Warning: Nothing in the following story represents the beliefs or values of the author. It is entirely fictional, is intended for adults only, does not contain any reference to minors, and depicts both nudity and excessive violence. Please do not try any of the actions depicted at home. This is a story that belongs in the Extreme Stories library, and nowhere else. Everything about it is extreme, as it includes a level of sexual violence that is terminal, and can only be considered extreme. Be warned.
Feature Writer: Regis
Feature Title: HELICOPTER BITCHWHACKERS 9
Published: 24.05.2024
Story Codes: Erotic Horror, Snuff, Pregnant
Synopsis: This is the story of ten wealthy industrialists, most in the munitions business. They have developed a partnership around a mutual hobby — the destruction of shapely young women — involving dangling them beneath their helicopter at a remote seaside resort. It’s an erotic adventure with many shocks, twists, painful pokes, and horrors along the way. Enjoy.
Helicopter Bitchwhackers 9
“Use the telephone!” she screamed up at the helicopter, pleading with the men to explode the bomb lodged in her womb, to spare her the inevitable plunge to earth. They watched her with interest but made no moves to interfere with the script. This cunt was fulfilling their intent for her as she approached her inevitable death.
When the gradual movement of the dildo became steady, she looked across at her friend-turned-murderer. Instead of the intermittent movements, she could feel the shaft sliding steadily now.
“BITCH!” she screamed as the last inch of steel popped free and left her alone, moving away from the helicopter, accelerating rapidly downward through the air.
Caitlin’s abused rectum continued to gape wide open even after the dildo slid out, as if it couldn’t muster the strength to return to its normal shape as the seal to her lower digestive tract. The camera that had zoomed in tight when the dildo began to emerge followed the first part of her drop, holding a remarkable shot deep into her body before she accelerated out of close range.
The cameraman held focus and was able to capture her entire descent, zooming after her as she fell. Rushing air ripped the bright yellow squirt gun from Caitlin’s hands as she streaked earthward. At first, she spread her limbs wide as she had seen skydivers do, in an attempt to slow and control her fall.
The effect of her desperate attempt to decrease her descent was minimal and impossible to measure. The rushing wind pressed her big breasts flat against her chest, forcing them around the sides of her ribs. She slowly rotated until she was falling feet first, and her breasts were flattened against her shoulders.
She felt a strange vibration build slowly in her womb, then heard the low steady sound as her sex organ was forced open and she became a human wind whistle. She began to laugh hysterically at that bizarre and unexpected phenomenon, then she rolled, and somehow naturally settled into something between a squatting and sitting position, dropping ass-first.
The small drone helicopter with the camera aboard had gone into a steep dive as she slid off her anchor, and it chased her down, its lens locked on her open anus when it was in view. When she spread her limbs, the camera got an excellent shot between her legs of the wind holding open both her lower holes.
The man controlling the craft from the ground kept it as close as possible, although she was slowly pulling away from it. He proved his skill as he managed to maintain a position recording remarkable footage of her genitals, then spiraling around her, capturing her screaming face as she dropped.
When she settled into the sitting position, she looked down between her legs and saw the ranch house gradually growing, which other than the wind was her first confirmable sensation of motion, and as she plunged, the ranch house and the large helipad appeared to be approaching much more rapidly.
She was fully aware she was witnessing the final seconds of her life and knew there would be no miracles. She watched as if detached, immobilized by shock, as she saw she was heading right back to where they had started the fight-flight, speeding toward the center of the large solid concrete helipad.
She saw the glint of sunlight off a camera lens below her, then spotted a second camera, the SloMoCam, which one of the men was starting. It was not pointing up but was aimed instead at the center of the pad. Those sadistic assholes had planned this to be the way she would die all along!
This group of evil men had planned her fall to her death in minute detail. They wanted to film her being crushed as she hit the concrete! This was mad!! Her life was so precious, and now it was all being wasted so these men could get their rocks off watching her die, likely ejaculating.
Months later these wealthy playboys would get some kind of perverted pleasure watching the playback of the abominations they had forced on her. It sickened her to imagine them carefully reviewing extra-slow-motion footage of her being whacked, her naked body splattering against the solid concrete pad.
The utter helplessness of her plight as her body plunged toward the ground at nearly a hundred and twenty miles per hour, with the long-lensed cameras stationed below peering up into her wind-opened anus and vagina as she fell toward them butt-first, filled her with rage. Caitlin now had little time left for her petty grievances, however.
Even though time seemed to almost stand still as her mind raced, she saw the cameramen visibly tilting their cameras to track her progress down as she plunged toward a perfect landing, dead center of the large helipad. Tom was a professional and took pride in his bombing ability.
