THUNDERDOME 2 by Danté & Regis

Feature Writer: Danté / edited and enhanced by Regis

Feature Title: THUNDERDOME 2

Published: 27.12.2022

Story Codes: Erotic Horror, Death, Murder

Warning: This is a story of pure fantasy. There are no such people, places, and no such incidents every happened. This is entirely derived from the lusting imagination of the author, for his own amusement and yours. Never engage in any acts anything like those depicted here, outside of normal, consensual sex. There is not much of that contained in this document. You must never attempt to influence minors in areas of sexual behavior, or expose them to the kind of activities herein described. Even the delectable little girls described in this story, with their precious little beautifully presented genitalia are not real, so what is described could and did not really happen, and never should. Enough said. Now grab your own ready and eager equipment in a fist and start reading!

Thunderdome 2

The dressing room door was closed and locked when the last of the college girls had left the bus. Tammie noticed that the forty-five girls in the room were nearly identical height and build. The odds of that happening, she guessed, were one in several thousand. They heard the bus start and leave, and were getting quite nervous about what was happening.

Three walls were lined with lockers, and in front of the lockers were standard single-plank locker room benches. The girls were babbling in speculation about what was going on when a door opened at the far end of the dressing room and three shockingly and highly sexually dressed women entered.

The college girls were startled at the sight of the three women’s outrageous outfits. They were in light and dark grey costumes that were, to the college girls, absolutely bizarre. One of the women wore a military hat, blouse, shorts, long black gloves and black five-inch spike-heeled boots.

On her belt was a pistol and a knife. She stood with her hands on her hips, with her legs apart, and Tammie noticed how deeply the seam of her shorts split to reveal the naked mound of her vulva. Her blouse was tucked into her shorts and unbuttoned to the belt, revealing an impressive cleavage and her navel on a tight tummy. She was clearly in command.

The other two wore similar outfits, with their cunts also exposed, but their boots had only four-inch heels, and although they had no weapons on their belts, they both carried curled whips. The room came to a hush as the girls took in the strange sight. These three women appeared to embody pure evil.

Suddenly the lead woman signaled with her hand, and the other two uncoiled their whips. The co-eds were startled, and moved back. Something was about to happen, and the girls were not sure it would be something they’d want.

“There’s a locker for each of you,” she said, “You can store your bags and clothing in them. You’ll need to get completely disrobed. You’ll find a costume in the locker that should be a good fit.”

Wendy took an aggressive stand.

“There aren’t any locks on these lockers. Our things won’t be safe,” she said.

In answer, one of the long whips snaked out, and the tip struck her across the breasts. Even with the fabric of her sweater and bra as a buffer, the hard surprise blow stung.

She could not imagine the pain she would have felt had the vicious whip struck bare flesh. She screamed, and all of the girls moved to the lockers. Wendy took the one beside Tammie’s, and when she pulled it open she was surprised to see what lay inside. This was outrageous.

Each locker contained a pair of brightly polished brown spike heeled boots that came up nearly to the knee, a pair of similar leather gloves, and a strange helmet, made of curls of leather tubes strung together, with a protective pad on the chin strap. Just the boots, the gloves and the helmet. Nothing else.

One of the cheerleaders, who was wearing her miniskirt and loose sweater outfit, took off her shoes and socks, then started to put on the boots. The other whip lashed out at her, coming up under her buttocks with a smack that rang through the dressing room. This whole situation was getting serious.

“Get naked first, bitch,” said the leader.

“But there aren’t any panties or bras in here!” protested another girl.

Before she finished speaking, a whip slashed her across the face, splitting her lip.

“Are there any other comments?” the leader asked, “Speak up now, girls, so we can identify any of you young ladies who will require further discipline!”

The girls stripped silently, folding their clothing and stacking things neatly before piling them on the shelf inside the locker.

They were reluctant to remove their underwear, but the memory of the highly skilled women with the whips convinced them to comply with the leader’s demand. Soon all of them wore the boots, gloves and the strange leather helmets. And nothing else. They were in every other respect naked, their tits and cunts on full display.

The leader set out some small electric razors along the benches. She instructed the girls to shave their groins. The girls were shocked.

“You can leave a small patch above your pubic mound, but I want to see your arm pits, your crotches and your ass-cracks completely clean and as smooth as a baby’s.”

A few of the girls moved to the bench and sat down. The others looked with disgust at the leader. The woman showed her control by raising a hand and pointing at one of the reluctant girls. Both whips in the hands of her assistants assailed the co-ed’s naked flesh, knocking her off her feet with their powerful blows.

She writhed on the floor, stunned, and the whipping continued. The women with the whips were making an example of the girl who’s breasts were smaller than any those of the other girls. They were hurting her severely, and spared no part of her body. The violent blows to her cleanly shaved cunt from the merciless whips were so vicious that her pubic mound swelled, flaring her vulva.

Still the fast paced and violent whipping of the girl continued, until at last tiny drops of blood surfaced along the angry welts that covered her entire body. She had collapsed under the merciless assault, and they were whipping her as she writhed on the floor. This was incredibly harsh treatment, and the other girls were all screaming at the brutality.

When at last the leader signaled the women with the whips to pause, the girl was breathing heavily, but was not otherwise moving. Tammie believed the teen was unconscious from the inhuman whipping she had just endured. The others could not believe people could be so cruel to a naked girl.

“Do you think she has taken everything she can?” the leader asked the girls. Clearly the question was rhetorical, and just as clearly, the girl had taken as much as she could endure. “We can give her more, if you believe its necessary to get her to cooperate.”

The girls screamed, “No!” in unison when the woman signaled the resumption of the whipping.

The ladies with the whips ignored the response.

“Get up, bitch!” one of them shouted.

It was clear she could not. They immediately resumed landing incredibly damaging blows to the naked body, and kept it up until she went limp.

There was no sign of breathing, and the girls were certain they had whipped her to death. The naked co-eds quickly jumped onto the benches, spread their legs, took up the little electric razors and began shaving the hair from their naked cunts, all of them quivering uncontrollably as they worked.

The beautiful young women, all freshmen in their late teens, were sobbing as they did the degrading task. The leader and her two assistants walked along the line, inspecting the progress of the body hair trimming, clearly enjoying the feat they had brought to the group of young college girls.

Some of the girls, ranging in age from seventeen to nineteen, had little to do in the area of special grooming, as they kept their armpits bare and their crotches neatly trimmed so they could wear revealing bikinis. Most of them had little body hair between their buttocks, but others had significant growth there.

