Disclaimer: The following is fiction. The story’s content does not represent the writer’s beliefs, opinions, or attitudes. This story is intended for adult entertainment only. The characters and events depicted in this work are fictional. The author does not condone or promote unlawful activity as the story describes. By continuing to read this work, you acknowledge that you are an adult who wishes to read works of fantasy and fiction for the purpose only of fantasy. All the characters in this story are adults. They may play different ages for the fictional character they are depicting, but they remain at all times adults.
Writer: Regis
Subject: KONFLIKT 4
Synopsis: Konflikt is a code name easily recognized as having to do with fighting, and when fight fans see it, their interest is immediately raised. This works particularly well when there is a faint background image supporting fighting, such as boxers in a fight ring. What moves the prospective audience in the right direction is the inclusion of key words that have to do with children, nudity, aggression and perhaps even weapons. People who look for that kind of action quickly join the dots, and the result can be a full arena. The competitions are always extreme, and they are often not designed for the competitors to survive. For survivors, go to television For intentional ‘accidents’ that are frequently fatal, check out the Konflikt fights. Naked men, women and children are involved, though seldom together, and the outcome is frequently satisfyingly deadly.
Story Codes: Erotic Horror, Violence, Young Ones, Snuff
Konflikt 4
“While she waited in the pool, the blonde child swam on her back and displayed her genitals and perky tittless chest in the manner we had trained her to do to the appreciative observers. As she postured, she did not see an underwater gate open at the far end of the pool.
“Nor did she see three large barracuda swim into the pool. I heard from my associate that the beautiful naked little girl put up a remarkable fight, but it was no contest. The audience was shocked, and watched silently as the three lethal fish, one at a time, struck her.
“They ripped pieces out of her limbs and sides, and then opened her tummy. The gorgeous child was dead meat long before she actually died. The pool was soon pink with her blood, and then strewn with lengthy ropes of her viscera as the three deadly fish pulled the little girl apart, feasting on her most succulent parts.
“This was showbusiness at its best. The men were openly masturbating, and the women vomiting. Only the young mistress seemed to be into the horror she was witnessing at close hand. ‘You like that, cunt?’ the host asked, and she smiled and nodded.
“Watching naked girls being killed is so exciting,” she said, “My last boyfriend was a Mafia soldier, and he held a lot of parties where naked young girls, as young as seven, were shot with pistols just for the sport of seeing them go down, writhe around on the floor, and then die.”
“Without hesitation he pushed her into the pool. With the sharp splash of her entry and her shocked scream the three barracuda turned their attention to her, and within seconds the first one hit her, ripping most of one of her large breasts free in its jaws.
“Another struck her bare buttocks as she flailed helplessly, screaming for help. She was near the side of the pool, and the host took a pistol from a basket on a pool-side table and put a bullet into her thigh. The third barracuda hit her back, ripping out a substantial chunk of muscle.
“The host put a second bullet into her groin beside her vulva. All of the women screamed, and as another barracuda grabbed her hip in its jaws and ripped out enough to reveal her internal pack of guts, the shocked nudes all vomited again in unison.
“The wife of one of the guests was next to b epushed into the pool of carnage, and her husband took his turn shooting her in non-lethal places as the big fish ripped open her raw meat. Then the other guest’s wife was added to the bloody bitch-meat soup.
“Her husband also took turns putting bullets into her meat while the fish were charged with the more deadly work. At last the host’s wife was added to the pool of horror, and in less that twenty minutes the water was stained crimson with so many quarts of spilled bitch-blood.
“The surface was now covered with the floating ripped naked female bodies and many yards of gleaming entrails of the four dead woman and the beautiful little blonde girl. It was an incredible sight, and the photographers and video guys captured all of the action.”
“That would have been so cool to see!” Hallie said, clearly aroused by the description of carnage, “But I’d hate to be one of the cunts pushed into the pool to feed the fucking fish! Tell me more about the rest of the private party where she started her career.”
“One of the many exhibitions that night used electricity to good effect. Two little ten-year-old girls from India, one Sikh and the other Buddhist, were each given a big one-liter bottle of Pepsi to drink an hour before the match. This allowed their bladders to be full, a critical element for their event.
“They began their competition fighting bare handed, kicking, head-butting and punching as well as viciously slapping and scratching each other, and soon had scratched and bruised each other enough to add some of their own to the blood and gore from earlier fights staining and wetting the sand.
“They were fighting with such intensity that soon both were nearly exhausted. Their handlers separated them, and gave each another big Pepsi. They had fought hard enough that they were thirsty, and managed to get them down. The little scrappers’ bladders were full.
“Then they were given light load stun guns, and once they figured out they were not clubs, they got in some good shots, particularly when they learned how painful it was to get a jolt in the genitals. After they exhausted the powerful stun gun batteries, good for forty shots at the level theirs were set to, they got a brief break while some interesting devices were installed in the death pit.
“Handlers brought out what appeared to be small exercise bicycles, but with a curious twist. Instead of a seat on top of the post, there was an extension, bent slightly forward, made of black plastic with a bright metal ball on the end. Standing out well below the head of the shaft was another smaller black shaft, this one with a bright metal plate.
“When a girl rode this heinous exercise device, the plate would be positioned below and a few inches in front of her genitalia. Instead of a wheel, the bicycle chain driven by the pedals was attached to a small electric generator that fed a large capacitor.
“The men cleared the sand from the base of each of these exercise devices so that they could be mounted directly to the steel floor, attached to a black box with electric wiring running under the sand. When they were installed, the sand that had been removed was replaced.
