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 6
Published: 16.05.2024
Story Codes: Erotic Horror, Snuff
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 6
The girls went white and were trembling with fear as straps on the guns’ handles were looped around their wrists. Gary explained to them the straps were there because the team of men didn’t want the game ruined by a girl dropping her gun with the first hit of a paint capsule.
They wanted both of the girls armed to make the contest more interesting. In case of an accidental drop, the custom-made weapons were fitted with a flotation device in the pistol grip, to retrieve the valuable weapons should the girls be dropped into the water and sink.
A two-hundred-foot drop would give the nude girls enough acceleration to break bones, probably their neck, and do enough internal damage that it would likely kill them. Striking the water face down could also split her belly open, disemboweling her, which made for a great video, the kind they were after.
However, wasting a woman for fun and entertainment and wasting a perfectly good gun were quite different matters. That was why the wrist strap could not be fastened too tight, so that if a girl did not float after a fall, she would not take the valuable specialized gun to the bottom with her.
Losing a gun just for a bitch kill would be always viewed as an unacceptable waste. The flotation device in the gun’s handle would lift it off her arm as she sank. This way the gun was saved and they had a cunt-kill video for their records, in addition to all of the fun of making it.
The other girls heard everything that was said and were shocked: before they even got to make a dirty movie, they were enslaved by these men, chained as were the women in the painting on the sorority house wall, depicting female slaves at a Roman slave auction two thousand years earlier.
The beautiful eight-foot by twelve-foot painting had been put there many years before by their older sorority sisters, to remind them that their place in the world was to serve men, and the beautiful piece, in which all the women were anatomically correct, showed in the background what happened to women who failed to fulfil their purpose in life.
A pair of Roman soldiers were crucifying a woman by nailing her breasts to a tall vertical wooden beam. The girls knew that in ancient Rome young females were often released naked into the Coliseum to face wild animals, or made to fight each other nude and to continue until they killed each other for the entertainment of the hordes of Roman citizens packed in the stands.
Things were so much different in those days, when killing fierce warriors and nude women was considered an acceptable form of entertainment sport. But that was in a barbaric society, where life was of little value. This was the first part of the twenty-first century, and people were expected to be kind and value beautiful young women.
Or did they? Had nothing changed? With the twentieth century behind them, the girls thought there was no way this captivity could be real, but they saw their two friends being armed with those horrible pistols and heard the man telling them what they were required to do to each other.
This whole affair was insane. This whole out-of-control situation was mad, and they thought in the depths of their hearts that they would soon awake from this incredibly insane nightmare. Nothing in their worst imagination could be this horrible, and they were hoping there would be some kind of reprieve.
They also knew this was all completely real. Tanya and Caitlin felt a sudden surge of grief as they realized what was to become of the girls they had persuaded to come to this bizarre estate, so far up the coast it was impossible to make an escape. They would have to continue the contest until the guns were empty.
If they refused, they were going to be shot by the men with the rifles. Surely one of these girls was doomed to die within the next half hour, and the men had so cleverly arranged that her death would be at the hands of the other. They could never be held to blame for her death.
All of the girls were confused as to how the two were to actually fight each other until the engines started. Now they all remembered the conversation about swinging by the chains. Only Tanya and Caitlin knew how it would work, and they were shocked at the violent variation the men had introduced to the sport they had forced the two captive party girls to endure earlier that day.
They heard the jet engines rev up and watched in stunned silence the big rotors begin to move, gradually speed up, until the helicopter gently tilted and started to lift off. It moved slowly up and forward at the same time, until the twin chains attached to the girls’ rectum plugs and the ends of the long metal pole were pulled tight, and the two nude girls were pulled off their feet.
The big craft continued its climb, lifting the screaming gun-toting girls off the ground doubled over so that they swung upside down suspended by their deep-seated colon anchors, as Tanya and Caitlin had earlier that morning. The two nude co-eds were a bizarre sight, swinging freely beneath the large craft by their anal plugs as it rose and moved over the open water.
Dawna’s shoes were spike-heeled mules, with only the toes covered, which was insufficient to give her the control to keep them on as she swung beneath the rising craft. Within moments the beautiful and expensive shoes fell, spiraling downward until they splashed into the ocean.
Steve and Phil took the boat and moved nearly under the still-rising helicopter, just far enough off the line of potential descent to give another interesting camera angle. Tom took the big chopper to two hundred feet and moved three hundred yards offshore, where the men had anchored a large yellow buoy as a base for scuba diving.
The anchored buoy had a six-foot flag staff sticking up from it, with an ornamental spearhead on top. The flag and the bright paint made it visible from a distance. The buoy provided a reference for Tom, to allow the ground cameras to get a stable and sharp image of the proceedings.
Harv and Andy put on headsets with small mikes and built-in transmitters. Close communication was vital, and Tom called the shots during these high-tech war games, just to keep things coordinated. When they had the headsets fitted and operating, the two skilled marksmen got out high-powered rifles.