Those with hairy cracks had to raise their legs high and roll back on the bench to get the razor into the seam to shave around their rectums. When the humiliating operation was complete, all of the college girls were all as slick as babies, with the exception of a signature puff of pubic hair a few had left above their pretty and now fully displayed cunts.

They had also learned an important lesson. When the leader told them to do something they did not want to do, they were all now much more likely to obey any commands. They knew nothing of the reasoning behind their abduction, nor the reason for their naked costuming, but they were quickly learning to become compliant, because immediate obedience appeared to be necessary for survival.


The club’s acquisitions committee had been busy. A team of female roller blade skaters had been snapped up from a Detroit bar where they had been celebrating their victory over a rival team. The team they had defeated had also been abducted from another bar, and both teams had arrived by sealed bus at the private Chicago arena.

The athletic girls had been drugged for the trip, and swampers had to off-load the sedated amateur athletes. The two buses full of roller-blade competitors from Detroit had arrived and the girls had been secured in the “home” dressing room less than an hour before the college girls’ bus had arrived.

The roller blade skaters were to be the opening act that evening, but needed less preparation than did the college girls. They would appear in their own roles, wearing their own skates and otherwise completely naked, performing a diabolical and lethal variation of their favorite sport.

As they slept, one by one they were propped up in a barber’s chair and had their hair done. The girls were injected with a general anesthetic to ensure they remained asleep while the hairdressers worked on them. The team that had won the competition the night before, all of them large-breasted stocky whites, had their hair dyed black, and done into tight French braids.

The team that had lost the roller derby, who were all mahogany-skinned blacks, also stocky and large-breasted, had their hair chemically straightened and bleached blonde, then both sides of their heads were shaved clean, leaving them with flowing golden Mohawk cuts.

At six o’clock in the evening, as the girls started to awaken, piping hot pizza arrived for them, along with cases of cold cokes. The girls had not eaten since the previous evening, and it was important that they have their strength for the up-coming event. This was the kind of junk food they lived on.

The three women in the quasi-military costumes with the whips were there to greet them when they woke up, and used the whips to get them all alert and paying attention.

Both the white and the black team were shocked to see what had been done to their hair, and were stunned that they were naked and being held captives. The last thing any of them remembered was being bought a free round of beer by a couple of good looking and friendly strangers.

Now their dignity had been disturbed by their nakedness, and the shocking change to their hair. They were also spaced out because these three weird ladies with the savage whips were holding them against their will in a strange dressing room. These were mostly factory workers, all in their twenties.

They were famished, and were therefore unable to resist the stacks of hot pizza and cases of cokes. They dove into the food and cokes, cleaning up every bit that was provided, which was ample. They were all very hungry. As bad as things were, at least their bellies would be full.

Equally as important as feeding the skaters was having the college girls’ bellies empty. They were not going to need energy beyond what they had obtained with their breakfast. All of them were fit enough for the event slated for them, and it was important their waists be as narrow as possible to enhance the effect.

It was also important that they not have food to digest, so that they would become more aggressive with the drug they would be given an hour before they were to perform. The system was very well designed, and the ladies as performers were no more than pawns in the hands of their captors.

While the roller blade skaters feasted, the trio of women returned to the visitors dressing room, and herded the nude college freshman students in their gloves, boots and helmets out into the receiving area. Only the girl who had been so severely whipped was left behind, lying where she had fallen.

There was no movement from her, and with no sign of breathing, the others were certain she had been whipped to death. All she had done to deserve her fate was to question what she was told to do. That was, in the minds of the others, no reason for her to be killed by these heartless women with their vicious whips.

The two women with the long singing whips drove the gaggle of forty-four naked college girls in their boots, gloves and helmets down the long wide passage, and through a double doorway that brought them onto what seemed to be the stage of a small theater. The lighting was so bright that it was blinding.

They had no idea what was going on. The only elements on the small stage were two pieces of furniture. One of these was an enameled steel table. The other looked like a gynecologist’s examination chair. The main difference was bizarre: the chair was sloped, with stirrups.

These would spread the legs of whoever was seated in it as she was lying back. It also had armrests, with straps to restrain the patient’s arms and legs. It was clearly not built for comfort; the entire device was made of stainless steel, with no cushions to cover the cold steel of the chair.

Tammie, Wendy and the others were shocked at the cold, clinical, inhuman appearance of the thing. They knew immediately that they were all going to be required to sit in it. Their shaved cunts were quivering nervously, and with good reason. They all understood their naked genitalia would be the focus of attention once they were strapped in.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you the fearless Thunderdrome-Riders!”

The disembodied voice boomed from the excellent sound system. The abrupt announcement was followed immediately by applause, and the girls realized that there was an audience filling the darkened theater. They were being watched as they stood there, naked and exposed. These people were disgusting.

“These forty-four lovely ladies may look like a group of pretty nudes at the moment, but we are about to transform them into true cyborgs, so that they might become one with their powerful machines.”

The girls looked around for the source of the voice, but there was no sign of him, until a curtain parted, and a man strode out onto the stage, carrying a doctor’s medical bag. He was wearing white pants and shirt, like a hospital internist. He placed the big bag on the table, then he wandered among the girls on the stage.

He stopped and stared deep into the eyes of each. It appeared he was testing their metal. This proved to be a simple but effective psychological test. When he had looked at each of them, he selected two dozen girls, and instructed the remaining twenty to stand at the back of the stage.

One by one, he instructed the girls he had selected to climb onto the stainless-steel examining chair. The two women with the whips were there to enforce his command, and one by one the nude girls, trembling with anxiety, complied. These were freshman college students from good homes, and were not used to being treated like livestock.

With their arms and spread legs securely strapped to the device, the man took a strange tool from his bag. It looked like a very large pair of pliers, but one with an exceptional difference: there was a long claw-like hook attached to one prong that fit neatly into a hole in the other.

With this device he pierced a hole through the top of each girl’s vulva, just behind the clit. With a second equally imposing tool, he squeezed closed a large steel ring through the hole. Grasping their nipples, he pulled each breast out severely, then attached similar rings through the tender tit-meat behind the nipples.

As he worked, he explained to the audience what he was doing.

“The purpose of these rings is to attach the girls to their machines, making them no longer human, but mere extensions of the steel muscle, and thus they become rudimentary but true cyborgs. They came to us as bright young college girls. Now they will live or die as part of their machines.”

