's big bare boobs bounced for the cameras, big nipples delightfully erect. Beulah shook her head. "No bra. Let's see about the rest!" Beulah unhooked and unzipped the pleated skirt, jerking it down to reveal that Lips was a natural blond with a rich silky pubic thatch. "No panties, either!" The pretty blond stood in her kneesocks and penny loafers while the three cameras panned over every crack and crevice, every quivering hill and delectable valley of her truly glorious bare bod. Sister Beulah's voice cracked out like a whip. "You're scum, Brandi! Sewer filth! A disgusting pervert in the eyes of the Lord! You must be punished to teach you the error of your ways! Prepare to feel the wrath of God!" Clad only in kneesocks and penny loafers, surrounded by grinning men with cameras recording every aspect of her nakedness, the pretty blond licked her lips nervously. She tried, within the hopeless confines of her role, to avert the shitstorm that it was OK to scream through. "Yes, Sister. I'm very, very sorry, Sister. Do you think God could ever forgive me my evil ways if I was truly penitent, Sister?" Sister Beulah's eyes glittered. "Life is hard, Brandi. You must work very, very hard for forgiveness." She gestured at a heavy wooden captain's chair. "Stand behind the chair, Brandi. Bend over the back of the chair and grab the front legs." Brandi did it and was none too reassured when Beulah taped her wrists to the front legs with duct tape. "Spread your legs, Brandi. You must have no shame in front of the Lord!" She must have no shame in front of the cameras either. The pretty blond spread her legs and the cameras zoomed in for beaver shots. While her slit was being photographed thoroughly from every angle, her dainty ankles were taped to the back legs of the captain's chair to keep them spread. Lips begged. "Please, Sister. Be merciful." Sister Beulah was firm as she picked up the leather razor strap. "You're a dirty little tramp, Brandi. There is no mercy." The pretty blond's cornflower blue eyes opened wide as the strap whistled up between her legs and kissed her clit hard. She opened her mouth and screamed piercingly. The sound man used a shotgun mike to capture the crisp smack of the razor strap on achingly sensitive female flesh. At the same time, he was busy catching every sob, whimper, shreik and gasp. One cameraman focussed on her pretty face as she opened her mouth wide and screamed like a fire siren. One panned freely over her body, catching a quivering tit or a clenched fist or a dimpling bare buttock. The third faithfully recorded each stroke of the strap as it licked hard between her legs. Beulah, an athletic girl, shellacked her love lips thoroughly. The razor strap slashed upwards pitilessly. The pretty blond's cuntlips were red and swollen and she was bawling like a baby, the snot running from her nose, when Beulah decided that she was done. "There! That should make you an honest woman for a while!" Jo waited a beat and then raised the megaphone to her lips. "Cut! Take five and then we'll do the alternate ending." Lips raised her tear-stained face. Her voice quivered hoarsely. "The alternate ending?" Jo nodded. "Yeah. Where you do your tits!" Beulah looked at her razor strap and the pretty blond's big boobs. She grinned wickedly as the pretty blond bawled even louder.
Chapter 8 Snuffed Muff - Introduction To The Dance The biker at the front of the Bitch Bus was reading the tabloid article with interest (Mystery of the Disappearing Beauty Queens Solved! Abducted By Space Aliens! Mars Wants Our Women!). He shook his head and put the newspaper down as the bus pulled into the warehouse. The hooded Snuff Stars were unloaded from the Bitch Bus and hustled into the remote warehouse. Their leather hoods cut off all sight and sound. Only two small breathing holes connected their leather encased heads to the outside world. The Snuff Fluffers were trotted onto the Snuff Wars set first. They were divided off into two teams, four Fluffers per team, one team with red stiletto heeled booties and the other with black. Their job was to suck the rapists to erection so they could ram it into their team's Snuff Queen. The Snuff Queen who had the most rapists unload into her in a two hour period won the contest. The other team and her Fluffers would be beheaded. The cameras would capture it all for the lucrative snuff film market. Wrists handcuffed behind them, the nude lovelies, hobbling along in their stiletto heels, were guided by fingers pinching their nipples, onto the Snuff Wars set. To help establish the atmosphere, the cameras rolled briefly as each Snuff Fluffer was forced to squat down and had two belts cinched tight. Each belt clamped one of her thighs to the corresponding ankle, forcing her to either remain squatting or fall over. Two rows of four short, thick greased poles were set in the floor, carved like giant penises, projecting upwards. A towering guillotine awaited it's victim between the two rows of thick carved penises. The Fluffers