These were equipped with telescopic sights, and each took a bead on the screaming and armed nude girls swinging by their rectum chains.
At this close range they skilled marksmen could put a bullet right through a link in the chain without even scratching it. The men adjusted their sights and their high-tech rangefinders, taking into account the effect of the light wind and the downdraft from the big rotors, then they announced on their tiny mikes attached to their headsets they were ready.
Tom switched on the loudspeaker on the belly of the helicopter.
“Okay, girls, everyone’s ready and the cameras are rolling, so let’s get those guns working. To make the decision to take part easier for you, each of you has ten seconds to get off each shot. You can take turns shooting at each other if you like, but we need those guns firing regularly.”
It was incredible getting such detached permission and instructions from the cold indifferent voice on the helicopter’s exterior PA.
Tom said, “Carmen, why don’t you get things rolling? Go ahead and take the first shot!”
The two young nudes were slowly spinning as the twist in their chains worked its way out.
They looked wide-eyed at each other, and although both had a grip on their guns as firm as their rectal grips on the dildos inside them, neither would raise hers to point it at the other. Harv took a bead on Carmen’s shapely round rump and gently squeezed off a round that burned a shallow grove across her outer right thigh.
It hit her like a bee sting, and she looked down at the marksman with the smoking gun in disbelief. She swung for several seconds, then raised the gun toward her friend, but hesitated to fire. Harv was pleased and got a second chance to wing her. This time he threaded a shot under her raised arms.
This one burned a sudden red line across the base of her left breast. ‘These fuckers are deadly serious!’ she thought in a panic.
“Now that you understand how this works, Carmen, I want you to pay careful attention,” Tom announced on the loudspeaker, ”This will be instructional for you too, Dawna. The next shot goes into and through real female meat!”
Carmen squeezed her eyes closed, and focusing on her heinous task, squeezed the trigger. Her gun recoiled, but the shot was wide, and the errant pellet flew harmlessly out to sea. Almost instantly, a third shot rang out, and this time the bullet slammed violently through Carmen’s right breast.
The big female melon slapped hard against the inverted nude’s lower ribs, recoiled, and flopped equally hard against her shoulder, then bounced and rebounded wildly from the impact of the bullet. The steel-cased slug had completely penetrated the large fatty balloon of bitch-meat, and exited cleanly out the other side.
“As you can see, girls, we don’t count misses.”
Tom was enjoying his role as communicator with the swinging and screaming naked girls suspended below him.
“You’ve got to hit your target every ten seconds or take a rifle bullet!”
The young naked women watching from the ground were in shock. They couldn’t believe these men would shoot the helpless girls, but the evidence from their own eyes was irrefutable. Deadly violence against women was part of the game. These guys were taking their bizarre war games seriously.
For them, the vicious sport wouldn’t be complete without the purposefully administered intentional gunshot wounds. The girls’ very lives were on the line.
“Settle down and get at it, ladies, you are wasting time, fuel, and video. Remember, the paint pellets are also pain pellets, designed to hurt, but will only look on video like the hit of a real bullet. Less than one in eight shots packs any permanently damaging punch. Of course, those others are worth worrying about.”
Dawna suddenly swung her gun upward in anger and fired. A small splatter of red paint showed on the plexiglass belly of the chopper, and Andy squeezed off a round that slammed through Dawna’s shapely calf. She didn’t believe he did that! He had shot her! These guys were all crazy!
“The plexiglass is bulletproof, darling,” Tom said casually.
His voice was so calm that he was clearly in no danger. These men had planned carefully, and what he said was certainly true.
“FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!” Dawna chanted nonstop, and began firing at the girl swinging twenty feet away, as required, but not waiting her turn.
After several paint splotches, she put a bullet right through the side of Carmen’s neck, fortunately missing the major artery. A few shots later she gut-shot her friend, slamming a bullet at an angle into Carmen’s belly, one that exited through her back just below her kidneys.
Suddenly Carmen sprang to life with the only defense possible, an aggressive offense. With her eyes blazing with a rage focused not on the girl swinging opposite her but on the men who had put her in this impossible situation, she began pumping shot after shot at the beautiful nude bitch who up until moments ago had been her friend.
A steel-jacketed slug slammed into and zipped right through Dawna’s shoulder, sending the screaming bitch spinning, but the real hit did nothing to reduce the flow of painful paint capsules and the odd bullet at her. As they spun from the recoil the girls began to see what was happening.
Firing the gun had an unexpected effect. Both girls were re-learning the old law of physics: every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Unless the gun was held dead center, it caused a recoil that made the nude who fired the shot spin on her chain. Shooting while spinning accelerated the spin. It made controlling their direction and aim very difficult.
They both gradually caught on that they should point the gun straight out as they spun and fired when their human target came into range. Carmen figured out that to fire in the opposite direction would slow her spin. She caught on fast and risked squeezing off a couple of wild shots to correct her previously uncontrollable spinning.