The two devices now stood facing each other six feet apart, firmly bolted to the floor. Between the handlebars on each was a panel with a single red button. That was all there was to it.
The beautiful little Indian girls, their shiny black hair pulled back into a high-mounted pony tail and their sleek brown skin leaking blood from their many scratches from the first part of their fight, were laid on their backs on the sand, and their handlers gave them each a sharp squeal-provoking spanking on their puffy little vulvas.
The men slapped the little genitalia until they became quite red. Then with amazing control and dexterity, they flipped the little girls over so that they were now on their hands and knees, their legs wide spread. The sharp cunnie-spanking continued, with blows so hard that each smack lifted their rear slightly.
“Pee!” shouted one of the handlers.
The sharp painful slaps to their no longer private parts continued. Both girls strained, and with all of the liquid they had taken in both were quickly successful in sending backward a spray of golden urine. They looked just like a pair of tigresses spraying piss on the sand.
“Stop!” the handler shouted, “Don’t waste your water, you’ll need it for the competition!”
Both sprays diminished to a sprinkle, then stopped. These little girls were from good families in India, and not only had been house broken but now displayed remarkable bladder control.
“The naked little brown girls were lifted high in the air by their handlers, their shapely legs raised and spread, which spread their buttocks, and then their rectums were lowered until they came into intimate contact with the bright metal balls on the head of each seat post.
“A gob of spit from their handlers was all that was required to lubricate the steel balls, and the little Indian ladies screamed deliciously from the pain as their anuses spread, admitted the shiny balls, and they sunk onto the dark shafts, taking the devices deep into their colons.
“They desperately lowered their legs to find the pedals, taking some of their weight off their colons and onto their shapely brown legs. At the bottom of the cycle, they had to strain to make contact with the pedals with their bare toes, and without coaching both began to pedal.
“That’s good, girls,” the handlers told them, “Pedal hard. You are charging the capacitors, and the harder you pedal, the greater the electric shock you will deliver through the steel ball into the colon of your rival. Try it now, push the button to see what happens.”
The children complied, and each jerked so much from the internal shock to their gut their feet slipped off the pedals. They quickly regained their rhythm on the machines, pedaling as hard as they could, now knowing they were charging the batteries.
“One of them, the Sikh, pushed her button again, delivering a second shock to her opponent, but this one was milder, since the first had drained most of the energy from the battery, which required recharging. and with only a scream as a result, but not loss of control of the peddles.
“The longer and harder you pedal, the bigger the shock you will deliver,” the handler explained, “And when you use the button you drain the battery, until the capacitor recharges it, due to your rapid peddling.”
“The children understood, and peddled harder and faster. The Buddhist girl who had received the last shock had not used her button when the other gave her the last shot, so had a bigger charge building. She kept on peddling without being tempted to use the button because she wanted to deliver a knock-out punch with her next shot.
“The Sikh girl had less patience or understanding, because she hit her button again, drawing flailing kicking and screaming from the Buddhist child, who also lost her hold on the hand grips, but the child whose parents followed the non-violent teachings of the Buddha was able to recover and continue peddling.
“Her legs were flying in rapid pumping on the peddles when at last she hit the button. The response from her little naked little foe was astounding. Her arms and legs were akimbo, and with her entire weight on her colon, she slid deeper onto the anal-invading post.
“More entertaining to the audience was that the Sikh girl lost bladder control, sending a spray of hot urine onto the metal plate below her pissing little cuntlet. The plate carried a charge independent of the other girl’s capacitor, and as long as the piss flowed, she took a painful flow of electricity up into her bladder.
“The Buddhist child was so startled at the effect that she pissed herself, hitting the plate beneath her spraying cuntlet with a steady stream of her own golden essence, and the electricity flowed as steadily into her bladder up the shimmering and steaming liquid piss-ladder.
“The children struggled to regain their foothold on the pedals, and the Buddhist girl was devastated when the Sikh succeeded. She had thought the shock the Sikh girl took would stop her from continuing, but she managed to get her legs going again, recharging the battery.
“The Sikh girl had an inspiration, and hit her button, causing a lighter but unsettling shock that served the purpose of interrupting her enemy’s use of the peddles. What neither girl knew, nor anyone in the audience, that there was an operator in the control room above.
“He was controlling the charges to the batteries, and the delivery of urine was the only contribution the girls were making to the competition. Any naked little girl on a bicycle with a post up her ass will peddle as hard and long as she could to avoid the horrific shocks.
“These two naked children were taking severe shocks inside themselves, and were clearly athletic bikers. What they also did not know was that the shocks delivered back up their streams of urine were dramatically reducing their ability to contain their piss.
“By the third bladder shock, the flow of urine from each was constant. It was by their piss streams that the lethal charges were delivered, and the audience squealed with pleasure as the two naked little brown female bodies contorted strikingly in vibrant spasms.
“The naked bodies of the little girls from India were locked in the most revealing spread of limbs and arching of torsos, with steam rising from the hot stream of piss boiling from the incredible killer-voltage delivered to them both. This was truly an exhibition rather than a competition.
“The simultaneous electrocution of the lovely nude little ladies seemed to be the ideal completion of the event. The current was turned off, the bodies sagged, and the handlers removed them, displaying them on their backs, arms and legs spread on the sand like roasted rodents for the audience to enjoy as further entertainment followed.”
THE END OF CHAPTER FOUR