He had compensated perfectly for the slight but steady crosswind he had measured on the way up, and from five thousand feet had produced what looked like it would be a perfect bulls-eye. The men on the ground were prepared to get perfect shots of the naked bitch’s ass taking a monumental whack.
The helipad was constructed of five feet of reinforced concrete poured on a foundation of solid bedrock, capable of withstanding thousands of landings of the large helicopter fully loaded. The hundred-and-ten-pound girl, moving at top speed, would do the solid mass of the helipad no damage.
Dropping nude girls onto the pad from a high elevation was quite safe, as long as the ground crew stood well back to avoid being hit either by her direct fall or by the rapid scatter of her debris of blood and gore after her explosive and destructive contact with the solid concrete.
The men had made many such drops successfully and found that each was unique. No two nude women hit the same way, bounced the same way, or lost physical integrity in the same way. Each explosion of female flesh was a new and exciting experience, and they had the video and film to prove it.
To date none of the women they had dropped from such a high altitude had hit ass first. This would be a new and unique addition to their collection of videotaped bitch-drops. Head first, on their bellies and on their backs were the most common angles of contact, and a couple of nude ladies had come in sideways, and two more landed on their knees.
‘Landed’ does not quite capture the essence of their high-speed contact with the solid pad. Even ‘smacked’ is soft for the reality of their abrupt deceleration. Each nude woman to fall had provided a remarkable slow-motion event for their highly specialized camera, and this one looked like she would become another classic.
The experienced cameramen tracked Caitlin smoothly as she sped down toward her death, knowing that their high-speed video and the brilliant sunlight would provide remarkable slow-motion documentation of her abrupt collision with the concrete. They heard her scream only in the last few seconds of her rapid descent.
Her voice was shrill and piercing, growing in volume as she approached until it reached a substantial level, providing good audio for the shots filmed at normal speed. Screams recorded during the afternoon cunt whipping session would be processed, filtered and extended for use over the greatly extended slow-motion shots.
Sounds representing the horror experienced by the victim were valuable in enhancing the effect of the slow-motion camera. The super slow-motion video viewed without sound was so protracted that it became like a suspension of belief, and therefore lost much of its horror effect.
The sound of her shrill screaming would help keep the object they watched gradually disintegrating to remain a woman dying in the minds of the audience. The reality of her impact was so fast that it was impossible to catch all the finer details with the naked eye, or with a normal-speed camera.
Caitlin did indeed hit the concrete buttocks first, flattening her buttocks and fracturing her hip bones, foreshortening her torso, driving her spine up through her brain and out the top of her skull. Her shattering bones added both sharp and light crackling sounds to the dull thud of soft flesh making an extremely violent impact with solid immovable concrete.
The wave of pressure exerted on her internal organs caused the girl to burst, as her skin split and muscle tore open under the traumatic strain. Human meat, bones, and viscera were not intended to stop so abruptly from such a high speed and were unable to maintain their integrity with such dramatic trauma.
A well-structured geyser of rich red blood mixed with pulverized gore and her body fluids shot twenty feet in the air through the hole where her head and neck had been, before spreading to cover the entire concrete pad with the colorful liquid shower. The men documenting her discombobulating noticed it went straight up.
The spread of her gore at the apex spread and came down, spattering like an obscene rain, reaching almost as far as the camera positions sixty feet from ground zero. The men had anticipated her disintegration and stood well back, so they were not affected by the shower of vaporized girl-gore.
Her hands and feet hit the ground so hard they flew off, bouncing and spinning high in the air, and her limbs split open, revealing their reddish meat and her flesh-stripped bones. Her legs hit the ground with such force she rocked back almost instantly, forcing her head back out through the hole it had entered her torso, where her neck had been.
When her skull hit the cement it too exploded, ripping her face wide open, and throwing a chunky broth of brains in a spray ten feet to all sides. Her shattered naked body bounced into the air, but only five or six feet, and somehow landed once more on its back, or what was left of it.
Remarkably, once the brutal action stopped, the only part of Caitlin that remained undamaged was the flesh of her upper torso. That meant her magnificent tits, which had got her into all this trouble in the first place, stood proudly up among the unrecognizable wreckage that had once been her gorgeous body.
The meat of her breasts had separated from her ribs by the impact, but her resilient skin did not rupture, so that the incredible mammaries held their shape, mounted on the front slab of bitch ribs. She was a mess. One of the men took a cellular telephone from a box and the others zoomed back to get a full shot of the bitch-wreckage as he dialed.
When the last number was dialed, the crumpled lower body of the dead bitch blew apart, fulfilling her last wish a bit too late to help her. The resulting explosion sent one more spray of bitch meat and viscera out over the helipad. It would have been a shame to waste the womb-bomb, and dangerous to flush it out to sea unexploded.