Suddenly Dawna amazed the men and women watching their aggressive war game when she intentionally shook the strap off her wrist and dropped her pistol. The gruesome battle between the asshole-suspended bitches was still in what appeared to be its early stages, but the stunning college cunt seemed to be giving up.
The others couldn’t believe what they were seeing, and Carmen celebrated with a sudden war whoop of victory. Dawna pitched back and forth on her ass chain, swinging wildly, lifting herself in the rocking motion until she could reach up between her legs and grasp in both hands the chain emerging from her steel-packed anus.
The men viewing the remarkable action from above saw immediately what was happening. Her anal anchor was working itself loose! She was in dire danger of falling to her death! The desperate move saved her life, as the effort in twisting upward to grab the chain put the final unmanageable stress on her anus.
The steel dildo popped free. Now only her hands gripping the chain above the dirtied dildo kept her from dropping. The men looked down from the helicopter and smiled in delight. The event had taken a novel turn, which would distinguish it from other such contests they had staged.
They were always looking for new twists in this violent sport, and the young women they captured always provided them. Carmen made the mistake of thinking she had won the murderous battle, and she stopped firing. When ten seconds had elapsed Harv’s rifle barked, and a bullet skimmed the inside of one arm, angled a red grove across her belly, and ripped through the hood at the top of her shaved vulva.
The rifle bullet penetrated and destroyed her clitoris, then bore a harmless hole through her bent thigh, exiting with minimum damage out the other side. The punitive shot had its desired effect. The bitch who was still armed knew that her only way to stop those murderous shots to her meat was to murder her friend.
These merciless pricks gave her no choice. She found herself in an insanely one-choice situation that was mad. With her jaw set in a look of grim determination, Carmen began methodically shooting at her dangerously hanging friend. Dawna took more than paint from the malicious gun attack.
Soon more than half Dawna’s body was covered with red patches from the burst paint pellets, as well as half a dozen bleeding entry wounds from real bullets, and as many exit wounds. Each shot caused Dawna to spin, and her only possible attempt at control was to lift and spread her knees.
It appeared as if she were climbing the trunk of an enormous invisible tree. At twenty feet she made an easy target, not that Carmen had got used to firing the gun from her inverted position. Her only chance for survival, slim as it seemed, was to twist and turn to make it more difficult for Carmen to hit her.
Both of the dangling nude girls were screaming and sobbing during the murderous assault. Dawna swung right side up with a two-handed grip on her chain, waving her legs in desperate movements to try to reach for safety or to make a poorer target for Carmen, who was still swinging in her inverted position.
Carmen was supported only by the grip of her rectum on the dildo implanted up her ass, firing at the human target which could no longer shoot back. The pellets and a few bullets slapped and clapped at Dawna’s bare flesh, accompanied by sharp squeals and screams, when suddenly Dawna’s hip bucked and she spun rapidly.
When at last her spin slowed the men could see that one of the slugs with a filed nose had hit her, smashing the flared bone of her pelvis, completely disabling her right leg. Because it hit a bone so near the surface, the damage to her hip was mostly internal, but was severe, as the hip was smashed into a mass of tiny splinters.
There was no exit wound, because of the stopping power of the bone, and as damaging as it was, in removing control of the leg, the hit caused the most interesting phenomenon. It was like a full-body case of the facial malady called Bell’s Palsy, in which one side of the face goes slack.
Bell’s Palsy is an affliction that causes an apparent exaggeration of movement of the unaffected side of the face. In this case, her right leg hung uselessly as her left leg lifted, twisted, and kicked vigorously. The twisting of Dawna’s torso and single thrashing leg made it appear as if the movement were enormously amplified.
It was, and the result was that she posed her own worst threat to her desperate and tenuous anal grip on the chain. She was completely helpless. Carmen was so startled by the damage she had done with the last bullet she stopped shooting again. Both Harv and Andy now had their gunsights on her.
In the circumstances that had developed, they found it was no longer necessary to give either guidance or punishment to Dawna with their rifles. She just did what came naturally, and did so beautifully for the cameras; visibly suffering and uselessly struggling for survival.
666
Having one of their gorgeous young captive women attack another who was helpless and in great peril was the most exciting part of the game for these men, who were now all sporting raging erections that bulged their pants, should anyone notice. Nobody did, as the men were all enjoying the desperate circumstances of the screaming nudes swinging by their chains.
Nobody else created this kind of entertainment for themselves, regarding the young cunts they used as living fuck-meat as being completely disposable. The nude females on the ground also had their eyes glued to the dangling naked figures, which gleamed with sweat in the bright afternoon sunlight.
The dangling nudes were terrorized by what they were seeing, and due to the outrageousness of their predicament, were also on the verge of orgasm. The men were not in the least disappointed that Dawna had lost both her gun and her anal anchor so early in the remarkable fight they had gone to such pains to put together.
They had simply set up a creative situation in which their naked young lady guests were certain to fail, then allowed them to do so under the watchful eyes of the recording cameras. How they were to die was open to the direction their struggle took. It could go several ways.