The audience enjoyed the genital piercing as much as the piercing screams produced by the nude girls, both from the horror of what was being done to them, but also from the pain. The man took no time for anesthetic, but drove the hook and then the rings through their delicate and sensitive genital meat as if he was punching tickets at a stadium.

Wendy was the seventh girl to get into the chair. She trembled with fear as she stepped up onto the chair and was strapped into place. There was no alternative but to comply. It was clear that the women with the whips would flail alive any girl stupid enough to not be fully cooperative.

The searing pain of the vaginal piercing was incredible. She screamed at the top of her lungs as the claw was driven through her meat, to sink into the hole on the other side of the nightmarish pliers. It was even worse as her breasts were savagely pierced and ringed. Wendy was sure she was going to faint.

She was sobbing and shaking when she was released, and she stood, staring at herself and the damage done to the most intimate parts of her body in disbelief. She realized for the first time how truly inhuman her captors were. They had no concern for the pain and humiliation they brought on the girls.

In fact, the bizarre women with their whips were enjoying it, as if this was pure entertainment. Wendy thought she was going to vomit, but somehow she managed to keep her nervous stomach under control. It was very warm in the room, but she was shivering uncontrollably.

After twelve girls had been through the ordeal on the chair, those that followed went more quickly, as the remainder had only their cunts pierced. Tammie was number fifteen, and her beautiful firm breasts were spared the deforming piercing and ringing. Having a big heavy ring flopping against her cunt was bad enough.

She was surprised that the man had decided to not pierce the tits of several girls, but realized that he might have different plans for some of them. There was no telling what this was all about, and she felt sorry for her friend Wendy, who’s clit hood had been pierced, and now the little love bud was standing high, as if at attention. Could it be that Wendy was enjoying this?

The talk of attaching them to machines and steel muscle scared her. She wondered if they were going to get really weird and amputate limbs to make them into cyborgs. She remembered seeing reruns of the television show about the, “Six Million Dollar Man,” with the artificial legs, and an artificial arm.

These people were so brutal they would probably not hesitate to remove a girl’s limb, an arm or even a shapely leg, just for the fun of replacing it for their evil intent. That thought scared her more than anything else. She was sure she would die if they even cut her. There was no way she deserved this kind of treatment.

When all of the girls who had been selected had been pierced, the horrendous chair was tilted back, ready for another operation. The girls who had been pierced blanched, but were relieved when they were herded to the back of the stage. Now it was the turn of the twenty who had yet to get onto the chair.

Tammie and Wendy actually watched the debasing proceedings with interest, now that it was clear they were not going to be part of the next operation. The twenty girls who had not been pierced all received identical treatment. The chair had been set so they lay rather than sat, with their pelvises tilted up.

In this bizarre position they presented their cunts to the doctor. He used a tool similar to the one that had pierced the others, but again, there was a significant difference. The arms of this new tool were longer, and an open ring with a sharp point on one side was loaded into it.

Tied to the ring was fifteen feet of leather thong. When the ring was in place, the instrument was inserted deep into the womb of the girl lying strapped to the tilted chair. The instrument was thrust into her full depth, then the ring was clamped into the meat of her uterus, the exposed pad of flesh at the cervix.

From the incredible screams the girls produced, it was clear to the others that cunt piercing was not nearly so painful or shockingly traumatic as having their gonads pierced deep inside them. These girls were getting a long leather leash attached to their sexual core. This was more humiliating than anything either Tammie or Wendy could have ever dreamed up.

It was clear to the girls that these people were merciless and truly evil. The piercing of their internal sex organs was clearly as painful as it appeared. The girls were gagged as they got onto the steel chair, and while they were being pierced, they strained with incredible energy, lifting their thighs and twisting in the confines of their binding.

Tammie grimaced and covered her eyes as the relentless internal organ piercing continued. The muted screams of the gagged girls revealed their true hysteria. When each was finished, she was unstrapped, her gag was removed, and she was made to stand, sobbing in anguish at her fate.

The girls were lined up along the back of the stage, their new leashes dangling to the floor from the parted fold of their invaded vaginas. Their deeply abusive treatment was totally degrading, and was bringing the girls who were forced to endure this deep organ piercing not only pain but also a level of humiliation.

This was a degrading deeper than any of them could have guessed to be possible. Even dogs wouldn’t be leashed this way. Their leashes were anchored to their inner reproductive system! In an operation that lasted less than three minutes, each of these beautiful young ladies was reduced to below the level of a common house pet, with a permanent leash attached inside her.

Their captors were teaching these fresh young co-eds a new value for women, one so low it was below the girls’ wildest imagining. These were innocent young college girls, who had enjoyed protected lives, and had never seen the dark underbelly of society. Now they were experiencing it first hand.

They knew nothing of the degradation given to prostitutes by their pimps, but even prostitutes would be shocked at the preparations of these lovely creatures. Experienced whores would, however, be well aware that there was much more to come, and that this treatment was likely light compared to what they faced.


Most of the audience was seated in the lavish viewing area of the converted arena. A few of those who had arrived early to witness the preparations of the combatants were still coming up from the small theater beneath the stands, while others were still ordering their drinks from the bizarrely decorated nude waitresses.

These exotic creatures, all fresh high school graduates, were part of the stable of newly trained call girls run by one of the members, who was the head of organized crime in Chicago. These girls were part of his considerable personal property, and they no longer had any rights as human beings. They were among his possessions.

These naked girls serving the guests were incredibly beautiful, and were bound to their owner by threat of an immediate death to their parents and best friends. These no longer innocent young girls, who were wearing only perfectly fitting custom-made black high-heeled boots, had been to similar events many times before, and were nearly immune to the violence that was about to unfold.

The drinks the members ordered were laced with opium, to give them a euphoric high as they watched the violent drama that was about to be played out for their entertainment. Even the most ardent fan of this excessively violent Thunderdrome sport required a lift to get them through the bloody carnage that faced the bus-loads of captive girls.

The Thunderdrome was built to become a death pit for motorized blood-sport, and that was how it was used. This was not a sport that produced experience for the captive participants, as they were not only expected but required to die as the brutal highly sexualized sport progressed.

The extensive sprinkler system had not been installed in the arena as a precaution against fire, as it appeared, but was instead a practical way to deal with the volume of blood and gore that would be spilled as the evening of violence to the naked women unfolded. The ladies still had no idea they were about to become engaged in killing sports.

The seductive nude waitresses, drugged with both opiates and stimulants, served another function. Their job was to see that everyone was having a good time. One of their duties was to tease male members into removing their penises from the privacy of their pants, to ensure that all male guests sported rigid erections before the events began, and sustained them throughout.