With the action completed, the cameramen removed their cameras from the tripods and moved in close. They leisurely explored the extent of the damage done by the impact, letting their lenses linger over the bulging breasts, with bits of broken ribs sticking through the meat around them.
The cameramen had the foresight to put on rubber boots before strolling over the grisly mess that the pretty party girl had become. They had done this before. The pad would have to be thoroughly hosed down, making good use of the large drains conveniently positioned around the periphery.
Caitlin was indeed a loser and got a deservedly spectacular ending to her short life. The incongruous sight of the marvelous breasts standing out in the sunlight drew the attention of both men.
“Hey,” one of them said, “Doesn’t she know topless sunbathing is illegal in this state?”
Caitlin had received punishment worthy of a much greater crime. She had also performed for the group of men a remarkable death plunge, in a bitch killing as spectacular and rewarding as any of the afternoon. She was truly a cunt of cunts, and they knew they would enjoy playback of her spectacular plunge for years to come.
There was still her friend Tanya to be dealt with, swinging by the plug in her asshole a mile above them. The feisty cunt remained firmly attached to her chain, even though she was thoroughly soaked with the light fuel oil that had caused her friend to lose her grip on her dildo, and subsequently her life.
Tanya had watched in horror as her screaming friend had dwindled from a person into a tiny pink and then dark speck, and she had followed the dot with wide horrified eyes right down to the helipad until abruptly it had spread into a sizeable splash of brilliant red on the concrete surface so far below.
Her brain was numb to the inescapable reality of what was happening. From a mile above it looked like her friend had burst like a water balloon on contact with the ground. They had just killed Caitlin! Worse, she had enjoyed killing Caitlin. They had forced her into a position where she had no options but to cooperate in their murderous game.
These men were without heart or conscience. She had found it necessary to kill her friend with the shower of oil to win. The only other option she saw was to die in her place, and she had neither the inclination nor moral fiber to do that. She did not feel like a winner, swinging by a chain anchored to the steel plug so firmly planted in her colon.
Now she felt more than buck naked, her body slicked and gleaming in its covering of light fuel oil. She felt like a slab of meat and was sure the men thought no more of her. She felt not only discouraged but also enormously depressed. Tanya had hit absolute bottom, far deeper than she could ever have imagined bottom to be.
She was nothing but a cunt, truly a second-class citizen, but in the city, she knew how to put that to her advantage, by fucking all the millionaires she could manage. Here being a cunt meant she was valued only as a screaming sex object for abuse. Here when men beat their meat they were not masturbating, nude young women were their meat.
Tanya knew that her companion’s fate did not bode well for her returning to Los Angeles in time to be at work on Monday morning. It would take hours just to wash the oil out of her hair. On the other hand, until she was safely back in the city, she was not sure she would get the chance to wash her hair ever again.
What caused her further anxiety about her future was the return of the drone helicopter with its probing camera. It had taped Caitlin’s wild descent to hell but had returned to fix its probing lens on her. Whatever they had in mind for her, they wanted to capture it on video, and returning to the blood-spattered helipad with a gentle landing did not seem to be in their plans.
At least they were not taking her down to see what was left of Caitlin. It was so impersonal having that unmanned craft peering at her, hovering so close to her with its leering, invasive lens. It was moving below her as well, to capture close shots of her open pussy. This was all so dehumanizing she could not stand it.
The events of the afternoon proved to her these men were gratified only when their women died, and she was the only woman they had left, the others had all been violently wasted. She could hardly believe the others were all dead. It was a travesty, and she was sure they were about to repeat their killing quest.
All those beautiful young college girls they had lured here were now nothing but dead meat, in the water feeding the fish, and having recruited them, she had contributed to them being here, and she felt the incredible burden of responsibility for their deaths.
666
Only that sadistic waitress bitch jaqi the human rocket had deserved to die. She was the most evil female Tanya had ever met. The good-looking waitress bitch had willingly tortured the innocent girls with her lashing whip and had enjoyed softening them up for the men to kill with their heinous war toys.
The fact that she had also whipped her cunt until it bled was immaterial. She was a serious masochist to boot. Her incredibly debasing display of self-flagellation did nothing to undo the cruelty she had shown to the other girls, and what was worst was she had cooperated with the men. jaqi had deserved no pity, and Tanya had none for her.
Tanya suspected that waitress girl had been a masochist as well as an exhibitionist, and had enjoyed severely punishing her cunt for the amazement and amusement of the men. Tanya had enjoyed seeing that filthy whore flying like a rocket, and smashing into the buoy to get hers. Few people deserved that kind of treatment but jaqi had been an exception.