The screaming co-ed cunts were performing perfectly, to the satisfaction of their male hosts. When ten seconds had passed since Carmen had delivered that damaging shot to Dawna’s hip, both rifles on the ground barked again. This time Carmen was the sole target for the cool-headed and steady marksmen.
Her large damaged dangling breasts both leaped and slapped painfully hard against her chest once more as shells from the high-power rifles slammed into and bore through them. The perforated boobs rebounded, spurting jets of bright red blood from both the fresh and earlier wounds.
These men knew how to treat their women, providing them with larger-than-life punishment for the benefit of the demanding cameras. Snuff films were only satisfying when there was considerable terror, horror and shock provided to the victims before they died, especially when their terror was accompanied by a huge sexual rush.
In addition to using such beautiful young subjects, these games provided all of those traditional horror film values for the viewers. The difference was in this case the horror and the deaths were real. It was the reality of horrific, well-designed murders that made the resulting videos so valuable.
That was what the people were willing to pay for on their darknet website, to witness. Brutal sex and violent death as subjects were impossible to beat in reality movies. The girls chained together on the ground screamed horrifically as they watched the incredible and seemingly unending violence unfolding before them.
Each of the girls waiting their turn on the ground realized it could just as easily be her swinging beneath the helicopter by marginally safe rectal anchors, dangling in the sights of those merciless rifles, forced to do irreparable damage to one of her friends by shooting her repeatedly.
Worse, they could be in Dawna’s desperate predicament, wounded and unarmed, clinging by a precipitous grip only twenty feet from her friend-turned-enemy who had so badly injured her and was now certain to murder her. Forced to turn on each other, these gorgeous college girls made perfect subjects for this violent bloodsport.
Spurred to action by the shots to her breasts, Carmen leveled her gun at Dawna’s belly and resumed shooting. Two of the next ten shots were live rounds, and she mercilessly gut-shot the beautiful bitch. Amazingly Dawna managed to hold on to the chain, even though her body bucked wildly at the incredible abuse.
Dawna screamed at Carmen at the top of her lungs, “You’re a traitor to your sex, a puppet for these inhuman men! You’d eat shit from their assholes to please them! You’d even give birth to their babies, that would grow up to rape and torture the daughters of your friends!”
Carmen was so enraged at her desperate helplessness that Dawna’s words struck home. She raised the gun to point it at Dawna’s head, needing urgently to stop the flow of painful words, and she blasted away. Five splotches of red paint spattered on her screaming face, and then the sixth round hit.
It was a tampered bullet, a dumdum with the nose filed with grooves to make it spread out immediately on impact.
Dawna’s mouth was wide open and her tongue raised. The bullet hit her open mouth dead on, spreading wide instantly as it hit the bottom of her raised tongue, and in an instant, it grew and pressed back irrepressibly until her head disintegrated into a violent spray of blood, brains, hair, and tiny fragments of bone.
Her arms maintained their grip for an instant from the shock of the impact of the bullet, then they flung out wide, and the headless nude female body dropped, spinning gently through space as it fell. She tumbled twice, then hit the water hard belly-first with an enormous splash.
The girls on the beach screamed hysterically as they witnessed the incredible cunt-kill. What they were witnessing was no game, it was savage murder! Their eyes followed the headless body of their friend, with only the bloody shattered stump of a neck where the beautiful head had been.
Their eyes bulged in disbelief as they saw the water fold in on itself following the splash. Dawna had gone under, with only a reddish mist high above, rapidly dispersed by the downdraft, as the only remnant of her beautiful face and head. At last, the headless carcass of the beautiful college girl rose through the bubbles to the bob on the surface.
Dawna’s naked split carcass lay belly-up, and the girls were shocked to see the force of striking the water had burst her bullet-damaged belly open like a squeezed grape, and her bright pink, purple and white viscera floated in the foam, now red with her spilled blood.
The boat moved in close to allow for tight close-ups of Dawna’s ruined carcass. When they had captured the shots they needed, the obscene female body with its surrounding spilled entrails was left floating as the boat moved back toward shore. The men believed in reuse and recycling.
What remained of the beautiful headless nude body of the dead college girl would make a sumptuous meal for fish and sharks, and then work their way down the food chain. The girls on shore spotted the distant circling dorsal fin of a large shark, and realized a terrible feast was about to take place.
The law of the jungle was also the law of the sea. Nature would take its gruesome course. Every month the men provided fresh female meat for the ocean’s scavengers, and the filmmakers were confident nothing but bones would be left of the unfortunate young ladies by sunset, and those would sink to the sea bottom to be absorbed forever in the muck.
Carmen finally emerged from her shock and realized fully what she had done, and began to heave, vomiting violently as she slowly rotated at the end of her chain. The helicopter moved back over land, lowered her to the grass near the other girls beside the helipad, and then the craft landed.
Steve unhooked her chain from the end of the long bar that ran across the bottom of the craft and the six remaining girls, who lay curled in a fetal position, sobbing uncontrollably. He linked Carmen’s tail chain to Betty’s collar while Adrian and Fern’s collars were unlinked from the chains of Tanya and Caitlin.
