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 11
Edited & Extended: Regis
Published: 23.02.2025
Author’s Notes: This is a work of fiction, containing both graphic sexual descriptions and language. If you are a minor or if this is illegal in your area you must leave this page immediately. Under the Berne Convention, this work is copyrighted with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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 11
Wendy wondered if, in the heat of battle, she would be able to be sure which of the BMW girls was Tammie. She realized it didn’t much matter, but it would be a shame for her to unintentionally kill her roommate and friend. Sometimes, regardless, that was just how things worked out.
She had watched Tammie run her steel-wheeled motorcycle purposefully into a rollerblade skater and had seen her run down the cunt-leash runner, splitting her right up the back, so she knew her friend was fully engaged in the murderous mayhem these evil people required of them.
When push came to shove, she was never one to back away from a challenge. The question yet to be answered in Wendy’s mind was if she would also be capable of the same kind of desperate behavior. Now that she and her machine were rolling, she was going to find out quickly.
There were few options available to her. She was running at more than sixty miles an hour around the outside of the big bowl, sizing up the action. She ran right into some flying cum from an extreme violence fan who was standing at the edge of the audience space, rapidly ejaculating.
The warm male cream hit her on her left eye and nose, sliding down her face over her upper lip. It temporarily blinded the eye, but by batting it she got it to move over her cheek, and she was able to see again. The sight was everything she wanted to steer a good path into the crowd of naked cunts below.
Her moth inadvertently opened, and the semen found its way in. Its taste reminded her this had all started as a chance to be part of a suck and fuck party, with her and her friend perusing the chance to collect semen. It occurred to her that life was all about cum, and its power over females. Shit!
Wendy felt she was hunting like a wolf, and the anxiety level in her gut was making her brain pound. What was spinning through her mind was the nagging fear of the snipers. Riding along the upper rim of the Thunderdrome, she was flying past the spike-impaled bodies of the girls who had been hesitant to kill.
As she rounded one end of the Thunderdrome she saw ahead of her a big Harley chasing a screaming girl on a BMW. The girl standing on the smaller motorbike was chased up the wall and driven right up into the spikes, and her crash onto them was spectacular.
The Harley turned in time but hit the ice and skidded, sliding over onto its side. When it hit the far side of the ice it flipped back onto its wheels, still out of control. A shower of sparks flew out from the low-slung gas tanks as they rocked from side to side, and suddenly the tanks exploded.
The big bike’s rider was blown apart in the middle, her tongue and vagina anchors were ripped out of her meat, and the three separate parts of the nude cunt’s split carcass cartwheeled high in the air. Her meat was aflame, burning brightly as it cooked while flying through the air.
Wendy rode right under the parted hips and legs, and barely missed the upper part. She was sprayed with blood jetting out of the ripped tongue and tits. She was now christened into the extreme violence that dominated the incredible bitch-butchering sport in the amazing Thunderdrome.
Suddenly a sharp pain burned her right buttock. What could have hit her? It was not the feeling of a piece of shrapnel from an exploding bike, and none had blown up near her. Her eyes roamed quickly to the upper corners of the arena, and her eyes locked on one of the marksmen. His gun was levelled at her! She had been shot by that prick!
She couldn’t believe the marksman had missed. Every other girl she had seen them shoot had either been creatively disabled or had been killed outright. It was hard to believe that he had intentionally nicked her bum, cutting a burning grove across her otherwise flawless bum skin. It had to be a warning shot.
She gunned the engine, to show them her intent to kill, as she was required to do. Still questioning her ability to kill another young woman, she gritted her teeth and determined she was going to do it. She screamed a harsh throat-scream around her stretched tongue, and looked for a likely target.
The opportunity presented itself immediately. A cunt-leash girl was scrambling up the incline at the middle of the Thunderdrome directly in front of her, chased by a black rollerblade skater who had got hold of the white girl’s club. Wendy leaned hard. The black girl turned in surprise as the bike thundered toward her.
