Jem's Bad Week (Part 12)
#13 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!
PS: The final line on this snippet is thanks to RoadkillUnleashed! Thanks!
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Jem could not see, hear, taste or smell. But she couldn't help but feel _everything_. Every bit of hurt that her breasts had been subjected to since the arboretum run two and a half days ago. Every mine. Every shot. Every lightning strike. Every blow. Every trip over the traffic spikes... Every single infliction of pain left it's still-ripe fruit of agony in her breasts! Each magnified and brought into inescapable clarity, then layered over and over in a rich symphony of the most magnificently gruesome torment.
But even in all that pain, her hyper-tactile awareness didn't let her miss anything else either. Though she couldn't see or hear it, she _felt_ when the door of the guest room opened. And though Jem's sense of time had been obliterated, her breastpain spiked with every heartbeat, and she knew that not enough heartbeats had passed for it to be dawn. In truth, merely an hour had passed.
Jem felt the gloved hands of two invaders unstrapping her and picking her up, hauling her out of the guest house like luggage. She bellowed fresh screams with each unspeakably hurtful swing of her dangling, hugely swollen breasts!
When her captures reached their destination, they didn't bother removing her headset to communicate, but rather took advantage of her condition. One planted her knees on the ground holding up her hogtied body from behind. A gloved finger traced "You missed one" across her boobs, the mere touch etching the words in hellish napalm.
Then the hands let go, and her body pitched forward, her tormented breasts coming down on a metal box covered in rough knobs. It was large enough that last week her lush breasts wouldn't have covered it's surface. But now, egregiously swollen, they smothered the box completely. At first, the rough knobs only signaled more pain in Jem's mind, but after the initial crushing tsunami of pain, her brain latched onto the horrifying truth.
It was a Jericho! An anti-tank mine capable of tearing through a modern hovertank with utterly destructive force!
OH GOD NO!
As Jem began to panic, a dirt-crusted metal weights, heavy and unyielding, pressed down on her back between her arms, pushing her down harder and harder onto the anti-tank mine, crushing her bulbous breasts and forcing them to utterly envelope the evil box. Even as greater agony exploded through her breasts, part of her mind translated the feelings on her back, telling her that they were using one of the base's backhoes to hold her down!
Jem also knew the Jericho wouldn't go off from her body weight. It was designed to be triggered by the energy fields of massive hover vehicles. Or...
...or by remote control.
Jem's panic soared! She could feel herself screaming. She wanted to cry out to her unknown assailants for pity, but the storm of super-augmented pain in her tits tore the words from her mind before she could string them together.
Jem didn't see the brilliant flash that burst out from all around her deformed tits, striking long shadows across the ground. She never heard the sharp crack like the devil's bullwhip that sounded across the base. But she felt...
...oh god...
...she very intimately and in every detail, felt the Jericho detonate with the power of a runaway freight train smashing into her tits. The impact lifted her with enough strength to push back the excavation machine several feet. Shockwaves of force rippled through the flesh of her breasts for a full minute after the detonation!
It was more pain than even Jem's wetware-augmented sensory perception could handle at once. As a result, she experienced the heartless, catastrophic explosion beneath her breasts not just the first time, but then again at double the intensity, and again at four times the last, and again...
Her assailants took her back, strapping her back onto the guest room bunk. To an outside observer who could not know how cruelly and cataclysmically her suffering had been increased, it looked like nothing had changed.
Unless, of course, that observer happened to notice the thumb tacks her late-night tormentors left under her nipples -- little parting kisses of deep, unbearable cruelty.