squatted awkwardly, hooded, handcuffed, thighs pressed tight against their calves in stiletto heeled booties. Once her thighs had been cinched to her ankles, each pretty Fluffer was lifted up and her thighs parted. Each Fluffer squealed as she was, none too gently, lowered down and had her cunt impaled on one of the thick, greased poles. Once they had been impaled in two rows on either side of the guillotine, cunts wrapped tightly around the giant greased penises, the cameras were turned off and the squatting beauties had their hoods removed. There was a bit of noise when the sucksluts were relieved of their intrusive dildo gags and could vent their displeasure. Once the squatting Snuff Fluffers had been, none too gently, quieted down, the hairdresser and make-up girl touched up each of the sullen beauties so that she looked her absolute sluttiest for the cameras. Nipples were rouged, pinched hard and iced erect. Pubic hair was combed and fluffed. They were sprayed with mineral oil to give them that nice sweaty look that everyone likes to see in a mouth whore desperately gobbling dicks, sucking for dear life. While this was going on, the two Snuff Queens, in thigh high whore boots, were unhooded and made up. They stood, quaking in fear, offstage, awaiting their turn to be introduced by the Snuffmeister, brutally gang banged and then possibly beheaded. Neither of them could take their eyes off the massive guillotine with it's heavy glittering blade. It was time for the show to begin. A masked leather bitch in a catwoman costume was the Snuffmeister for the evening. A smug throaty purr of a voice went perfectly with the costume. The cameras followed her as she strode masterfully up to the guillotine. She raised the microphone to her lips. "Welcome to Snuff Wars! Two teams of whores compete. Tonight, it's The Sluts vs The Slits. The Sluts are in black and The Slits, appropriately, are in red. On each team, four Fluffers suck the men erect and almost to the point of orgasm. Once erect, our eager rapists trot over to that team's Snuff Queen, ram it in, unload and jerk it out. Then the next one steps up and does the same. It's a brutal, high friction event. The Snuff Queen who gets porked the most times in two hours wins. The other has a date with Madam Guillotine here. Her inadequate Fluffers will be beheaded with a samurai sword by our Masked Ninja Warrior. The winners get an all-expense-paid trip to a foreign country - a fabulously expensive vacation spot! They also win some absolutely exquisite jewelry. Our losers will get a treat too for our Masked Ninja Warrior is a true master of the samurai sword." The cameras panned over to the Ninja, who gave a brief, glittering display of some stunningly smooth, unbelievably high speed sword work. He tossed a canteloupe into the air, his gleaming blade moved faster than the eye could follow and a neatly sliced canteloupe fell to the ground. The Snuff Fluffers paled and suddenly looked much sweatier. On this happy note, the leather bitch smirked. "I'll interview the Head Fluffer for each team. Let's see what they have to say. We'll talk to Big T, the Head Fluffer for The Sluts, first." She bent down and held the microphone in front of an unbelievably well-endowed beauty for a nice bitch-to-bitch chat. "Big T! Welcome to Snuff Wars! You have a truly awesome set of honkers there! We're talking some serious saline implants! I hear that there's a bit of a story behind that." The bound, squatting beauty shifted uncomfortably. "Yeah. I used to need a 38D bra. Then, after I was kidnapped and forced into whoring, the boys met a Doctor who said that he could give me implants, no anesthetic, as long as they could hold me down while he operated." The leather bitch laughed delightedly. "He sounds like a real credit to the medical profession." "Yeah, he was a bird's turd OK." "So, tell me, Big T. Did he want anything in return for his services? He did spectacular work. That's an amazing set of breastworks!" "Yeah, everyone calls me Big T now. Nobody looks me in the face anymore. I see that your cameramen are no exception!" This drew some rueful laughs from behind the set. Big T resumed her tale of pumped up passion. "He didn't want much for his services. He just wanted to hear me scream. They videotaped the whole thing. I suppose they sell it to sick perverts everywhere." The leather bitch laughed. "Probably the same sick perverts who watch this! Can guys get close enough to get their dicks in your mouth?" Big T snorted. "Yeah. They can ram it down my throat no problem. Trust me!" The leather bitch straightened up and addressed the cameras. "We'll see Big T's gobbling style in a moment. Well, maybe not, if everyone's watching her tits bounce! Let's talk to the Head Fluffer for The Slits." She bent down to talk to a spectacular redhead. "Tell me, why do they call you Swamp? Are y'all from Louisiana or something?" The redhead looked at her forlornly. "It's because I do the diesel dykes. I spend a lot of time with my face buried