Tanya wondered if the beautiful young slut had enjoyed being so brutally killed. She doubted anyone could go that far, but the thought had crossed her mind. Her thoughts returned to the image of Caitlin’s horrible death. She shivered as she imagined her friend’s experience, rushing toward the ground and an explosive impact with the concrete pad.
She realized how easily it could have been her blasted apart by the rude collision with the earth. The thought made her feel anger and remorse. It wasn’t fair, but neither were any of these horrible men. Appalled by her participation in the proceedings and out of respect for the memory of her best friend, she pissed into the ocean so far below.
Tanya was so distraught she suddenly turned her squirt gun on herself and began soaking herself in oil. Maybe she could loosen her dildo and slide off it. It was a desperate thing to do, and irrational, but she was in a desperate situation and had now only a death wish to prompt her actions.
Her aim was at the chain between her legs, and at this distance, all of the oil hit the target. It ran down to her crotch, over the mound of her swollen rectum, and down over her torso, doubling the amount of oil Caitlin had squirted onto her during their revolting competition.
She understood she deserved to die the same kind of horrible death Caitlin had. She wanted to die and realized being smacked hard by the ground would be a quick and final as anything else these sadistic merciless men might have dreamed up for her. They were definitely going to kill her for sport, and she needed it to start.
When it was finally empty, she dropped the dreadful murder weapon. Although she was completely slathered with the refined petroleum blend, Tanya’s anal grip remained firm. It had been extremely difficult and painful to insert the two-and-a-half-inch thick dildo into her swollen rectum, but the result proved to be a secure anchor.
She realized with dismay she was not going to slide off the big bumpy steel rod, and began to weep in open despair as she wondered what now lay in store for her. She was certain it would not be anything good. The only question left for her to ponder was how, not if, the men were going to kill her.
Tanya thought of the gladiators in the Roman Coliseum who, upon entering, would turn to Caesar, raise their sword, and say “We who are about to die salute you!” She was not going to salute these assholes, but she knew for certain she was going to die for their amusement, regardless. There was nothing she could do to save her miserable life.
Tanya looked up at the helicopter and saw the fat guy named Andy grinning down at her through the open door. In his hand was a large box of wooden kitchen matches. As he pulled a big match out of the box, she suddenly felt a rush of panic. She was totally vulnerable to fire with her body soaked with the highly flammable light fuel oil.
What was worse was that she had just emptied her gun all over herself, giving herself a fresh coat of fuel and making herself into a potential torch. Now they wouldn’t have to use a flame thrower; a lit match would do the trick. Andy’s evil grin told her he was planning to set her on fire!
“You were pretty talented with that squirt gun, honey!” Andy shouted down at her. She could barely hear him against the roar of the helicopter’s powerful jet engines, but her focus was based on fear and allowed her to read his lips, supporting the bit of sound that reached her.
What he shouted next was absolutely clear, and terrifying: “Let’s see what acrobatic tricks you can do with fire!”
‘Jesus!’ she thought, ‘they don’t have and don’t need a fucking flame-thrower!’ Her mind ran wild, ranging from fear to anger at the realization at how once more she had been so easily and classically manipulated. ‘They were bluffing, just joking with the threat of blasting flame down onto us!
‘All they need is a simple fucking match to incinerate me! I’ve just provided them with all the fucking fuel they need to scorch me, make me into a living torch!’
He struck the match and dropped it toward her. She thrust her hips back, rocking her body on her anchor chain so that she could writhe out of the way. It worked. The large wooden stove match flashed brightly in the wind from the rotors as it sailed, flaming, down past her.
She looked up again to prepare to avoid the next match. The next was thrown on the other side of her, so she had to thrust her hips forward to avoid this one. This was an extremely dangerous game he was playing with her, and Tanya learned quickly, knowing her very survival depended on her agility in dodging the matches.
Any evasive movement took a great deal of effort and proved to be extremely taxing. The cameras were rolling, eagerly capturing her incredible dance on the end of the anal chain, and she was giving the men a remarkable show of erotic female movement, possible only for a woman like her, in excellent shape and with outstanding muscle toning.
The game went on and on, as another dozen matches flew and spiraled toward her in the downdraft. The nimble nude managed to avoid all of them, with a demonstration of unusual stamina. Tanya was not sure if it was entirely her skill, or if he was just playing with her.
The box had to contain at least a couple of hundred matches. He could go on like this into the small hours of the morning, and eventually ignite her. There was nothing she could do about him, but she did everything she could to keep out of the way of the constant parade of dropping flaming matches.
A death like Caitlin’s would be instantaneous once she hit the ground, but this prick was trying to torch her. She was getting very angry at his persistence, and tiring rapidly from the exertion of moving out of the way of each match. She was not sure if her endurance would take her through this extremely dangerous game. What was most frustrating was that fat Andy had lots of patience and a plentiful supply of matches.