They were also charged with restoring to firmness any sagging pricks that ejaculated during the action in the arena. Some of the men were not highly experienced at these blood-sports, and when a man’s penis dropped, there was a danger he might become sickened by the horrors in the arena, reducing his pleasure in attending.

These girls were to act as cheerleaders, making obscene and stimulating moves with their bodies to keep the men aroused. Like the captive athletes, they wore high-heeled boots, long gloves and old-fashioned leather helmets, but these service girls had not endured the painful genital piercing the college girls had just faced.

The women in the audience were also well attended to. Half a dozen bronzed bodied young men with an incredible degree of muscle development moved through the audience, openly masturbating their large erections doing obscene dances, and copulating with another’s rectum to keep the ladies interested.

These powerfully built young men carried riding crops, and used them liberally on the nude waitresses. From time to time, when they noticed a woman’s attention flagging, they would abruptly drop a waitress to her knees and anally rape her as well. This was all for show, and the service girls were used to this kind of treatment while they were working the stands.

While one of the studs was humping into a waitress’s rectum, he would force her to crawl between the legs of the female guest and orally stimulate her vagina with her mouth. Prepared for this lavish attention, the women came to the event wearing no panties under their skirts.

When the girl was properly dominated, the man would withdraw his penis from her anus and put his whip to work on her buttocks and vulva while she continued to orally service the genitalia of the guests. This was a time to party, and for these people, sexual violence to attractive young females was what stimulated them most.

They treated their female servants as badly as their captive girls, but with less severity. Unlike most people, these in the organization were able to bring to life their most violent fantasies, always at the expense of the beautiful young women they captured, trained and put into violent sexual service in large numbers.

The lights in the seating area of the Thunderdrome dimmed, and the lights flooding the action area seemed to get even brighter. The music blasting from the high-quality sound system had progressed from smooth rock to a harsh, demanding beat. The intense rhythm raised emotions, and with them expectations. The crowd was up for an evening of brutal sexual violence.

As the driving tempo of the blaring music increased, so did the volume, until the sound of the music dominated everything. The level of raw, pagan excitement built in the stands with the increased drive of the music. The powerful male voice on the PA announced to everyone seated in the stands in a commanding voice: “Ladies and gentlemen, hold on to your cocks and cunts, because It’s Fucking Show-Time!”


Wendy and Tammie were stunned at the extravagant preparations they saw. Several burly male handlers moved them into rows, keeping them organized. They and the others had been herded up a long wide concrete ramp that brought them from under the stands to a large elevated launching platform.

That was the only word they could think of to describe it. It was near one end and at the lip of the huge oval that lay before them. It was like a staging area. There were mountain bikes with high posts that bent forward, in place of seats, old BMW motorcycles with the same kind of post where the seat should be.

Behind these, parked against the back wall like sinister monsters, were large low-slung motorcycles unlike anything either of the girls had seen before. They were twice as wide and half as high as big motorcycles, but there the resemblance ended. Instead of a seat there was a curved leather pad, as if the rider was to lay flat.

Loud driving rock music filled the whole arena, making it hard to think. The girls looked out over the huge Thunderdrome, and saw that there was an audience seated above one side of the bizarre arena. There were naked girls and men serving the guests, and entertaining them with obscene performances.

This was really gross, but they could see no way to get out of here. They felt trapped, and terrified at what might be expected of them. The bowl of the Thunderdrome was lined with small barricades, ramps and jumps, and part of the surface near one end was milky white and shiny, appearing to be ice.

Suddenly the girls realized that what they were seeing was in fact ice. The steep curve approaching one corner was sheeted with a blanket of ice such as you would find in a hockey or figure skating arena. However, due to the curve of the slope, there was no way anyone could skate on that ice.

They then spotted the most frightening thing of all: the sides of the Thunderdrome, all except for the launching area where they stood, was a wall covered with three-foot-long spikes, sticking out of the walls horizontally. These were enough to discourage anyone from coming within several feet of the side walls.

They were truly trapped here, and they knew they were about to experience horrors worse than they could guess. There were far more girls collected at the staging area than had come on the bus with them. In addition to those that had been in their dressing room, there were two teams of twenty nudes.

One of the teams was made up of all black girls, wearing helmets like theirs over bizarre dyed hair styles, featuring a lot of shaved scalp. They wore roller-blades, and each had a big brass-studded glove with the fist sewn closed. The gloves were treacherous punching weapons, and looked fearsome.

Just then the two women with the whips brought up the ramp the girl from their group that had been so severely whipped after they arrived here. They were surprised that she was alive, and now awake. Her head was bowed, and her arms were tied tightly behind her back, making her firm round breasts bulge and point.

One of the BMW’s was rolled forward, and the woman who was in charge of the two with the whips removed her shorts and she was lifted high in the air by two of the male assistants. One of the whip women applied a clear gel between her leader’s buttocks, then she was lowered over the stout vertical steel post until the round head of it pressed against her anus. The men then literally dropped her, and the shaft was driven by her weight deep inside her colon. She stood on posts on the side of the bike’s frame, but the shaft was still more than a foot and a half inside her.

One of the men kick started the bike while the other held it up, and the girl with her arms bound was pushed out onto the lip of the bowl of the huge Thunderdrome. Except for spike heeled boots like the others wore, she was stark naked. Although the launching pad was curved, the sides of the bowl were steeper than they appeared.

The girl stumbled forward screaming at the top of her lungs, struggling to keep upright in those incredible spike heeled boots. The woman on the bike revved the engine, but let the girl run. When the naked fugitive was nearing the bottom of the slope, the woman gunned the engine and the bike leapt forward into space.

This was the first time Wendy and Tammie noticed that the front tire of the bike had been replaced with a steel two and a half foot diameter disk. They heard the crash of the steel front wheel striking the cement and saw the shower of sparks when the bike landed, and watched in horror as the bike closed on the running girl.

The woman was going to intentionally run her down! The bike was so horrible a machine it was clear the girl on foot could be seriously hurt, or even killed! Tammie could not believe the woman would intentionally want to injure or even kill an innocent girl. This was a shocking nightmare, and was happening right in front of her.

The captive girls on the elevated staging area watched in horror as the motorcycle accelerated down the slope of the huge bowl, running straight at the running girl. The woman on the bike ran a course that was just to the right of the girl, and as she came up to her she kicked out viciously with her boot at the girl’s buttocks with a force sent her flying.