in some bitch's swamp, doing some bird washing. I do the Dykes With Bikes motorcycle gang regularly. They like my tongue work." "You can do guys too, I suppose?" "Yeah! When they run out of dykes, I get to suck cock and gulp down sperm. I'm mainly a mouth whore." She sounded a bit depressed. To cheer her up, the leather bitch nodded at the ninja. "If you guys win, do you think I can pursuade him to chop off Big T's tits before he chops off her head?" Swamp glanced briefly at the sinister hooded assassin skilfully slicing the air with his glittering, razor sharp blade and shuddered. Her tits shuddered right along. "Guy like that? No problem! The only question he'll ask is: how thin do you want the meat sliced?" Behind the catwoman mask, her eyes dipped between Swamp's legs. "Those wooden dildoes are huge! That's gotta hurt!" "Yeah, it hurts a lot! Thanks for asking!" "Do you think that it will distract from your performance?" Swamp eyed her sourly. A redhead with a redhead's temper, she replied warmly, beginning to lose it. "Listen, lady. I've been kidnapped, beaten, raped, gang banged, forced into prostitution and worked over with electric prods. What do you think, lady? You think I'm not going to be able to suck some disgusting pervert's dick just because some stupid piece of wood is rammed up my cunt?" The leather bitch laughed in her face, straightened up and addressed the camera. "It seems that Swamp has a bit of an attitude problem! Of course, each of these bitches was selected to be on Snuff Wars by their management, so they must have pissed off somebody important. Like most whores, they're basically dumb cunts. On the other hand, there is the theory that dumb cunts are the best fucks! We'll be putting that to the test soon, but first, talking of dumb cunts, lets chat with one of the Snuff Queens." Dripping with sweat, shaking badly, tottering in her shiny black, thigh high whore boots, eyes fixed on the massive blade of the towering guillotine, the first Snuff Queen was trotted out. Muffy looked scared shitless as she was strapped down on the raping board, arms clamped to her sides, thighs strapped to ankles, legs spread wide, cunt open for business. She looked up wide-eyed at the smirking leather bitch and her microphone. "Muffy, Queen of The Sluts, welcome to Snuff Wars!" Absolutely terrified, Muffy stared at her, a petrified rabbit. Looking into Muffy's eyes, it didn't look like there was a lot left alive inside. Muffy finally figured out a response as the smirking leather bitch waved the microphone under her nose and nodded encouragingly. "Uh, hi." The leather bitch rolled her eyes at this brilliant bit of repartee, but continued gamely. "What everyone wants to know is: how tight's your hole?" Again, there was a bit of a wait while poor, petrified Muffy figured it out. "Uh, pretty tight." "That's a big relief to your Fluffers! We've already heard from Swamp, Head Fluffer for The Slits and Big T, your Head Fluffer. They were both quite vocal. Anything you want to say to the audience?" Another pause and another brilliant response. "Uh, no." The leather bitch laughed, shook her head ruefully and straightened up. "She's so dumb that she's got to be an absolutely legendary fuck!" She gestured at the guillotine. "Let's have a demo of how this puppy works!" She tapped the board that Muffy was strapped to. "Each of the Snuff Queens is strapped to a raping board for the gang bang. To chop off their heads, we simply lift the board and place it on the bed of the guillotine." Six bikers in executioners' masks lifted Muffy's board with Muffy on it and slid it along the bed until Muffy's neck was resting under the blade. "We clamp her pretty little neck in place." Muffy's neck was clamped down. She stared up at the glittering blade towering high above her with bulging, frantic eyes, a very scared little puppy. "The blade is triggered by pulling this pin." Muffy's neck was unclamped and a watermelon was clamped down instead. Muffy's board was slid back so that the top of Muffy's head was just touching the watermelon. The leather bitch pulled the pin. The gigantic blade thundered down, sliced the watermelon in half with a big spray of red juice and stopped with an earth-shattering thump that made the thick wooden cunt-stretching penis shiver inside each Fluffer's love sheath. Half the watermelon dropped into a basket. An arc of bright yellow urine spurted from between Muffy's parted legs as she fainted. Several of the Fluffers lost bladder control as well. The leather bitch wrinkled her nose at this sudden spate of scattered showers and grinned as Muffy was revived. Muffy, still strapped to her raping board, was placed between the guillotine and her four ashen-faced Fluffers. "Now it's time to welcome the other Snuff Queen." The other Snuff Queen had been hustled out just before the guillotine blade thundered down so that she could have a ring-side seat. "At my side is Socket, the well-named Queen of The Slits! Welcome to Snuff Wars!" Socket, a very