The two newly selected nude cunts were loaded, still screaming hysterically, aboard the waiting helicopter. The men had a full afternoon of bloodsports planned. In their minds time was money, and they were ready to proceed with the next event. They were having a ball, at the expense of the young college girls.
Although she had been shot several times, none of Carmen’s wounds appeared to be life-threatening. The men left her lying there with the others, to be abused for further fun later on. These young cunts’ minds often snapped from the unimaginable violence they were subject to, which was part of the fun.
When they experienced additional stress, the injured cunts usually rebounded well, and when put into another desperate situation they almost always performed well under a suitable level of physical and mental duress. That was the nature of cunts, and the men took full advantage of them for their purposes.
In the worst case, if a girl remained passive, she could be taken up to one of the mansion’s large swimming pools and used as live Barracuda food. Being eaten alive was always a stimulus to return to the horrors of their final moments on earth, being ripped and eaten as living meat.
No opportunity for gross debauchment of the women was missed, particularly if it would cost the lovely young lady her life. Facing a ferocious large killer fish always brought the traumatized bitches to life, however briefly. No matter how she reacted, she would provide high-quality entertainment value.
That worked to the advantage of the men present and for those privileged to see the videos they made of each bizarre lady-horror event. These wealthy men had a good thing going that fed their passion for the blood of naked young females, and they knew exactly how to work it.
The cameras were reloaded with fresh recording cards and batteries as the helicopter lifted off, with jaqi screaming hysterically and pounding on the nose of the craft with her fists. She was not enjoying her ride as a live nosepiece on the helicopter from hell, and was on the verge of nausea due to what was about to happen.
As much as she had loved the chance to whip the meat genitals of the other naked girls, she drew the line at intentional murder. From the pilot seat, Tom appreciated the close view of her puckered rectum and her battered and swollen cunt, both orifices in full spread right outside the windscreen.
She had done a credible job of self-flagellation when she used the riding crop on her own genitalia. Since she had stopped beating herself the swelling had continued, and the organ was still rising and spreading open, like an erotic loaf ready for baking. jaqi was an interesting young woman.
Tom had other things to occupy his mind as he flew the craft, and he ignored her meaningless protest as he took the big bird to a position directly over the buoy, three hundred yards above it. The boat moved to within twenty feet of the buoy, with its camera ready. Everything was set for the next game.
Tanya noticed for the first time that the yellow buoy with its flag flapping in the breeze was more sophisticated than it at first appeared. For example, no matter which way it bobbed or weaved, the ornamental spear flagpole mounted on it remained pointing straight up.
She decided there must be a counterbalance inside the body of it that was somehow attached to the erect spear. Bill reached out through the helicopter’s open door and attached a twenty-foot-long rope ladder to the bar. It was a well-crafted and sturdy device, with the ends of its round wooden rungs fixed with eye hooks that were woven into the rope.
The flexible ladder swung down and swayed in the downdraft of the chopper, but it was solidly made and was securely attached. It would become somewhat more stable with someone’s weight added to it. When he was satisfied it was well secured, he signaled to Tom that all was ready.
Tom coordinated the camera operators on the ground, in the boat, and on board the helicopter. As the loadmasters for this trip, Bill and Greg moved Adrian and Fern to the open doorway. The nude girls both resisted, but their high heels slipped on the Plexiglas floor, and the men were much stronger than the shapely girls.
The men persuaded the two to kick off their shoes, as they would make life on the ladder a little too hazardous. There was no sense in causing a fatal accident before the situation had an opportunity to develop. The girls realized the wisdom of the advice, and they both readily complied.
When their feet were as bare as the rest of them, they were forced to climb out onto the bar and then down onto either side of the ladder, facing each other. It was incredibly frightening, but the men carried pistols, and the girls were now convinced they would not hesitate to use them.
They had witnessed what they had done to poor Carmen. She was no murderer, but they had forced her to kill Dawna by using those rifles on her. Adrian and Fern were tremendously frightened, but they reluctantly crawled out of the helicopter along the short extension of the steel bar and got onto the ladder.
Even though they were standing on opposite sides of the rope and dowel apparatus, they felt crowded, as they were forced to share the wooden rungs. They clung to the ladder facing each other, feeling more than naked because of the slave collars they wore, quivering in terror.
Bill explained through the loud PA under the craft what was expected of them. These guys were really bizarre. “This is really quite a simple exercise for you two,” he said. “All you have to do is climb down to the bottom of the ladder, cross over underneath it, then climb back up the other side.”
“That’s impossible!” Adrian said.
“How do you expect us to get past each other at the bottom?” asked Fern. “How in hell are we supposed to cross over? Adrian’s right. There’s no bloody way!”
“I’m sure you’ll work something out between you,” grinned Bill. “But you’ll want to be quick, because the first one to return up the other side will be allowed to climb back into the chopper, but then we’ll cut the ladder free, so the other will fall to the ocean, and will have to swim for it!”