With her arms bound tightly behind her, the girl had no protection. She lifted her head and landed on her chin, protected only by her helmet’s chin strap. The rest of her weight came down on her protruding shoulders and her bulging breasts, which had no protecting strap. The round mammaries were flattened, and severely braised when she skidded to a stop on the coarse concrete.

The bike turned as it ran up the far wall of the bowl, and the girl was barely back on her feet when the bike hit her. She stood facing the accelerating machine, bracing herself and screaming in terror as it roared toward her.

The woman swerved at the last second, and the bike skidded into the girl, flipping her in the air as the vicious vehicle once more sped off. The spectators realized with horror how dangerous that steel wheel was. Had it hit her straight on it would have cut her badly, with the potential to amputate a shapely limb.

The helpless nude bitch with her arms bound behind her landed hard on her back, and was clearly dazed from the violent blow of the bike and the hard landing on the concrete floor that followed. She twisted around, and attempted to crawl on her back toward the shelter of a near-by barricade.

The young woman on the motorcycle came roaring down the Thunderdrome wall at another angle, and this time launched herself with one of the jumps. The fallen girl was lying tits up, moaning in agony from the impact and her violent fall. Her legs were spread, and she was using her feet to push herself painfully across the arena’s hard floor.

The college girl on the bike was approaching her at a right angle, and would hit the girl’s side with that horrific steel wheel if the fallen nude did not spring to her feet quickly. Her aim was perfect. The steel front wheel of the speeding bike sliced deep into the girl’s waist, and the spinning rear skidding in torn flesh tire finished the job. The girl was chopped cleanly in half at the waist!

It was an incredible show of merciless power. The damaged young cunt had been deliberately murdered in the most horrible way. This event was staged to make the most of shock value, and the woman on the bike knew exactly how to shock her audience. The incredible mutilation of the college girl was also designed to be a stern warning to her friends awaiting their turn.

The naked girls in the staging area screamed in disbelief, while the special audience cheered the display of unfettered and completely gratuitous violence. The captive girls realized now the full extent of the plans these evil people had for them. They realized there was a good chance they were all going to be killed, slaughtered just for the entertainment of these unbelievably sadistic people in the stands. The door to the ramp had been bolted shut behind them, and they were now trapped.

They stared, stunned, at the two halves of the violently murdered girl lying spread apart on the broad concrete floor, her viscera sliding out of her upper and lower halves. They realized they would all be called upon to go down into that monstrous Thunderdrome to perform. Now that the horrific example had been set, it appeared the outcome for many of them could be death as terrible as hers. They sobbed in anguish. There was no escape from this incredible living nightmare. They were doomed.

The motorcycle ran back up the launching ramp, and came to a stop in front of the girls. One man held the bike while two others lifted the woman’s anus off the incredible bent impaling shaft. The ball on the end emerged from her stretched asshole with a loud “pop”, and then the woman was set on her feet. She looked with satisfaction at the blood of the dead girl smeared on the front blade-wheel of the motorcycle. Her naked cunt was dripping with sexual arousal. The girls from small-town Ohio were stunned. Killing the helpless girl had actually been sexually satisfying for her!

“Not all of you need to die today,” she said as she scanned the rows of beautifully terrified young bitch faces. “All you have to do is give it your best, and you might survive. The best killers will have a chance to walk out of here. There is no other way. I know it won’t be easy for you. It will mean taking out a few of the others to earn your freedom, but it will all be worthwhile if you can live to tell about it, won’t it!”

The girls stared at her in shocked disbelief. She was asking them to compete to kill each other! They had just witnessed the senseless killing of an innocent girl, and now the horrible woman was telling them they had to do the same thing! It was absolutely gross! Several of the captive young ladies began to pee from sheer terror.

“That’s the spirit, girls!” said the woman in command. “When you’ve got to get your feelings out, there’s nothing like a liquid expression of fear! It’s down and dirty time, ladies! Let’s get at it!” The men helped sort the female captives, and Wendy and Tammie were divided. Tammie was lifted high in the air and had her rectum lowered onto one of the shaft-seats of the steel-wheeled BMW’s.

She did not enjoy the benefit of a lubricant, but instead the forward-bending dry shaft was driven through her dry and impossibly stretched rectum and a foot and a half deep into her colon. A total of twelve girls were similarly mounted on these motorcycles. A short chain from the frame of the motorcycle was clipped onto their cunt rings, to ensure they could not move up off the posts to dismount from the classic motorbikes.

Wendy and the other girls who had both their vaginas and breasts pierced got to ride the monsters. They were made to lie on the padded sloped bench between the front and back wheels of one of the low slung but enormously powerful looking cut-down Harleys. Wendy shivered as she lay there, and squealed as her cunt ring was clipped to a ring on the rear fender.

With her ass propped high and her legs spread wide over the fat gas tanks, her cunt and anus were fully displayed. She felt more naked than she was. Her chin strap rested on the front fender, and she felt jolts of pain as her breasts were pulled down on either side of the platform she lay on, and her nipple-rings clipped to rings on the machine’s frame.

Next she was forced to stick out her tongue. One of the men grabbed the extended female bitching muscle and pulled it out painfully from her mouth. Then he jammed the incredibly stretched tongue down on a curved spike that stood up from the bike’s front fender to anchor her head to the monstrous bike.

The spike drove up painfully through her tongue, bursting out through the top in a spray of blood, impaling her elongated pink mouth organ and holding it severely extended from her open mouth. He pulled the hinged spike forward, and clipped it into place, forcing her eyes to bulge with the pain, and effectively holding her chin firmly in place against the bike’s broad front fender.

The strain which was suddenly pulling at her pierced cunt, breasts and tongue was incredible. It felt as if all four points of attachment were so stressed that the rings were in danger of being pulled right out of her flesh. Her tongue felt like it was about to be ripped out. Wendy lay quivering in her nakedness, painfully linked to the powerful machine. She was now one with it, no more than a human attachment, an ornament that had some but only limited control of the mechanical monster.

She reached forward and gripped the handles to brace herself, and her ankles came to rest on support posts on the rear wheel’s broad fender. She was now fully attached to the machine, positioned to ride. She could not move her head or torso, although her limbs were free. She had become one with the steel and leather, a naked rider on the bizarre motorcycle, unable to remove herself from its grip.

Wendy could turn her head no more than half an inch in either direction without causing a surge of pain in her tongue. Her eyes had more mobility, and she could see the other girls being mounted on their machines. As she watched the young ladies, all of her general size and build, being clipped in place on the incredible motorcycles, she realized how well designed these outrageous machines were.