different beast than poor Muffy, looked at her coolly. "Frankly, I'd rather be in Peoria!" The leather bitch laughed genially. "But this is where the action is, Socket! Sex, violence and sudden death! We've got it all! Right here!" "What you've got right here is Sick Pervert Central." "Socket, let me take a wild guess! You talked yourself into being a Snuff Queen with that smart-ass mouth of yours." Socket nodded glumly. "Yup. Glad you figured it out, Einstein." The leather bitch smiled pleasantly. "It's really going to hurt, fucking as many guys as possible in two hours. With a bunch of guys ramming it in, giving a couple of pumps, unloading and jerking it out over and over and over again, your cunt's really going to burn!" Socket's pretty face twitched and the leather bitch knew she had scored. She was warmly reassuring. "Don't worry, Socket, darling! We'll ice it down when the swelling gets too bad!" "Great! Wonderful! Gee thanks, Mom! Maybe you can kiss it to make it better!" The leather bitch laughed pleasantly. After all, she didn't have to fuck the fleet. "Not likely! God knows where these guys have been!" She patted Socket's raping board and grinned. "I hear that you have a real snapping pussy to match that snapping tongue of yours!" Socket nodded glumly. She knew what she had to do. "I'll be sure and clamp down hard for my beloved rapists! I guess the Fluffers are depending on me." "Time to strap you to the raping board, Socket! Then a whole bunch of guys are going to plug in!" Pretty Socket was strapped down flat on her back, arms at her side, thighs strapped to ankles, legs spread, her tight snapping pussy open for business.
Chapter 9 - Snuffed Muff - Let The Games Begin! "OK! When the Starter Babe drops the checkered flag, the studs will step up to the Fluffers, get sucked erect and the long hard grind begins." The Starter Babe, wearing only high heels and a g-string, jiggling her tits and pumping her hips provocatively, sauntered insouciantly for the cameras with the achingly evocative walk of the veteran stripper. Even fully clothed, she would have drawn stares. Naked, in high heels and a g-string, she was devastating, pure sexual dynamite. Her arrogant attitude proclaimed the fact that the Starter Babe was fully aware of her power to melt men's minds and put the lead in their pencils. A guy would do the most butt-stupid things imaginable just for a taste. She raised the checkered flag and waved it back and forth over her head, her big bare tits waving right along. Everyone watched, totally enthralled. From behind, Toecutter quietly raised a sawed-off shotgun to the back of her head and squeezed the trigger. The powerful roar of the 12 gauge was deafening. The Starter Babe's pretty head vaporized in a gigantic red spray. Her superb body stood quivering for a moment, bare tits shaking wildly, as the bright red arterial blood fountained high from the stump of her neck. She collapsed - a headless, broken Barbie doll. The checkered flag fell fluttering into a rapidly widening crimson pool. The leather bitch laughed in the sudden silence. "Wow! I wonder who that haughty bitch pissed off?" Aimed waist high, the cameras panned along the members of the Rape Squad. All that was visible of the Rape Squad from the camera's point of view was a black studded motorcycle jacket and a pair of heavy motorcycle boots framing a big sausage and a heavy set of hairy balls. Each wore an executioner's mask so the cameras could capture the Snuff Queen's agonized face without revealing their identities during the quick, brutal ravagings. The Rape Squad stepped up and whipped their stiffening dicks back and forth against the gaping Fluffers' shocked faces. The leather bitch taunted them into action. "Fluffers! Wakey! Wakey! If you don't start giving head, you'll soon be giving up your head! The Starter Babe's dropped the checkered flag! Start gobbling, you turkeys!" Slowly at first, then with increasing spead and skill, the mouth whores started licking and sucking, running their tongues skilfully along the underside of the proferred penis, wrapping their luscious lips around the shaft and sucking hard. Their heads bobbed between the Rape Squad's legs, slurping them erect, giving a fine demonstration of the age old art of penilingus while the cameras rolled. Muffy grunted as the first rapist stepped up, and with no foreplay, brutally rammed it in and promptly unloaded. A second later, Socket was turned into a grunting pig by another hard and horny rapist. No sooner had one finished, then the next one stepped up and hammered it home as the two rows of obscenely squatting Fluffers worked frantically to bring them drippingly erect, seconds from unloading, using only their mouths, lips and tongues. It was the most brutal gang bang possible. Each rapist rammed a thick, dripping, rock hard piston into a Snuff Queen's aching fuck hole and almost instantly unloaded. Next to each Snuff Queen, a camera recorded each brutal violation, a counter at the bottom of the screen