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.
Feature Writer: Danté
Feature Title: THUNDERDROME DEATH-RIDERS 1
Edited & Extended: Regis
Published: 13.02.2025
Synopsis: Two young college freshmen are invited to take a bus to a free weekend party of what is likely to be all sex and drugs. Instead, the entire busload becomes the guests of a group of wealthy sportsmen who have devised an incredible new sport featuring naked young ladies strapped to incredible machines, originally Harleys, on which they have limited control, that are designed for mayhem and death. The intent is that the naked young ladies be involved in limb-severing, at the very least, accidents. Things get interesting and dangerous for them quickly.
Thunderdrome Death-Riders 1
The college cheerleaders’ high kicks at this private recruiting session were higher and bolder than either of these novice small-town girls had ever guessed possible. Tammie thought she saw a flash of pink between the girls’ legs as the gorgeous groins were exposed in a flash right before them. Had she seen a cuntlip?
This was more daring than they thought girls could ever be. They had front-row seats at the college freshman pep rally, and they immediately decided to try out for the cheerleader squad. They were both enthralled by the performance of the sophomore and senior cheerleading team, doing such precise and daring moves so expertly choreographed for them.
The two freshmen coeds were excited with the daring and in-your-face antics of the high-energy cheerleaders. What they were seeing was so much better and spellbinding than the basic stuff they had done when they were in their school corp., waving palm palms and kicking their legs almost in unison (or not).
They had screamed those silly cheers their teacher had taught them. They had been so amature compared to these outstanding and well-trained sexy college athletes. This was real college cheerleading, and today’s session was designed to get the gymnasium full of freshmen all worked up.
That had to be why a couple of the athletic girls had momentarily flashed cunt. They were sure that was what they had seen, although it had been for such a brief moment that they couldn’t be sure. They looked at each other, the look being code for confirmation of what had just happened.
Tammie and Wendy had gone all the way through junior high and high school as best friends, both coming from neighboring towns too small to have anything but an elementary school, and now they were starting their college careers together, as roommates, and had even registered in the same classes.
They were bonded as only girls who have come so far together can be and had sworn their friendship was so solid they would die for each other. They were the closest of friends. They even dated together, to ensure neither of them got into trouble, and to cement things, they had given up their cherries the same night.
They each looked out for the other, and as graduating high school students, had agreed to stay together right through college. That was the reason they enrolled in the same classes, so they could be together the whole way through college, planning to work at the same place. The two close friends were inseparable.
Now they were in college, on their very first day, and were away from home for the first time. They had lived in tiny Ohio Valley farming communities, the daughters of merchants, and had lived idyllic protected lives. It was only because they were on a date with rich guys, one driving his father’s convertible, that they’d allowed the two boys to fuck them.
Now that they were free of direct control by their parents and the prying eyes of neighbors, they felt an urge to break other boundaries of behavior, to live the lives they saw on television and in movies. They were truly free and could do whatever they wanted, with whoever they wanted any time they wanted.
The girls were anxious to experience the kind of wild parties they both knew happened at colleges and to have access to the virile young men they saw all around them. Now that they had finally broken away from home, there were no restraints to keep them in line, and the long-time friends pledged to make the most of their newfound freedom.
The chance to get involved in wild college parties came sooner than they thought possible. At the frosh orientation fair in the Student Center Gymnasium, the tight group of exceptional cheerleaders entertained doing their incredible acrobatic dance routines, to the admiring stares of the young men and women who had never seen such a high energy and overtly sexual performance close up.
The boys were particularly impressed at the tiny halters that mashed the large full breasts of the dancers as they turned, twisted and bent forward their shapely torsos, and the slender band of material through their groins that scarcely covered their privates when they did the splits and high kicks.
Tammie was amazed to see inner vagina lips momentarily slip out from under the inadequate cover from what, in their eyes, was no more than crotch floss. At the peak of the performance, one cheerleader appeared nearly nude, wearing only the briefest red G-string and white spike-heeled boots.