“My God,” Adrian screeched, “We’re up much higher now than Dawna was when she fell, and look what happened to her! We’ll be split wide open if we fall!”
“Not if you hit the buoy!” Bill said. The girls looked down and screamed. They saw the iron spear sticking up from the six-foot diameter yellow ball bobbing in the water far below them. One of them was going to die, either from the impact of hitting the water or by terrible impalement on that monstrous iron spear.
Hitting the buoy hard, they realized the flag on it would be dragged right through them, and they would hit the iron ball hard. Both felt weak but knew they would have to rally their strength so they would not be the ones to fall. Regardless of what they did, one of them was going to die a horrible death.
Looking down was not a good idea. They both felt a sudden fear of heights, and it nearly caused them both to fall. Grasping the horizontal bar that held their ladder was not easy, as they were in each other’s way, and were competing to survive. Each had the resolve to not be the victim in this evil sport.
They were in a desperate situation, and although they knew the only way to survive this dehumanizing game was to do as they were told, neither was able to let go her hold on the bar. Bill reached into a pocket and produced a stopwatch. He was going to force them to act as required.
“You two can start whenever you like,” he said, “But I’m going to cut the ladder free in five minutes. No matter where either of you are! Unless, of course, one of you gets back up here before that, in which case the other of you will be the one to take the shortcut down! What’s it going to be?”
That was the only spur they needed. Both of the voluptuous young nudes sprang into action, but climbing down a rope ladder is an acquired skill, one which neither of these athletic young ladies had acquired. They were also directly in each other’s way, being at the same level on the narrow ladder.
They were either stepping on each other’s feet, grabbing each other’s hands on the rungs, or both. The ropes bent when they planted a foot, and the tendency was for them to lean dangerously back with each step down. These two naked girls on the ladder had been friends, but that was now forgotten as they both realized their lives were on the line.
They had to perform, and perform fast, or face a deadly drop into the sea. At least Dawna had been dead before she hit the water. If they were to fall, they knew they would be alive when the impact with the ocean split them open like oysters. This was a desperate situation and time for desperate action.
666
Their fright-driven activity on the ladder gave the cameras what they wanted. Limbs were flying, knees and breasts came into violent contact, and the buxom nudes demonstrated they were in a desperate competition, from which one of them would not be permitted to survive.
The accident happened when they were down only half a dozen rungs. Adrian had moved more quickly and was down a few rungs below her friend, when Fern’s foot slipped, striking Adrian high in the belly just below her remarkable breasts. The blow was so hard that it knocked the wind out of Adrian, who lost her hand grip and swung back hard.
Fortunately for her, it also caused her feet to slip through the rungs, and her legs tangled in the rope ladder in time to save her as she fell backward to dangle by her precarious leghold. Fern’s leg had gone so far through the opening that the rung she had slipped on slammed up hard into her cunt as she dropped.
Because she was upright, Fern recovered first, although the pain of dropping her cunt onto the rigid wooden rung stunned her. It was not as sharp a pain at first, it lingered longer and hurt as much as the blows to her organ from jaqi’s whip. She retrieved her leg and scrambled down the ladder, avoiding Adrian’s kicking legs.
However, she inadvertently kicked the dangling and screaming nude hard on the buttocks, which were pressed against one of the rungs so hard her flesh folded over it, effectively blocking its use. Adrian turned her head, and realizing that she was being beaten at this deadly game, grabbed desperately at one of Fern’s ankles.
Holding the captive ankle with all her might, Adrian jerked her legs, abruptly freeing them from the ladder. Her lower body flipped and she was suddenly facing the ladder again, having had by her desperate move leapfrogged past Fern, and was now more than halfway down the ladder.
She released her grip on Fern’s ankle to move quickly downward, now uninhibited as she was well past her opponent. This was how the men said it was supposed to work. Fern took advantage of her position higher on the ladder and kicked viciously at Adrian’s knuckles clinging to the rung.
She was desperately aware that her opponent was, in the big picture beating her, and not yet thinking through the potentially horrific consequences of her actions. If she were going to win, Adrian was going to have to die. There was no alternative, that was how it had to be.
“Jesus, stop it!” Adrian shouted at her, “You’re going to make me fall off!”
Fern looked down, and suddenly it hit her with a level of understanding she had not fully grasped before. If either of them lost her grip on the rope ladder she would certainly plunge to her violent death in the ocean or onto the lethal spear on the buoy.
The finality of that terrifying thought made her knees and arms suddenly feel dangerously weak. No matter what either of them did, one of them was not going to go back to college alive. Like the pair before them who had been forced to fight with those awful guns, the men wanted one of them to kill the other, and there were no other acceptable options open to them.
Pulling her bloody cunt-rag out for the men, revealing her menstrual blood, and flashing the nose of a lump of shit at them during her daring strip tease were the naughty acts of a harlot, and the upper-class young woman loved behaving like a common and outrageous whore in front of everyone.