Her excessive activity on the end of the chain, and the need to keep her head up to see the matches coming caused some of the oil to accumulate in Tanya’s eyes. It stung in her eyes and temporarily blinded her. She bucked, heaved, and twisted to make herself less of a sitting duck.
Andy had no trouble anticipating her moves, and compensating for them. The skilled bombardier carefully measured the nude bitch’s movements, and timed the drop of each match accordingly. Unable to keep her pained eyes on the fluttering flames dropping toward her, she made an easier target.
Tanya felt the temporary warmth as a match flew past her cheek, then another that brushed but did not ignite her breast. The end of the match that struck her was not the business end; the flame was a match-length away from her oil-soaked flesh. Seconds later she felt a tiny bump, followed promptly by the burning pain of fire on her left buttock.
Andy had scored. She was alight. Fanned by the downdraft of the big rotors, the fire quickly spread, and within seconds her entire body was quickly enveloped in a light transparent-orange flame. As she feared, Tanya had become a human torch. The heat that covered her entire body was intense.
The lovely brunette was suddenly transformed into a large orange fireball, with a heat so radiant the men with their heads outside the craft could feel the glow from the helicopter door. She screamed and thrashed, her limbs flailing in the air to demonstrate to the cameras and the watching men her intense agony.
Her body pitched and bucked so severely the men thought she might jerk herself off the dildo and fall to the pad so far below, but that would at worst be an interesting conclusion to her dance. This was a no-lose situation for the men, as it was a no-win situation for the rectally suspended naked women.
The accumulated oil around her rectum caused her fat to fry and the tight muscle ring or her sphincter to burn and char onto the metal, securely welding her to the steel dildo. That was a reasonable outcome, as the stainless-steel shaft could hardly be described as non-stick cookware.
The downdraft caused the oil covering her nude body to burn at high intensity, producing an incredible heat, but it burned so fast that, although it burned through the swinging party girl’s skin and melted the body fat under her skin, it did not excessively cook her meat before the oil was consumed and the fire went out.
A chubbier girl with a greater percentage of body fat would have remained alight longer. For example, the men had ignited and burned a fat girl in her early teens swinging naked beneath their helicopter just a couple of months ago, to help her reduce weight by burning off her fat.
That cute teenage cunt had enough body fat throughout her meat that she had sustained the fire with her own melting fuel, and had enough fat that she burned herself right down to a crispy black carbon skeleton. Then she was much lighter. Tanya had sustained her life by being in such good shape.
Her exposed meat was smoking, but the excessively denuded young woman swinging beneath them was still writhing and thrashing, signaling to the men she remained alive and conscious. She was blackened by the burning off of her skin, much like a cooked salmon, with pink and red meat showing through.
Her hair was burned entirely off. Steve zoomed in with his camera and reported her eyelids had also burned off. He confirmed she was conscious, with her eyes rolling wildly. The cunt was in exquisite pain, which pleased the men to no end. The thrashing of her limbs and the twisting and bucking of her torso accelerated, as if she were attempting to free herself from the anal anchor to free-fall to her death.
They wondered if the cunt was still fully cognitive, or had regressed to some hyperactive form of insanity. That often happened with these tortured naked cunts. It did not particularly matter, except they would like it better if she were sane and fully aware of what they were going to do to her next.
Her high level of rapid and frenetic activity gradually diminished as she at last calmed down. They guessed she might be going into shock. That was fine, as often that meant her brain was defending her against the pain, but would remain fully active to realize the horror of what she was experiencing.
They all agreed the brain was such a wonderful organ it was a shame to waste it, but there was always a plentiful source, and it was so gratifying to wipe them out, as long as it was done for fun and profit. Tanya’s erotic writhing as she dangled upside down on the end of her chain by her anus continued, and she was suffering incredible pain.
She did not retreat into shock. That was a good sign because it meant her mind was still fully active. Watching her eyes, Steve let the others know she was alert and fully experiencing the searing pain. She was also apparently aware of where she was and the horrors happening to her. This was good news. Tanya had not, as they had at first thought possible, drifted into La La land.
The men knew, however, that they would have to work fast if they expected her to be alive and alert for the remainder of her personal guided tour to hell before shock set in on the charred young woman. Earlier that morning they had promised her a swim and had no intention of going back on their word. The ‘copter turned to head out over the water as it descended.
666
On the ground, preparations had been underway as soon as the filming of Caitlin’s bloody remains had been completed. The cameramen had remounted their cameras on their sturdy tripods and had captured excellent footage of the torching of Tanya. During the teasing match-dropping game the big craft had eased downward two thousand feet to improve their ability to capture intimate details of her ignition and burning.