She was pulling a small rubber-tired sulky, ridden by another cheerleader who was also topless. Nipple rings held slender reigns that went up to a leather headpiece, which was complete with blinders. The head cover also contained a metal bit in the mouth of the girl playing the horse.
The reins were used to guide her around the gymnasium. The girl riding the cart held a riding crop, which she used as a whip across the exposed ass to encourage her human horse forward, raising visible welts. They performed to the cheering of the young novice audience of male and female freshmen.
Most of their audience had never before seen such a display of raw sexuality, pure BDSM. Bare tits were legal in bars, even in small towns, but were not expected to be seen at a college event. Some small-town bars even had late-night nude sex shows, where young men took turns fucking whores on top of the bar, but only the boys had ever attended those.
When the cheerleaders finished their routine they moved among the crowd, giving away free tickets to the next football game. Both Tammie and Wendy received a ticket, and they were excited at the prospect of meeting football players until they saw on the tickets that it was an away game, to be played in Chicago.
The free tickets were for the girls, and the guys had to buy their own. Noticing all the gorgeous girls that were going, selling to the guys would not be a problem. Tammie and Wendy didn’t have in their limited budget money to get to Chicago, or to stay over, which would be necessary because of the distance.
When all of the tickets had been distributed, the head cheerleader announced there would be a free bus and accommodation for the girls, so all they’d have to buy was their meals. The game was on a Saturday afternoon, and the bus would leave Saturday morning and return Sunday, so they would not have to miss any classes.
It was perfect, since they had not attended any classes yet, and had yet to receive their first homework assignment. The two small-town girls were excited at the chance. The only other announcement was even better news: there would be a big party after the game that would likely go on all night, and they’d get to meet all the players from both teams.
When they heard that, the two young freshman girls were definitely in. They were going to meet football players and party with them and get to dance with them and everything. It was exciting, and they decided that if they were lucky enough to be asked to put out by a football player, they would do it.
At home, protection was not only unnecessary, because girls in small towns had little opportunity to engage in sexual activity unless parents were involved, but was impossible to obtain without their religious parents finding out. As soon as they arrived at the college they both went on the pill and carried condoms in their purses, just in case they got lucky.
They had been away from home less than two weeks because they had come to the campus early, and now their big chance to do a pole dance on the flesh poles of athletes had already arrived. They were going to show these guys they had no inhibitions and were determined to have the time of their lives being wicked if it killed them. That was, of course, just a figure of speech.
666
Harley Davidson dealer Joe Gobi had been taking in trades for a couple of years and had also bought up old 1200 Harleys from all over the state. He had even bought up total junkers that had not run for years. He said he needed them for parts. Nobody knew how many he had obtained, but it was a lot.
He had at around the same time bought a big abandoned factory building, and some believed he had collected nearly 100 of the classic bikes. These machines were the foundation of the nation’s largest The powerful old motorcycles were completely disassembled, including their engines, and then they were rebuilt into remarkable machines of his design.
What he created had little resemblance to the famous originals. The dealer took his inspiration from the monstrous fantasy machines in the painting on the cover of Heavy Metal Software quarterly, depicting nude women strapped belly-down to huge cycles, anchored by rings piercing their bodies.
The working design the Harley dealer came up with was to accommodate a female rider, nude, lying belly down on the machine, as in the painting on the cover of the magazine that gave him his inspiration. The fuel tank was moved to the left side of the bike, and another was added to the right side, making the vehicle much wider.
The motor was rotated so that the fat two 4-stroke cylinders lay in a horizontal position close to the ground, and the frames of the big machines were rebuilt, cut down to allow the naked rider to lie on her belly on a thin leather-covered pad on top of the powerful motor. This radical variation was very low contour.
The pad was sloped up toward the rear, so that it would thrust the nude girl’s buttocks into the air, and was so lightly padded that it would give the rider’s internal organs substantial and continuous vibration as the engine roared. She would have the feel of the bike and know she was on a powerful steed that was also a very dangerous machine.