incrementing as each snotwad of bull gravy was hammered home. It wasn't long before Muffy and Socket's cunts were grotesquely swollen and had to be iced down in order to permit any penetration at all. Labia inflamed, red and raw, cunts dripping prick-juice, man-crud crusting on their wide-spread thighs, Socket and Muffy were grunting hard as the brutally invasive violations continued pitilessly. After the first hour of ceaseless, hard humping action, some of the Fluffers began to tire. The lovely, red-haired Swamp, used to the voracious apetites of bull dykes seeking the longest series of violent orgasmic eruptions possible, continued tirelessly, a well-oiled, superbly maintained sucking machine. Others, like Big T, whose true specialty was the tit job, working a dick trapped between her mammoth mammaries, began to misfire and mistime their ministrations. Big T began getting sprayed in the face and over her melons by over-sucked members of the Rape Squad. Others were just slower getting their rapist erect. For the Sluts, the pace began to slow appreciably. The more experienced mouth whores, the Slits, led by the masterful Swamp, ensured that Socket's tight flaming fuckhole was penetrated, pounded and pumped pitilessly. They kept Socket grunting and sobbing under the relentless assault of hard punching pricks. Muffy watched in horror as her team began falling behind. A whore to the core, ignoring the pain of her throbbing toll-hole, she clamped down and pumped hard, trying desperately to take up the slack and to compensate for rapists who weren't quite ready and needed a few extra strokes to unload. The Sluts, led by their Queen, a fierce fucking flatbacker, began to catch up. In the end, it was Big T's repeatedly over-blowing of her customers that decided it. The cameramen vied for angles as rapists repeatedly unloaded in Big T's pretty face and over her monster melons. The Rapists didn't look too upset at not having to stick it into Muffy's sodden miasmic swamp. As long as a guy unloads, he's happy. The buzzer sounded. It was all over. The Slits had won.
Chapter 10 - Snuff Wars - The Winners Socket's slit burned incandescently, flaming a bright red. Her lovelips, badly swollen, were a super-sized Cuntburger. The Slits' exhausted Queen was now definitively one of the most raped-over beauties of all time. The leather bitch bent over, microphone in hand. "Socket, Queen of The Slits! You've lived up to your name! How does it feel to be a winner?" "Horrible!" "We have a counselor who can help with that!" The leather bitch nodded towards the Masked Ninja Warrior, warming up for the beheadings with an awesome display of dexterity and swordsmanship. "No thanks!" "Are you looking forward to your prizes?" Socket knew the answer to that. "No. You'll find some want to fuck that up. I have faith in you, mom!" She looked between her sperm-soaked legs at her raw, grotesquely swollen love lips and her fuckhole oozing clam juice. Her bare ass was parked in a pool of prick puke. "Are you sure that you don't want to kiss it and make it better mom?" The leather bitch shook her head. "Have you ever heard of the Yakuza, Socket?" "Some sort of Japanese gangsters, aren't they?" "Not just 'some sort' of Japanese gangster! A three hundred year old criminal brotherhood, bigger than your Mafia, Socket! Do you know what Yakuza means?" Socket was a little disconcerted by the leather bitch's sudden fervor. "Uh, no. What does it mean?" "It means 8-9-3." "Wow! I'm really impressed! Is that some sort of stupid oriental lucky number?" "Actually, it's an unlucky set of numbers. It's one of the lowest hands in a game of cards called hanafuda or flower cards. The Yakuza pride themselves on being the lowest. That's your prize! Aren't you excited?" Socket scowled. "What do you mean 'that's my prize'?" The leather bitch's eyes gleamed. "You and your Fluffers have been traded to the Yakuza! Yakuza Crimson Dragon Productions is making you a movie star! You get an all-expense paid trip to Japan!" "Shit! The good news just never stops! I suppose these are fuck flicks?" The leather bitch grinned. "Actually, the Yakuza were pioneers of the snuff film. Yakuza Crimson Dragon Productions specializes in high-end snuff and torture films. This is one of them. It's part of a deal. Everybody wants to see a pretty American princess scream. It's a world-wide, universal taste. Your owners supply the white meat. The Yakuza supply production and world-wide distribution." "Wonderful! I suppose there's something wrong with the jewelry promise too?" The leather bitch laughed. "Nipple rings, Socket. You're a smart girl and lots of fun! I'll make sure that you last a long, long time!" Socket was scathingly sarcastic. "The good news never stops! I suppose this gentleman is here to pin the prizes to my chest?" Socket grunted as her nipples were pierced, swabbed with antiseptic and small golden rings inserted. There were small squeals as her Fluffers were pierced and ringed. The leather bitch moved over to the losers.