Without hesitation, Wendy struck the naked nigger dead center, between her spread legs. The handle grips hit the black girl’s knees, crushing them, and Wendy heard the bitch’s raging scream as her leather helmet struck the skater’s clean-shaven cunt with a direct blow.
The naked black, thrown backwards, tumbled in front of the speeding bike, and the large front wheel rode over her. Wendy felt the bike jar as it split the naked nigger cunt’s groin and belly, causing her entrails to be driven out of her abdominal cavity. In that instant, she was gutted.
Crushed by the big bike, the bitch split wide open, and caused Wendy to lose control of her roaring mount. The bike’s front end dipped, and sparks flew from the dragging right tank. With a gutsy move, Wendy gunned the engine, and suddenly the low bike was upright and hurling down into the middle of the bowl.
A ramp lay directly in front of her, and she had no time to adjust her course. Suddenly she was thrust upward as the wheels hit the ramp at an angle, and the big Harley was airborne. The greatly modified machine hit a mountain bike rider’s head on and crashed down on top of her so that the rider’s body broke its fall.
Knowing that the only way to keep control of the bike was to gun the powerful engine, Wendy revved it as the bike’s big wheels slammed the girl against the concrete, and the rear tyre ripped open the fallen girl’s belly open, spewing tangles of elongated guts out behind the big bike like a rooster-tail wake.
The big machine bolted forward, and it was all Wendy could do to turn it before it reached the top of the bowl and the awaiting wall of spikes. She made another run around the Thunderdrome, gaining speed, and she saw the girl on foot whose life she had saved moments before with the nigger kill.
The naked white bitch was still up on the rim of the bowl, quivering in stark terror. She planned to pass her by, but then she realized that if she didn’t take a serious run at the cunt, the snipers would likely put another bullet into her ass. It was not a matter of choice. She had none.
Wendy knew the girl was dead meat anyway because the snipers would take her out any minute for refusing to fully participate in the meaningless bitch battle below. She could go around again, and watch the snipers take the girl out, but they would just as likely put another bullet into her.
Wendy reflected that the lives of these young college girls, of which she was one, were not of much significance in the grand scheme of things, and with the extreme emotional strain she was being put through, she had little regard for any of these strangers. They were disposable cunts, and she was a disposer.
She had watched at least twenty killings in the past hour or so, and by now they all seemed to run together. With what was at stake she had little remorse for running down that black rollerblade skater or the girl on the mountain bike she had destroyed. With each one it was easier, and each one that died was one fewer that could kill her.
Wendy ran her big bike as close to the spikes as she dared, forcing the girl away from them. The naked teenager was having difficulty in her spike-heeled boots on the steep slope of the concrete designed for the rubber tyres of a speeding motorcycle. The girl hesitated, but at last moved away from the spikes.
At the last instant, Wendy swerved her powerful mechanical mount, just as the girl tried to dive out of the way, instead diving into Wendy’s new path, and she hit the flying and spread naked body of the pretty college girl in mid-air. It was a perfect hit, and the results were spectacular.
The girl bounced forward off the front fender, and then swung around, as she flew ahead of the speeding bike. When the bike hit her on the way down, it rushed between her spread legs and her cunt hit hard on the fender just in front of Wendy’s face, splitting wide open.
The girl was tossed into the air a second time, but this time the bitch was driven directly onto the long spikes. She hit so hard that she was impaled, and smashed flat against the wall, held by the base of the metal shafts. At that instant, Wendy had a different concern.
One of the mountain bikes had become caught up, along with its rider, in the front assembly of a BMW bike. The poor girl who had been riding the mountain was now suspended above the steel front wheel of the BMW, and with every bounce, her side dropped onto the upper surface of the wheel.