This configuration gave the two-wheeled vehicles he built a very low profile, with a considerably lowered centre of gravity, making them much more stable to ride than the famous bikes they had been built from. With this remarkably low configuration, they were also much more difficult to manoeuvre.
This new version was designed exclusively for power and speed, leaving aside all concerns for the safety of the naked female rider or of anybody who got in her way. The purpose of the extraordinary design was to make spectacular fatal accidents not only a possibility but also probable.
These converted Harleys were specifically built to be monstrous killing machines for an outrageous new human and equipment demolition sport. The intent was that the participants, naked girls, would be demolished, as would the bikes, in the horrendous accidents they were designed to create.
The handlebars were gone, deemed to be unnecessary. Broad fenders were manufactured to cover most of the large wide wheels, and extensions on the front fender above the axles had handle grips primarily to provide a place for the hands of the rider. One grip was the normal throttle; the other was a turbo drive control that kicked in a fuel mixture blower and oxygen, providing a sudden burst of acceleration.
There were no brakes, for with the intended purpose of these incredible machines, there would be no need for stopping. These were exclusively going machines, and with the low-slung dual gas tanks, the large 4-stroke engines would be able to operate at full throttle for nearly an hour running at full speed.
An hour was deemed to be more than enough time for the cycle to crash, with enough surplus fuel to ensure a spectacular explosion and burst of flame engulfing the nude female rider strapped to the top of the bike, and whoever she hit. This was a true killing machine and was designed for just a single use. Neither it nor its rider would survive a single ride.
Special remote-control systems were built to control both the steering and the throttle from a safe distance. A few of these incredible vehicles were also fitted with nitrous oxide injectors, to provide an obscene level of rapid and unexpected acceleration. These were controlled only by the remote system and were out of the hands of the rider.
When a rider showed reluctance to participate while on the road, the machines could be driven entirely by a controller following her at a safe distance. In the arena, the remote could be controlled from the sidelines. The designers had thought of everything, and their creations were truly fearsome machines.
These highly altered bikes were also made to be much more dangerous to ride: the exhaust pipes were designed to continually build heat, with the capability of becoming red hot, and they were laid along the outside of the twin low-slung gas tanks. The tanks had been ground down to be paper-thin in places, to ensure they could be easily punctured.
When these highly altered vehicles were cornering, the fuel tanks were positioned to scrape the pavement, generating a spectacular shower of sparks while wearing at the tank’s thin walls. In short, these highly altered motorcycles were guaranteed to serve as deathtraps for the riders, designed for self-destruction, and were capable of producing an outstanding level of mayhem.
These incredible competition machines were designed for the excitement that comes with extreme danger, not safety. A billionaire financier who shared a common interest with the Harley dealer had commissioned them. Both men were deeply involved in a secret private club.
Members of this Club loved speed and danger, but had tired of the stock car circuit where imposed safety measures had reduced spectacular crashes and made them much too survivable to hold the interest of spectators. These people wanted the thrill of witnessing horrendous accidents, and the rush of seeing highly visible fatalities.
They were the ones who had altered the demolition derby rules and had re-designed the vehicles to put an open compartment at the front, where the collisions occurred, to carry at first nearly nude and then completely nude female thrill-seekers, who were regularly killed in ‘freak’ accidents. Only the most aggressive clubs converted, and. they did exceedingly well.
The Club members had the power to ensure the participants in their new motorcycle sport were killed in the brutal events they had devised, and they had built a facility, an arena in which their members could witness their victims of choice, fit and nude young women, experiencing violent deaths.
This group was comprised of very wealthy professionals and businessmen who had no qualms about enjoying watching the violent deaths of fit young men, but as heterosexuals, they got twice the satisfaction from witnessing naked young women being violently and rapidly, irrevocably disassembled. It was the very purpose of their arena sport.
Most of the members were enormously wealthy and influential, while others were admitted to the group because of their ability or potential to produce the hardware required for the club’s activities. Whatever their circumstances, the members of the club all had something substantial to contribute, and all of them did so on a regular basis, allowing them to grow the practice of their thrilling but costly and highly secret death sport.
THE END OF CHAPTER ONE