The naked young women were well displayed on the low tilted pads that thrust their spread buttocks high. They actually looked very sexy with their long legs spread wide over the broad twin gas tanks that extended back on either side of the rear wheel, their genitalia on full display between their spread legs.

They looked like frogs in the middle of a leap. It was an incredibly revealing and sexy posture. She had forgotten how stimulating the shape of a well-built female’s back could be, when properly presented. She realized that these machines had been designed to put the naked female riders in a bizarre action pose. Even in her pain and anxiety, she saw the bizarrely erotic side of the way she and the others were being displayed.

Wendy was close enough to the viewing stands to see the grossly obscene gestures of the nude young waitresses, who were striking masculine poses, rotating their pelvises and thrusting their naked cunts as if they were equipped with large penises, and were pumping the air with their fists, profanely masturbating their invisible cocks.

She was both disgusted and excited at their wanton behavior. These young ladies belonged in the bubble gum set, and instead they were performing like wanton whores. It was incredible to her that they allowed those muscular boys to move in behind them and rape their bums even as they danced. She could not believe this kind of outrageous behavior from women her age.

Worrying about that kept her mind occupied, and away from the horrendously desperate situation in which she now found herself. She looked at Tammie, standing on the stationary BMW with that thick steel shaft stuck deep into her colon. From her position behind Tammie she could see her friend’s rectum spread desperately wide to grasp the steel post that invaded her fundament. Although Tammie was her room mate and best friend ever, she had never before noticed how great her legs were. She was a very sexy looking girl.

When all two dozen girls were mounted on their motorcycles, half of the girls with cunt-leashes were mounted onto the anus-shafts on the mountain bikes. The ten bikes were equipped with nasty triple-pronged blades that stuck out two feet from either side of the front axle. The axle had been rigged so that the blades would spin when the wheel turned. The other ten leashed girls were given what looked like policemen’s nightsticks, and were lined up at the front of the ramp.

“Okay, ladies, like I said, its show-time!” the lead woman said, “Its kill or be killed in this sport, so let’s get down and dirty!” .

Wendy noticed that she had not bothered to replace her shorts. The woman was an exhibitionist.

“I told you that many of you are going to die out there, and the audience is expecting it. Only the most aggressive girl will survive. Basically, it comes down to kill or be killed. There are no other options. You will see we have stationed snipers with high powered rifles around the Thunderdrome, and they have orders to blow away any of you who show any reluctance to kill out there. We’ve broken you into teams, to make your chances better.

“Work together, help each other kill the others and you will improve your chances of making it. If you don’t cooperate in the killing, you will be a certain mark, and make yourself an easily accessible target for a ready kill. Cunt kills are essential, and if you don’t do it to them, they’ll certainly do it to you.”

“We’ve got to kill each other out there?” shouted one of the white roller blade girls, “This is fucking insane!”

“Indeed it is,” agreed the woman, “That’s part of the charm of this sport, isn’t it? There are no rules, so sanity has nothing to do with it. This is entertainment! You’ve all got to keep killing each other until there is only one girl left. Those studded gloves we’ve given you are enough to kill with, and that’s how we expect you to use them.”

She had to shout to be heard over the driving beat of the rock music. The naked girls were all listening intently, and several of them began to piss themselves as the realization of what she was saying sunk in.

“Alright, ladies, let’s entertain! Remember to give it your best, or either the other girls will get you or the men with the rifles will take you out!”

The male assistants moved up behind the leash girls who were armed with the clubs and pushed them over the sloped ramp out into the arena. The screaming girls slid in their high heeled boots, and many of them stumbled. They quickly regained their feet and ran out into the middle of the Thunderdrome.

The quivering cunts were unsure of what they were to do. They looked up and saw the rifles pointed at them. They could spot four marksmen positioned around the Thunderdrome, their rifles leveled. The girls tentatively swung their batons at each other, striking at bare backs, buttocks and breasts.

Suddenly a voice boomed through the public address system over the rock music.

“These ladies are really getting into in the spirit of things,” the powerful male voice said, “The stupid bitches are so vicious they are attacking other members of their own team! Its too bad they don’t show more team spirit!”

There was a sudden crack of a rifle, and one of the girls leaped high in the air, one of her fat breasts blown open with a powerful bullet. A second slug ripped through one buttock as she flipped in the air, and she crashed to the cement floor and bounced, back on her feet at still grasping her club.

The other girls on the Thunderdrome floor screamed at the horror and merciless nature of the vicious rifle attack. The bitch’s breast was totally ruined, blown open like a roast of raw meat, and her buttock was not much better off. This horror was for real, and their only recourse was to cooperate in the insane demands of them.

They all suddenly attacked each other, swinging their hardwood batons at each other with a vengeance, screaming like branded banshees. With the example of the girl split entirely in half by the motorcycle, and now with the demonstration that the snipers were for real, they were instant converts, willing to at least hurt each other for the chance that they might live through this monstrous nightmare.

At that moment the black roller blade team was launched into the Thunderdrome, rolling quickly into the battle, each of them armed with a metal-studded glove. They were a bizarre sight, their blonde Mohawk mains flowing in the air behind them as they sped down the slope on their in-line skates, whooping like ferocious warriors. The girls on foot spun around to face them, and moved to do greater violence by the frightening wave of the oncoming attack, met the speeding skaters with vicious blows with their batons.

Half a dozen of the skaters were promptly knocked off their feet, and as many of the girls with the clubs were knocked over. One of the black skaters took a direct blow to the face with a club, which smashed her nose, fractured a cheekbone, and burst open an eyeball. Another nude girl had a kneecap smashed with a club, and as she fell with her legs spread she pissed a sparkling arch of golden urine from the pain.

The beautiful young blue-collar women were quickly warming to the heat of the battle, driven by retaliation as they were struck by their opponents. The cunts who were working girls and had been on the roller blade teams were more aggressive at first, but the college girls soon learned to go for severe injury.

Self defense was soon overtaken by feelings of anger and outright aggression. These girls were bright, and quickly grasped the reality that killing was the only way they were going to survive this murderous mayhem. The skaters used their rollerblade speed to their advantage, but had to contend with the greater range of the clubs.

The next team released into the Thunderdrome was the cunt-leashed girls mounted on the 18 speed mountain bikes. They screamed like banshees as they were pushed onto the ramp, and they raced down the steep slope of the bowl, knowing their only chance for survival was to take out the girls on foot and skates with the flashing spinning blades on their front axles.

