Jem's Bad Week (Part 5) by Kkatman

Jem's Bad Week (Part 5)

#6 of The Jem Snippets

The Jem Snippets

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"The Jem Snippets" is a cooperative set of stories written by myself (Kkatman) and Portentous1975.

Set in a futuristic boot-camp, these stories chronicle the ongoing sufferings of Jem's breasts. The original snippets were very short and deliciously cruel bits written by Portentous1975. With his permission, I continued the tales in a slightly more story-like format, with snippet-like mini-chapters. I hope to post these in that format. The project is ongoing.

Fair warning and disclaimer: these stories are wicked, and the hurt that befalls Jem's breasts is brutal. Due to fantastical sci-fi elements, there is no blood or real damage. Likewise, this story involves no yiffing. Remember: this is fantasy, not reality. And in fantasy, sexual torture is hot!

Enjoy!

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Jem lay on her bunk, staring at the bunk above her, trying to focus on it rather than her boobs. Her back was arched, her beautiful and tortured breasts thrust upwards because her arms were still bound behind her. Nobody had bothered to untie them when they pulled her off the post and dragged her back to the barracks. She was naked, but she wouldn't have been able to bare the touch of a shirt, much less the bunk's blanket. Her pillow was soaked from her tears.

For the longest time, she couldn't even see the bunk above her. Her vision was blurred by agony and tears to the point of near blindness for hours after the shooting stopped. As she blinked her tears away again, part of her mind insisted on replaying how wrong her math had been. One target, two tits, twenty rounds a magazine... one magazine per breast per soldier... and at the end of each soldier's turn, her breasts had been hit by four shots from a .50 sniper rifle. Two to each of her brutally tortured boobs, always right on the nipples with unerring accuracy.

She stifled a cry.

Pain surged through her heavy orbs with each breath. A legion of agonies, layers upon layers of hurt, lay murmuring within each of her mounds, waiting for the slightest movement to stir them into full rage. Every time the cool night wind blew through her titfur from the open barracks window it felt like someone was pouring burning napalm over her breasts.

When her team-mates had retired to the barracks, she had overheard some of them grumbling that she had cost them their leave. But at least no one was saying she hadn't been punished enough. At least, not where she could hear them. However, when first strong gust of wind had caused her to yelp, her teammates were quick to inform her that for the sake of her honkers, she'd best not disturb their sleep again. Jem took the threat to heart and fought to suffer as quietly as she could through the rest of the night.

Reveille was just two hours away. Her pain suppressors would reactivate then. She prayed there wouldn't be another gust until morning. But even as she prayed it, a strong wind rattled the barracks windows, blowing in and setting her breasts on FIRE! Jem clinched her eyes tight and bit down on her scream, hoping nobody woke up from it.

The lights came on in the barracks and a shrill whistle blew. "Alright, you worthless dung-lickers! Rise and shine!" The sergeant's voice cut through everyone's sleep, sending her teammates scrambling out of bed. "I thought we'd start out the day with a run around the base before reveille! You have ten minutes to get dressed and join me outside!"

Jem's ears flattened in terror. She couldn't bare just the touch of a shirt... the mere thought of her pain-soaked orbs bouncing, rubbing against the inside of her uniform, was enough to make her start to sob.

"You too, Private Barmfager!" the sergeant barked. "What, are you _crying_?" He made his way over to her bunk, the other members of the squad turning to watch. "Does little Jem have a boo-boo? Do you want me to cuddle you? Do you want your mommy? GET OUT OF THAT BUNK!"

Jem jerked upright immediately, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. The next instant she was hit by crippling pain as her heavy breasts swung from the sudden action. She slid off the bed, falling first to her knees then planting her face against the floor as she screamed into the floorboards. Her nipples pressed against the floor, searing pain tearing through them.

"Oh fucking hell in a hovercart!" She felt the sergeant tug at her, then yank against the ropes binding her arms. The ropes came free with embarrassing ease. "There, now get moving!"

Jem's mind reeled, fighting back against the agony and trying get a hold on her situation. She needed to stand. First, she had to sit up. Baby steps, although she knew she didn't have time for them. "m-m-My pain s-suppressors..." The little bob of her breasts when she sat up turned the rest of her sentence into a tortured feminine gasp. She couldn't do this! Forget coming in last, she wouldn't be able to finish the lap! She doubted she would even be able to start!

"Ah yes, your pain suppressors. If you finish last this time, they'll be kept shut off for a _week_! So you better hustle!" As if reading her mind, he added, "And you don't even want to know what happens if you _don't_ finish and make it to reveille on time!"

"Sir, yes sir." Jem managed, and then sat there sucking in heavy, labored breaths, listening to the sergeant's footsteps as they strode back across the barracks.

"Did I tell you all to stand around gawking?! YOU HAVE SIX MINUTES!"