As soon as the flame was extinguished by the powerful downdraft, they had shut down the cameras, pulled on black rubber gloves, and using a pair of broad shovels, loaded a thirty-gallon rubber garbage can with the larger bits of Caitlin’s remains. The pieces that were intact such as her upper torso and limbs were thrown in by hand.
By scraping the broad shovels across the cement, they managed to gather quite a bit of her, comprising a variety of her guts, gore, and scattered viscera. The remainder of her was reduced to liquid, and could easily be hosed down later. Stains on the concrete would be a testament to their achievements.
“I don’t even recognize half of this stuff, it’s so damned mushy,” Phil said, looking down at a slimy purplish shovelful of female tripe and organs.
It was mostly a mass of smashed, inverted, or dismembered internal parts of what had shortly before been a beautiful woman.
The human body was not designed to withstand the kind of smack Caitlin had taken on striking the helipad after a mile-long drop. With such an incredibly violent impact, the naked body of a voluptuous woman was bound to reveal most of itself, but not remain entirely recognizable.
“Okay, here’s an anatomy quiz,” said Mark.
He picked up a small greyish oval, torn at one end, and held it out in his gloved palm to inspect and show to the other two.
“Uhhh, gall bladder?” asked Jason.
He reached over and squeezed it, and a white liquid dripped out of the object.
“Nope!” said Mark, “This is an internal sex organ, one of her gonads. Under a microscope, you would see that this liquid is really thousands of human eggs. The white is our semen we deposited in her when we fucked her.”
“No shit!” It was Phil who spoke with amazement. “So that’s what an ovary looks like!”
“I’ve got fifty bucks says you can’t find the other one. I’ll even give you a clue: the fucking thing may still be attached to the bitch’s uterus.”
“Jesus,” said Jason, “I got my fist right up into the uterus of that pregnant little redhead we had up here last month, just a few minutes after she gave birth hanging from the helicopter, dropping her little sprog like a bomb. The drop ripped her umbilical cord right out of her cunt.
“She was so loose when we reeled her in I could get my whole arm right up into her. I even got a thumb and finger up into what had to be her fallopian tubes, spreading them so she screamed loud, harsh and beautifully, but I’ve never seen a uterus or ovaries once they’re outside the bitch’s belly.”
“I missed seeing that one,” Mark complained, “I was entertaining a group of generals from the Pentagon, finalizing a big sale, and I didn’t even get to see her. I’ll have to go in and look at the video online. I hope you caught everything.”
“She was a gem,” Jason said, “Her father is a manufacturer of hybrid explosives, a new area for us and a new client. He’s also a Catholic. He got her pregnant himself and told me he was desperate. I told him I knew a guy who could help him, and he paid my chauffeur $20,000 to relocate her.
“I assured him we’d make sure she was comfortable, and that he’d never hear from her again, so his dirty little secret was safe. I had my chauffeur keep her in his basement for a few months until she was ripe and ready to whelp. He made videos of her every week, naked, bound, and gagged, so we could enjoy her plight.
“He and his brother got to pork her all they wanted, as long as they did no damage, and even pregnant she made a pretty good fuck. She wasn’t very old, she just turned fifteen a week before we brought her up here. Her father said he wanted to make sure she had a good life but didn’t want to know about it.
“He’s sending through five thousand a month for maintenance. We put it into the account we use to pay for helicopter fuel. She was a gorgeous kid but had a belly on her the size of a wrecking ball. We got her on her hands and knees after an anal douche, and we fucked her tight asshole until it was gaping like a cunt.
“We’d never had a pregnant girl up here before, nor, at that time, had we ever entertained a minor, but she was a spectacular little cunt, and sometimes you’ll go out of your way to help a friend.”
The others laughed.
“Well, I guess if they’re old enough to bleed,” Phil commented, “They’re old enough to slaughter.” They all laughed, “She was old enough to bleed, wasn’t she?
“Profusely!” Jason proclaimed.
“At that age, she’d have a decent puff of pubic hair,” Mark observed, sorry he had missed the fun.
“She soon had a neatly shaved pussy,” Jason explained, “Just like jaqi’s, but before that, it was light red, like her hair.”
“And she had a full-grown set of tits?”
“In the tit department, she was no kid, I can tell you. This pretty little cunt had the prettiest set of pointed torpedoes on her you could ever wish for,” Jason said, “Fully enlarged by their load of milk. Even at her tender age, she had all the requisite equipment of a real woman.”
“Except perhaps for stature,” Mark said, “The pregnant kid stood only four foot three in the high heels she wore for her trip to what she thought was a private hospital. Mark’s chauffeur convinced her she had to dress to the nines, to impress the staff in order to get special treatment, and she outdid herself.