One of the skaters made a quick move, so that the whirling blades narrowly missed her legs, then she quickly moved behind the bike as it flew by, and then quickly stomped on the leather leash that dragged behind the bike rider. She had quickly realized the way to effectively bring the bike bitch down.

The result of her move was spectacular. The leash jerked tight, the bike flipped into the air, and the bent post jerked out of the rider’s anus. The blades on the flying bike slashed the face and big tits of one of the black skaters, ripping deep into the light red meat under her dark skin.

The slashed black cunt fell, screaming at the top of her lungs, and the bicycle fell on top of her. The event had just started, with the major killing machines yet to be engaged, and already these captive girls were performing well beyond the expectations of their captors. The program was working perfectly.

The black skater who had stopped the rider pounced onto the fallen college girl, and began driving her metal-studded gloved fist into the bitch, pounding her big breasts and her face with all the violence she could muster. She screamed in both horror and rage as she violently slammed the weapon on her fist repeatedly into the screaming white face, and the weapon did it’s job as it was designed to do.

Suddenly a bike rushed by, ripping open the kneeling black girl’s side. She screamed, sat bolt upright, and suddenly a baton smashed into the back of her head with such force that it knocked off her leather helmet and crushed the back of her skull. One of the lovely young college girls had committed the first intentional kill of the afternoon. The innocent young cheerleader had with one violent blow become a killer cunt.

The number of brutal bitch kills in the bizarre arena began to mount. One of the bicycle riders took a skater’s studded glove to the belly, and as she collapsed, still impaled up the ass with the seat post, a spike heeled boot from another cunt-leash girl kicked out an eye, then the heel drove in through her ear, impaling her brain.

A bike rode past her as she stood with her boot stuck in the downed girl’s skull, and she fell forward onto her big tits as her leg was severely slashed. She dropped her baton as she fell. A black skater snatched it up, and drove the thirty-inch long weapon with all her strength into the fallen girls cunt, thrusting the baton so deep that only six inches of the handle stuck out of the impaled cunt. The other end had driven right through the fallen bitch’s internal organs and the end pressed against her pounding heart.

The team of white roller blade skaters were released next, but these girls were less inclined that their black opponents to fight. That made them fair game for the marksmen with the rifles, there to encourage active and eager participation in the mayhem.

Four shots rung out within half a second from the marksmen, all aimed at the same naked female target. It was one of the girls who was evading pursuit. She was hit by two of the highly destructive bullets in each knee, neatly amputating her lower legs. She fell on her back, skidding on her bare ass, her big eyes bulging as she saw the long kicking blood-spurting stumps where her gorgeous legs had been.

The others quickly got the shocking message, and got into the fight with surprising vigor. As the numbers of participants increased on the floor of the huge Thunderdrome, the area of action expanded. The girls on foot ran after and away from the speedy skaters, and the girls on the bicycles with the spinning blades gave chase, taking advantage of the sloped walls to gain speed.

Tits, butts, head and limbs were all fair game, and the blows were now all intended not just to hurt but to terminate the opposition. They had not yet grasped that the opposition included everyone. Even though they were in similarly outfitted groups, they were now entirely on their own, with no allies.

One of the white skaters got herself trapped between four of the cunt-leash girls, and the unfortunate bitch was beaten to death with the brutal hardwood clubs before assistance could arrive. Her tits were battered so violently that the flesh split, and strands of fatty tit-meat dangled out.

Several of her ribs were cracked, and jagged edges of white bone stuck out through the bloody rips in her side. These were classic compound wounds, with fractured bones on display. Her cunt was severely battered, and then as others cooperated in her kill, her skull was cave in with a dozen repeated blows.

Other girls converged on the violent killing scene, and soon more of the naked young women became battered carcasses. The only rationalization the hysterical girls could make for the killings was that each dead girl was one more that could not kill her. This was a desperate situation, and called for desperate rationalization in order to survive.

It was, as the woman in charge had told them, kill or be killed. The weak died, and none of the girls wanted to appear weak. This was the basest of all base behaviors, and was meaningless except to their captors, who were in total control. The nude girls stuck out at each other with amazing energy, performing like seasoned professional pit fighters out of frantic necessity.

Suddenly the air was filled with a frightening new sound. Over the high energy pulse of the heavy metal rock music came the roar of motorcycle engines starting. The men were kick-starting the BMW bikes with the deadly steel front wheels. The battling girls stopped their frenzied fighting to see the new more deadly threat that was about to descend upon them.

One of the black roller blade skaters took the opportunity to bring down the girl nearest her, who fell hard onto her belly and tits. The black girl pounced. She drove her tightly bent knee into the white girl’s upper spine between the shoulder blades, using her full weight on the knee to pin the bitch to the cement floor, bulging the big white tits severely.

She grabbed the pinned girl’s hair to hold her head up, and drove her metal studded fist into the back of the white college girl’s skull at the nape of her neck, making a vegetable of her. The blow to the top of the spine caused the most incredible spasm, and the bitch’s body kicked and leaped in a single bound, almost tossing off the black girl who had struck her.

Up on the launch pad, Tammie felt a surge of fear as her bike was wheeled toward the launching ramp. The bikes were lined up in pairs, and she was in the third row. She was just getting used to the feel of the thick post thrust deep into her colon, but it was a whole new feeling when the bike was moved.

Now that the motor was started, there was a constant vibration of the shaft inside her colon, and it made her feel more than ever that she had to shit it out, which was impossible, as long as she was standing on the bike, with her cunt ring chained to the frame. The bike was now part of her.

When all of the bikes were lined up and their motors started, the first two were pushed down the ramp. The screaming riders had little experience with motorcycles, and they got too close to each other. The second pair were on their way when the first t
wo brushed against each other, and one of the riders fell.

The second pair managed to veer around the fallen bike and rider, when without warning Tammie felt herself being launched. She could not believe the rapid acceleration as the motor roared and gravity pulled her and the bike downward. The steel wheel in front did not handle like a rubber tire.

Sparks flew, and the handlebars felt rigid, vibrating right up to her shoulders. She stood as high as she could on the bike, but the vibration of the steel shaft inside her was terrible. Suddenly she was much too close to the fallen biker. She leaned to the right as far as she could, but she was too late.

She grimaced and fought to hold control as the steel front wheel of her bike passed over the neck of the screaming girl, cleanly severing her head. Tammie looked back in horror and saw the decapitated nude female body jerk as the neck stump spewed triple jets of crimson blood. The detached head rolled down the bank after her.