The bloody action was slowly seeing the nude cyclist in half at the waist. The girl riding the BMW was so horrified at what was happening aboard her bike that she was not watching what she was doing, and was heading up the side wall of the bowl, headed straight for the vicious killer spiked side wall.
Wendy saw her chance to score a double and headed across the BMW’s path. She set the throttle to maximum and aimed her heavy bike to clip the BMW’s rear wheel. That would be enough to send it sliding sideways into the long spikes. Her bike roared ahead and closed fast on the duo.
Even with her new conviction to do what she was doing, Wendy screamed in horror at what was about to happen. These girls were going to die within seconds anyway, but she was about to contribute to their deaths and to score a double credit for their dying. This was entirely beyond her ability to accept.
Suddenly and without warning her bike leapt ahead with incredible additional acceleration. It was as if the machine was possessed. One of the remote operators overhead had hit the nitro switch. Instead of hitting the rear wheel as she intended, she struck the much heavier steel front wheel, and the BMW slammed around against the lower side of her bike.
The spinning metal wheel slashed her arm and scraped deep gouges down her hip and leg. The BMW’s rider was thrown over Wendy, ripped off her cunt ring and landed upside down on the spikes, her back against the wall. Long ends of bloody spikes burst out through her naked front, through her belly and chest, as well as both her thighs.
Wendy fought hard to keep the big Harley from running against the deadly spikes, and the task was so difficult she barely missed them. She ran down the side of the Thunderdrome and swung back up to see what had happened. The BMW had slid more than 100 feet with the cyclist pinned beneath it.
She had left a trail of blood as inches of her meat had been peeled off. The bitch was laying on her back, her upper body pinned under the bike, and with her spread legs kicking in agony. Sobbing hysterically, Wendy ran her Harley at the girl’s deeply sliced waist and finished what the steel wheel of the BMW had started.
The lower half of the girl, completely severed at the waist, was hurled into the air, and landed on another Harley, with the cunt pressed in the face of the rider. Blinded, the rider swerved to the left, knowing the spikes were on her right. The bike hurled down into the middle of the bowl and slammed directly into a barricade. The machine exploded, and both the rider and another girl, soaked with gasoline, began to burn.
Tammie just missed being hit by the big Harley before it slammed into the barricade. She saw the face of the rider was covered with the crotch of the severed lower half of a nude girl, so she was not sure if it was her friend Wendy. She had spotted Wendy twice, which was amazing, because those Harley riders, with their tongues pulled out and spiked to the fender of their bikes, all looked alike.
In this endless nightmare of a cunt-killing spree it was impossible to keep track of the people. As this blood sport was designed, recognition of individuals was not important. The entire sport for the involuntary participants was all a matter of avoiding being killed, and killing the other girls before they could do it to you was the only meaningful strategy.
There was no order to the battle, and no rules to follow, other than self-preservation. One of Tammie’s breasts was split from the pounding by the batons, and several of her ribs were cracked. Both of her hips were severely braised and bleeding from punches with studded gloves.
She had managed to kill three of them, as well as four of the cunt leash girls on foot and two of the mountain bike riders. She had also taken out a Harley, for the amazing score of ten kills. She had grown up in a small town and had always played boys’ sports, boys’ ways.
It was only because of her proven toughness and aggressiveness that she had avoided date rape throughout school, and at college as well. That was also part of the reason she was so successful in this remarkable bizarre battle. She hated most other girls because the boys went after them and left her alone.
Her only close friend was Wendy, and there was nothing she would do to endanger that relationship. She hit the rear wheel of a mountain bike as a Harley hit the front wheel from the other side. The Bigger cycle hit with considerably more authority, and as bicycle flew above the Harley.
The blades on the BMW’s spinning front wheel sliced murderous gouges into the sloped naked back and buttocks of the Harley’s rider. Blood spurted from the carved back of the Harley rider as the big bike suddenly leapt forward with a roar, out of the control of the badly injured girl.
THE END OF CHAPTER ELEVEN