“The stupid little cunt thought we were going to help her deliver her baby, and in that case she was right. She had no idea she’d whelp hanging naked beneath a helicopter half a mile up. Her clothes she wore when we had picked her up from her father were useless after a month because her belly grew so quickly. My chauffeur got her some pregnancy clothes, but they got little use because he kept her naked until her flight up here. She was a striking little cunt, pretty as hell, even with that huge belly she sported.”
Jason continued the story. “She was drugged for the helicopter trip. She would have felt out of place being pregnant when the other girls that went on the trip with her were all older and slim-waisted. None of the other girls we gathered for that weekend looked in the least pregnant.”
Phil chuckled. He could imagine the creativity used in explaining to the drugged pregnant kid to the other girls. Jason carried on with his story as he collected Caitlin’s gore. “We put her out first, to show the others our style, and what they could expect. She had a spectacular flight beneath the helicopter.
We tied ropes tightly around those marvellous huge tits of hers, and swung her by the boobs. That left her arms as well as her legs free to thrash, and they certainly did. A big heavy medicine ball was suspended from the tail, and Tom rocked the helicopter so that the ball swung at her and battered her big belly. It was incredible.”
Mark picked it up.
“We had induced her with some pills and a deep enema, and the pretty little bitch was well into in labor when we lifted off. It took a couple of dozen whacks at her belly with the medicine ball to get things working inside her, but then there was no doubt the infant was on its way. She was dribbling water from her flared ready cunt, and the drone helicopter got terrific shots of her pussy starting to spread as the sprog inside her moved down her fuck chute her Catholic father had enjoyed so sinfully.”
“Hey, speaking of sex organs,” Phil said, “I haven’t seen any sign of a cunt around here anywhere. I distinctly remember that tight-assed party girl Caitlin had a cunt on her, it was tucked on that shaved mound between her legs, and showed up beautifully when she spread them!”
“Jesus, she landed on it,” Jason said, “If her cunt somehow survived the landing, it was probably demolished when I blew the explosive device in her womb.”
“Well, keep an eye out for it,” said Phil, “I got a good look up inside it, so I’m sure I’d remember it. I know our taxidermist would like to get a cunt like hers to work on. It would make a nice keepsake of the weekend, and, what the fuck, having that pretty cunt in our trophy case would give us something solid to remember her by. Anyway, tell me more about that little redhead’s birthing party.”
“Ya, it was something!” Jason said, “We pulled her up about five feet, then let her drop. We did that several times, figuring we would either jerk the sprog out of her or rip her tits off when she hit the end of the ropes.”
“Either way,” Mark added, “It would make a great video.”
“Her tits somehow held,” said Jason, “I guess that’s the advantage of being so young. But they were stretched a few inches when we took the ropes off, and they had been pulled way out of shape. They were no bigger than three inches across at the base, with that part stretched nearly four inches long.
The outer parts were ballooned like twin cantaloupes. Of course I was more interested in her cunt, and as soon as the ropes were untied from her stretched tits, I gave her the deepest fist fuck a woman could ever want. Almost up to my elbow!”
“Or not want!” Phil laughed, ”What was the kill like?”
“It was terrific,” Mark said, “Sorry you had to miss it. When the kid had started out of her womb, its shoulders stuck, so that only its head was out of her. The baby was huge for such a small mother, and the head looked like a bowling ball with a face sticking out of her cunt!
“We started pulling her up and dropping her again, just to help her out, and of course help the kid get popped out of her cunt. That’s when most of the extreme stretching happened to her over-sized tits. Anyway, we were trying to jerk the kid out of her by the repeated five-foot drops. It worked.”
“Did it ever,” said Jason, ”We kept bringing her up higher for each drop. When we dropped her from ten feet she hit the ends of the rope hard, and the kid shot out of her like a fucking cannonball!”
“It hit the end of her umbilical cord so hard the cord ripped right off at the kid’s navel,” Mark laughed, “And it snapped back up so hard it struck the mother like a whip!”
“Incredible!” Phil said, “Tell me how you finally whack the little bitch?”
“We gave her a skiing lesson,” Mark told him, “When Jason was finished with his elbow-deep fist fuck, we hacked off the umbilical, and then jammed a collapsible boat anchor up her cunt, as deep as Jason had been into her. When we jerked on the shaft, the flanges spread inside her, locking to her meat, impossible to pull out!”
Phil was suitably impressed.
“We hooked a fifty-foot chain to the anchor and put her out again,” Mark continued, “This time she swung upside down from the anchor up her cunt. Tom moved the craft down and ran at one hundred miles an hour above the waves, dropping gradually lower until the young girl’s body started to smack against the water.