There were too many bikes, pedestrians and obstacles in this decadent Thunderdrome. The whole thing was a series of fatal accidents waiting to happen. This was not a good day for the girls, but the audience was having a ball, screaming encouragement to the desperate women in the arena.

Tammie was stunned at the horror she was forced to endure. She had just accidentally killed a girl She was shaking uncontrollably. Her body was not taking this well, but she was somehow keeping her head under control. This whole Thunderdrome nightmare was really sickening, but she knew there was much worse ahead for her.

She knew there was little chance she would live to see the end of this bizarrely violent sex show, but she had a strong will to live which kept her hopes alive. She knew deep down that she would do anything to survive the horrors of this incredible odyssey. That would be her only chance for survival.

She gunned the engine, and the motorcycle responded with a burst of speed. Tammie had learned to ride her boyfriend’s motorbike when she was sixteen, and was surprised that it was not coming back to her. Standing on a vibrating post that ran up inside her was not exactly like sitting on a padded seat, but she was able to manage.

She swooped up near the top of the wall, then swung around and ran down through a pack of runners, skaters and cyclists. She cut behind one of the cunt-leashed runners, and ran over the trailing leash. She felt the jerk as the leather thong came tight. The girl flipped high in the air, screaming.

Tammie turned in time to see her hit the concrete. Her arms and breasts were scraped, but as she struggled back to her feet it was clear that the real hurt was inside. Tammie realized that the jolt to her inner sex organs must have been tremendous, as painful as anything could be for a woman.

She also realized that she didn’t particularly care, because as she had approached the girl had half turned, and had actually swung her baton at her. She gunned the engine, and roared up the side of the bowl, following another biker that had cut in front of her. As the other bike approached the apex of her turn, the rider was suddenly hit in the shoulder by a bullet.

The struck girl twisted with the stunning blow, and lost control of her bike. Tammie watched in amazement as the bike tripped, and the nude rider flew forward, ripping the metal ring out of her pubic mound, and there was a “pop” of the ball emerging from her rectum as she soared in a spread-eagle position off the bike’s steel seat post.

The hapless bitch was impaled on several of the long horizontal spikes that lined the wall of the Thunderdrome. In less than three seconds the beautiful young co-ed had been turned into a piece of dead meat. Tammie pissed uncontrollably onto her bike as she came to the top of her arc.

The wide eyes of the girl she had killed stared in blank horror as Tammie rode by her. The end of a steel spike stood out of her gaping mouth like a bloodied pointed tongue. Her wrecked bike slid down the steep slope of the bowl, the engine still revved up, as the carcass of the naked girl hung, grotesquely displayed where it had landed on the spikes.

Tammie almost barfed when a spotlight caught the impaled girl, caught in the midst of her flight on the impaling spikes which had driven right through her. This was more than a warning. The bitch had been killed because she had not aggressively tried to kill one of the others.

She realized that it was time to see if she had what it took. Was she going to be able to kill another girl? She knew now that her survival depended on it, and her time was quickly running out. She cruised the upper level of the Thunderdrome, like a hawk, soaring as it sought out its prey.

She saw what she was looking for. One of the white roller blade skaters was down. The hapless bitch had just had her leg broken by two of the leash girls with their clubs, and they were brutally and mercilessly hammering her arms and her rib cage. They were smashing their clubs into the vulnerable bones, with devastating effect.

As Tammie turned her bike to dive down the slope toward them, one of them smashed the downed girl’s face, and then the two attackers looked up with horrified faces, seeking another victim in order to reduce the odds they would lose. They instead spotted the killer-bike racing toward them almost at the same time, and both turned to run.

Closing fast, Tammie selected her victim and aimed the steel front wheel of her machine straight at the seam of the nude’s buttocks. The wheel ran onto the trailing leash, and the girl pitched forward as the leash jolted on her uterus.

In an instant, with her target flying forward as if in a dive, the spinning steel wheel hit her, cutting deeply into her naked crotch like a circular saw blade. The wheel rapidly rolled up the fallen girl’s spine, crushing the vertebrae, and as it completed it’s murderous run, the steel wheel split her skull in two.

Tammie felt the split bitch’s warm blood splashing on her legs as she rode over her, and because of it, she felt a sudden rush of power. She could do it! Another girl dived out of her way just an instant too late, and the wheel took off the pretty black roller blade skater’s left skate, along with the foot strapped into it.

She felt the rush of power surge as she raced up the wall of the bowl, and with a sudden impulse, ran her front wheel into the back tire of a bike above her. She flinched as she saw the rider skid her bike into the long wall-spikes, which impaled her so that she hung, her anus still gripping the steel seat-shaft of the BMW.

Tammie saw a girl on a BMW take a desperate run at one of the jumps. When the bike was in the air, Tammie knew the girl was too upright on the bar up her ass, and would have trouble on the landing. As she guessed, the girl came down hard, bending her knees and sitting far too deep on the post,

The force of the hard landing drove the shaft through the end of her colon and deep into the tight pack of her soft intestines and organs. Completely out of control, the bike slammed through three other girls before it raced up the side of the bowl and crashed directly into the spiked wall, impaling the rider on the vicious spikes.

Although she was sickened at the sight, Tammie knew she could take the jump successfully, and made a run at it. She saw one of the cyclists moving into line with her landing, and she adjusted her course to take out the unwary girl. It was kill or be killed in this outrageously inhuman sport.

She had no intentions of being on the low side of that simplistic equation. Her only reality at this moment was one of desperate survival, possible only if she became a ruthless killer. That was now entirely her intention. She was not going to end up like raw meat on the floor of this incredible hell.

There was no time for even a tinge of horror. She cursed the cunt chain that kept her from getting any higher on the bike, but leaned far forward from the waist as she hit the ramp to move the center of gravity forward. The bike was thrust up hard then was launched four feet above the floor and still rising.

The spinning steel wheel caught the bicycle rider in the chest between her big tits, crushing her sternum, and cut it down through her belly as she was thrown backwards, split wide open like a fresh shrimp. Tammie had to fight to keep control of the bike as it hit the ground with the girl and the mountain bike beneath her.

She revved the engine, and with the front wheel lifted and the rear wheel spinning, the motor bike leapt forward out of the mess it had made, with blood spraying from the rear tire. She felt a surge of her own power as she felt the increased vibration of the shaft in her colon. She was mastering this bike, and had become a formidable cunt-killing machine.


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