Jem's Bad Week (Part 6)
#7 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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The first warming rays of the sun washed over Jem, stirring her from the ocean of hurting she had been swimming in for she knew not how long. Jutting edges of gravel jabbed into her back and ass. Bits of rock and cinder were gnarled in her hair and tailfur. Her knockers were heavy, crushing weights of PAIN that drew more tears to her eyes as quickly as she blinked them away.
It took her a few minutes to remember where she was and how she got there...
Jem didn't make it out of the barracks in six minutes. Or ten. She pushed herself to get ready, but it just hurt too much. She tried to get up, but every movement sent such pain through her breasts, knocking the wind out of her, that she spent minutes gasping. Using the bunks for support, she finally forced herself to her feet, only nearly faint at the torturous blast of pain that tore through her chest. Jem collapsed back on her bed weakly; the rolling of her breasts made her bring her knuckles to her muzzle in a tortured scream!
Jem blinked back the tears to see the dark figures of Chase and Sharree, two of the squad's fastest runners, looming over her. The sergeant had sent them in after her. The two of them reached down for her, grasping her roughly and hauling her off the bed, ignoring her screams. Jem let them forcibly dress her, but couldn't control herself when they wrenched her fatigues across her breasts! Jem kicked and bucked and yowled as Chase and Sharree forced the rough army material to close across invulnerable breasts that each of them had poured two clips of bullets into mere hours ago.
Then they hauled out to join the rest.
She managed to stand with the rest of them, swaying slightly, only hearing two out of five words the sergeant was saying as she tried to draw on any reserves she had to face the run ahead. Twenty kilometers around the perimeter of the base. Two hours before reveille. She'd done the run before, showing up panting and exhausted for the raising of the flag while others had made it back with shower time to spare. It was insane to hope she could do it now; but with the abuse her breasts had taken in the last day and a half, it would take weeks for them to stop hurting naturally! She couldn't handle a full week without pain suppressors!
But standing was one thing, running entirely another. At the sound of the sergeant's whistle, Jem threw herself forward... but she made it less than five meters before the screaming pain in her tits, aggravated by every bounce and sway and rub, drove her to her knees! She planted her paws on the pavement in front of her and screamed and screamed at the ground!
Strong arms wrapped around her. Jem felt herself dragged up again. Chase and Sharree hoisted her up by her armpits, holding her arms about their shoulders, and began to run with her!
At first, Jem tried to run with them, but the pain was too much and soon they were carrying her. Chase and Sharree were natural runners, and almost immediately found a brisk pace. Jem's jugs echoed their each jogging step echoed with a agonizing bounce. Her boobies shifted up, nerves screaming like they were being coated in molten lava, nipples and areola raking upwards against the inside of her fatigues, feeling like they were being scrapped brutally against red-hot pumice. Her breasts jolted down, exploding in black pain that brought stars to her eyes, the surface of her boobs rubbing against material that seemed to have transformed from course cloth to hot, ground glass! Over and over and over and over, each time the hurting building until it was soon more than she could bear. And then more than that. She was more than dead weight; she was writhing, shrieking weight.
Jem couldn't fathom how many kilometers they ran with her, but it seemed like eternity. She wailed for them to stop, and, finally, long after her pleading had lots coherency, they did. Chase and Sharree were well behind everybody else, shrouded in the darkness of a building's shadow when they let go of her, allowing her to fall forward heavily onto her mountains of pain. As her breasts hit the gravel, the searing hurt in her breasts exploded! Jem let out a piercing shriek that echoed through the base and began flopping like a fish out of water, helpless in the grip of agony. It took several minutes for her to collapse weakly onto her back, gasping up at the stars as if seeking mercy from them.
And that was when Chase and Sharree lifted up their big, cleated military boots and began stomping ruthlessly on her jugs!...
Jem didn't know how long they kept smashing their heavy, spiked boots into her suffering breasts. Nor how long she had been laying her after they left. She had been lost in a deep, black ocean of agony.
Now, however, she knew that dawn had come. The sun was rising and reveille could be starting any minute. She had to try to make it back to the flagpole in time! There was no longer any chance of completing the course. But as bad as it would be for her now, it would be immeasurably worse if they had to come out and get her!
She pushed herself up to see where she was, her knockers smacking into each other within her fatigues, drowning her in a wave of pain. As it passed, she took in her surroundings with a sense of utter dread. Her squad mates had run with her for nearly eight kilometers. She was at the far end of the compound, easily five kilometers from the flagpole!
Jem fished around with one paw until she found a stick, then put it between her teeth. Something to bite down on. Summoning previously imagined reserves of strength and focusing every last drop of her willpower, Jem got up and threw herself back into that ocean of torture, running for the flagpole.
Jem made it almost three kilometers before the brass tones of reveille sounded across the base. They found her half and hour later collapsed against one of the transports in motor pool.