“You can imagine how hard she hit with each whack. She bounced twenty feet high with her first contact,” Jason said, “The little cunt had the sense to roll her head forward, or it would have snapped her neck. She hit hard on her shoulders and bounced and spun as she flew up.
“Then she swung down again and had rolled into a ball when she hit the water hard again. It was incredible. She bounced off the water several times until at last she just sort of skimmed along, clipping the tops of the big gentle swells. At that speed, every contact with the water was a violent blow to her body.
“Every time she hit one too hard, she flipped in the air again, her arms and legs thrashing like a spider on its line. As well, each jerk on her body caused by contact with the water had to be causing her incredible physical distress and damage from the anchor inside her gonads.
“Tom made several passes right by the cameras on the shore, and they caught incredible footage of the girl being battered worse than her father could ever do. Her arms and legs broke, and then Tom sped up his passes, bouncing her over the water at one hundred and fifty miles an hour. That was too much for her, and the impact actually tore off her limbs, and finally her head.
“There was not much left of that Catholic guy’s little cunt of a daughter by the time we reeled in the chain,” he said, “But we found we had terrific footage when we unloaded the cameras that night. It tuned out to be a highly productive day of work with the little pregnant cunt.”
“That’s right,” added Mark, “There was just a little meat on the hook when we brought it in, probably what was left of her uterus. The trip disintegrated the little cunt so well there is no chance her father will ever have to worry about sexual molestation, or incest charges. There’s nobody left to file a complaint.”
“Sounds incredible,” said Phil, ”When I get a chance, I’ll dig out the tape. What about the baby, did you get to see if it was a boy or a girl?”
“We didn’t even look for the sprog., but I got a great shot from the helicopter as it popped out,” Jason said, ”Its legs were spread as it ripped free from the umbilical, giving us a great view of its little cunt. No doubt about it. The baby disappeared as soon as it hit the water, so we gave it some time to surface, but it was fish food!”
Phil was now masturbating as he absorbed the details of the incredible kill.
“A few minutes after the sprog went into the surf, a swordfish breached, jumped high out of the water, and on its sword was the body of the sprog, impaled through its belly. The swordfish dove and swam off with its prize, probably to dine in private, so there was nothing left to retrieve.
“Anyway the video gave us all the evidence we needed, and we had proof we’d scored it as a double cunt-kill.”
“Jesus, did you get a shot of the swordfish?” Phil had to restrain his hand action to keep from ejaculating as he heard the sexciting story.
“Absolutely,” Mark said, “And we got it holding its prize high on its sword. The huge fish jumped at least four times. We got terrific shots. It was a rare opportunity, but the guys with the cameras in the boat were right on the spot, and came back with remarkable video. It was as if we had set it up, and we couldn’t have done better if we had orchestrated the whole thing.”
Mark reached into the garbage can, fished around briefly, and pulled out an odd-looking, bright pink and red mass of flesh.
“See this,” he said, handing it to Phil, “That’s the uterus. This is the part the baby sees, although this one has never produced a baby. This is the inside because the force of the bomb blew it inside out.”
“I’ll be damned,” said Phil, “You’re right. Look, the whole assembly is here, though its ripped up pretty good. Here’s the inside fuck muscle of her vagina. Christ, it looks like a horse’s cock! There’s the clit, and look, here’s that cute freckle on her pussy lip. How did you spot it?”
“I thought I noticed a tiny clump of pubic hair follicles on one end of that string of pieces when I chucked it in,” Mark said, “I’d say this cunt is too far gone for our taxidermist to do anything with, unless you’re interested in mounted cunt stew. Come on, we’d better hurry.”
Once most of Caitlin’s destroyed remains were collected into the barrel, the lid was put on, and the whole pad was hosed down, washed clean away before the blood dried and the bits started to rot. The only thing left on the concrete was the stains of blood that pronounced the men’s success.
They brought out the jeep and behind it the speed boat on its trailer. They threw the barrel into the boat, and then also loaded the cameras and some scuba diving equipment. They drove down to the beach and backed the trailer into the water to launch the boat. They saw the helicopter had dropped to one hundred feet, hovering above the yellow buoy anchored three hundred yards from shore.
They launched the boat, all but two of them climbed into it, and the powerful motor was fired up. The two would remain behind to film the happening from shore. Mark drove the boat. As the engine roared and the boat leaped forward, Phil picked up binoculars and fixed them on the badly burned female figure dangling beneath the helicopter.
Now that the big chopper had moved down to less than one-thousand-two-hundred feet, he could see her clearly but was surprised at what he observed. The big craft was still descending.
THE END OF CHAPTER NINE