But that was quite different from, and fell well short, of killing her friend. She was an admitted exhibitionist but was not a murderer. She had done some quite naughty things in her life. At her initiation party into the Sorority, she and three others had been challenged to go out and hire a whore.
They had brought the girl back to the party, made her do a sexy striptease for all the girls, then the others had held the girl, a pretty working-class slut, down. Fern had slid down her panties, squatted over the pretty young bitch’s face, forcing the screaming girl to eat her shit directly as it emerged from her bum.
That was the meanest thing she had ever done to anyone, but that was just for fun, and only to a stupid streetwalker they had picked up downtown, a pretty but common whore, not a peer and friend. Now these men wanted either her or Adrian to kill the other. It was an incredibly simple demand for a girl with no moral values, but Fern was not that kind of girl.
Both nudes on the ladder could see Dawna’s headless carcass floating tits up in the sea below them, bobbing on the waves, with the rolling ocean breakers causing more and more of her intestines to spill out of the large rip in her belly made by her body smacking the water so hard.
The helicopter was significantly higher now. What would happen to them, if they hit that steel buoy with the horrible spear sticking straight up? The men had promised the nude girls on the ladder only one of them would be allowed back into the helicopter, and they believed them.
They said they would cut the ladder free, with one or both still on it. Not only that, but these evil men had set an impossibly tight time limit for them to cross the bottom of the ladder, and the clock was ticking. One of them was going to have to die, and each was resolved it would not be her.
Adrian took advantage of Fern’s momentary hesitation, and she scrambled down the ladder until her feet reached the bottom rung. Moving around to the other side would be tricky and dangerous, and put her directly below Fern, who was once more moving down toward her.
She tentatively reached around the side rope and then froze in fear. ‘Fuck, his is going to be very difficult!’ she thought.
“Under the bottom rung, not around the side” boomed Tom’s voice through the helicopter’s external speaker.
Adrian looked down in disbelief. There was no way. She was certain she would fall and be killed. If she went under it, she could use only her hands from here on down.
She would surely fall and die a horrible death like Dawna, which was just what those terrible men wanted. Then Fern’s foot hit her knuckles again, and she knew she would have to find a way. On the way down, being ahead turned out to be no advantage. She stepped off the bottom rung, taking all of her weight on her hands.
She was thankful she had used weights at the campus fitness club. Most of the girls used the step machine, which kept the cellulite bulges off their hips, but did little to develop the upper body. Now she was taking her entire weight on her arms, and would also have to use her arms to manoeuvre herself.
Fern’s feet were now on the rung below Adrian’s hands, which caused Adrian to nearly panic. She moved more quickly, until at last she was holding on to the lowest rung, her body dangling in space below the ladder. Just as Fern’s feet reached the level of her hands again, she made a desperate move.
To climb the other side of the ladder meant she would have to turn around, so Adrian quickly released one hand to turn, but at that instant, Fern planted a foot on the hand still clinging to the bar, and she had to desperately grasp at the rung again with both hands to hang on. She suddenly realized her advantage.
Fern used her stronger opponent hanging from the ladder’s bottom rung as a climbing shaft and started to climb down the swinging girl, wrapping her legs around her, using Adrian’s squirming body as support. With her legs wrapped around the nude, her sex organ pressed against Adrian’s bare chest, tracing a line of red dampness between the big tits and down across the tight belly.
Adrian felt the warm wetness of Fern’s cunt pressed against her nakedness, remembered the pretty co-ed was in season, and realized with disgust that the moisture being streaked down her front between her tits and across her belly was likely Fern’s bright red and stinking menstrual blood.
The hot-headed bitch had shown how uncouth she was when she had done those disgusting things to spice up her strip act earlier, and by showing her bloody cunt rag and exposing the nose of a tube of her shit she had let them all know she was really nothing more than a low life slut. Now she was reconfirming that.
As Fern’s weight was added to her own, Adrian found it much more difficult to hold on. She worked out in her mind how she would turn and reach up to the next rung in the same movement, but quickly realized that would mean carrying the full weight of both of them on one wrist.
Not only that, she would also have to be using that one arm to lift them both up the distance to the next rung. There was no fucking way. It was impossible. At least the menstruating bitch Fern was taking some of her weight on her hands. She was still adding dead weight to her struggling friend below her.
Adrian thrashed her legs and twisted her torso in an attempt to shake Fern off her, realizing that if she were successful, her naked opponent would fall to her death. If that were how it had to end, so be it. She was not going to sacrifice her own life simply for this disgusting slut that Fern had proved to be.
She was not a killer, but these were not ordinary circumstances. The filthy bitch was going to cause both of them to die unless she could get her off. One of Fern’s large breasts now pressed against Adrian’s face, and as the bitch slid down, the big soft mammary covered both her nose and mouth.
She tried to turn her head away, but her shoulder was in the way. She was trapped. As incredible as it seemed, the biggest danger she felt as she clung to the ladder’s bottom rung, taking all of her own and most of Fern’s weight on her aching arms, was that she would suffocate to death.