Chapter 11 - Snuff Wars - The Losers The Sluts were in total panic. Big T, her pretty face and titanic tits dripping with peckersnot, had the haunted look of a beauty who had, quite literally, blown it for everyone. The leather bitch showed her usual warm sympathy. "Wow! You look like someone who lost a mayonnaise fight! How did it feel having all those guys unload on you instead of in Queen Muffy?" Big T's lips were swollen. Two hours of blow jobs will do that. She spoke with difficulty. "Please! I'll do anything! Don't kill us! Please!" The leather bitch stood. She liked cozy little chats. Stupid pleadings from those with nothing to offer didn't interest her. "We'll give each of the winners a ringside seat." The Fluffers for The Slits groaned and sobbed as they were pulled off their poles. Each Slit Fluffer was tied, kneeling, behind a squatting Fluffer for The Sluts. A black studded leather belt, cinched tight around both their waists, clamped a Slit to a Slut so that each Slit's breasts were crushed against a doomed Slut's back. Muffy's raping board was lifted up and her neck clamped, once more, under the guillotine blade. Socket was tied face down on top of Muffy so that they were tit to tit and muff to muff. Socket's contorted face was pressed tightly against the board that clamped down Muffy's pale white throat, only an inch of board separating her face from the descending blade. She was going to feel Muffy's decapitation up close and personal. The screaming began in earnest as the Masked Ninja Warrior moved along the line of squatting Slut Fluffers, his samurai blade a blur, skillfully removing the very tips of their teats. Then he got serious. He moved down the line, shaving right to the bone, neatly debreasting each shreiking Slut with two quick slices, each breast landing neatly with a wet plop, face up. Saving the best until last, his blade sliced upwards in a further demonstration of his skill as a true Master Swordsman. Big T's tits summersaulted high in the air. Their saline sacks popped free. While still in the air, the flashing samurai blade burst them like the water balloons they were. Once more, he moved down the line of frantically shreiking Sluts. Behind every shreiking Slut, there was a shreiking Slit, feeling every quiver, shudder and jerk. A skilful flick of the glittering, razor sharp blade. Taut bare bellies slit open. Bloody intestines spilled out, trailing grossly to the ground in a tangled mess of guts. Slits and Sluts were shreiking like madwomen. One last time he moved down the line, slicing off their heads, sending them tumbling high in the air. The slashing blade narrowly missed the kneeling Slit behind. He made sure that each spurting neck sprayed it's blood in powerful heartbeat squirts into the face of the kneeling, puking Slit behind, drenching the hysterical lovelies thoroughly in bright red arterial blood. The leather bitch grinned and turned expectantly to the towering guillotine and the two screaming beauties clamped in an obscene embrace. "And now for the Grand Finale!" She paused dramatically and pulled the pin. The blade thundered down. Muffy was cut off in mid-scream as her head fell into the basket. Socket shreiked dementedly as Muffy's blood surged out her neck, bounced off the blade and flooded over Socket's head and shoulders. The leather bitch reached into the basket and pulled out Muffy's pretty head. The eyelids blinked. Her lips opened to emit a soundless shreik and then began mouthing silent obscenities. The leather bitch laughed delightedly. "NOW she figures out something to say! You lip readers can tell that it's none too flattering, too!" The lights went out in Muffy's eyes. The leather bitch tossed her head back into the basket and did her Porky Pig imitation. "Budee! Budee! Budee! That's all, folks!"
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