The danger was real. The harder she struggled the more the breast was pushed into her face. The stupid cunt probably had no idea what she was doing, but Adrian was now desperate. It was a moment most men would die for, and as it now happened, Adrian thought she might.
She exercised the only reasonable option that occurred to her under the pressure of the moment. She opened her mouth wide and chomped her teeth down hard on the offending mammary. Fern screamed, locked her long legs tightly around Adrian’s waist, and then she did the unthinkable:
The bite was so unexpected and painful she released her hand-hold on the ladder. This suddenly doubled the weight Adrian bore, and the inevitable happened: the grip of her hands on the ladder’s lowest rung failed. Now both were free of the ladder, with nothing below them but air, the sea, and the very dangerous buoy.
Adrian threw her head back and screamed as she started to fall, and her eyes made contact with and locked on those of jaqi, hanging over the bow of the helicopter and staring in disbelief at the incredible competition. The licentious waitress watched in horror from her overhead vantage point.
She was held on the outside of the nose of the helicopter only by string wrapped around her ankles. She was so shocked by what was happening beneath her she screamed harsh shrill as she watched the college girls falling to their inevitable deaths. God, she had definitely discovered Hell.
She tensed her whole body for the scream, clenching her muscles so hard her bladder was squeezed to the limit and she pissed a spray of hot urine over the windshield. The two screaming nudes below her tumbled slowly as they fell, with Adrian dropping underneath, and Fern falling forward, their long limbs thrashing wildly.
The falling nudes accelerated rapidly toward the water and the large buoy, with its monstrous vertical steel spear pointing directly at them. Watching from the ground below, the other girls were in shock. They had already watched Dawna tumble into the sea, but she had been killed by the gunshot.
That blast with a dumdum had removed her head. These two were alive and conscious. It was incredible. They were helplessly watching two other college students they knew falling to their certain deaths. Tom’s precise aim in positioning the large helicopter was perfect.
The girls did a perfect three-quarter turn and rotated ninety degrees to each other as viewed from either above or below, so they were viewed from the helicopter as making the form of an X. Their fall took only a few seconds, and as expected by the viewers, it ended abruptly and violently.
Fern hit the long spear between her shoulder blades, and it plunged up through her chest, emerging between her big tits. Adrian immediately fell across her at right angles, taking the bloodied spear into her belly just below and to the right of her navel. With their legs widespread, their gaping cunts were on full display.
Both of the beautiful young speared bitches slammed down hard onto the large steel ball of the buoy. Fern’s skull cracked like an egg from the contact, but her hair hid the damage. Adrian’s face smashed against the hard steel with such force that her nose was driven back into her brain.
The spear kept their impaled figures from bouncing, and their heads and bodies remained relatively intact. To the girls on shore, the two appeared as if they were undamaged until some blood seeped across the yellow-painted metal on the buoy from their cracked heads and spear puncture wounds.
Their necks snapped from the instant and violent deceleration, but the trauma killed them instantly, so neither was aware of her instant internal injuries. The SloMoCam, a specialty camera designed to provide startling five-hundred-frame-per-second slow motion, had been set up on the shore and was in perfect position.
Aware of the expected outcome, it had been focused by the operator on the buoy. It was started the instant Adrian let go of her grip on the ladder, and captured remarkable analytical footage of the devastating impact. It would become part of the classic video the men were producing for enjoyment later.
Although death came to the seventeen-year-old nude freshman co-eds instantly on impact, that did not prevent the men from enjoying the violent contact and full view of their beautifully displayed bodies and fully exposed genitals. The boat and the helicopter moved continuously closer to allow the keen cameramen to obtain tight close-ups of the impaled girls, and the devastation caused by their three-hundred-foot drop.
Internal damage to both impaled girls was severe, and both of their backs had broken, but evidence of their injury was apparent only on their heads, and then only from the blood that seeped down to the water. The internal shock of their abrupt landing had pressed their internal organs toward the extremities of their torsos, causing remarkable bulging and spreading of their vaginas and rectums.
They had both been killed immediately on impact, but even in death the erotic carcasses of both broken nudes provided great subjects for the probing cameras, and the eager men took every opportunity to capture their startling images on video. Their online audience would appreciate every revealing angle.
The naked girls chained together beside the helipad had front-row seats for the afternoon’s incredible action, but they could at best be called reluctant spectators. They were not interested in witnessing violence against women and were horrified by the brutality and killings they were witnessing.
They were also terrified by the growing certainty they would also be killed in the monstrous sports these heartless men were staging for their cameras. They had consented only to participate in a soft porno film. This was so far in excess of that — their heads were spinning — they were now certain none of them would live to collect the new cars promised them.
All of them screamed with heightened anxiety as the rope ladder was hauled back into the helicopter, which moved back to the helipad and landed. Even the boat returned to shore. Who was going to be next? What horrors had the men in store for them now? It was clear they were going to leave Fern and Adrian’s bodies impaled on that steel spear out on the buoy. These men had no respect for women, not even dead ones.
THE END OF CHAPTER SIX