Chapter 7

Ronnie was on her knees, her feet folded under her naked rump, both hands on the barrel of the machine gun assigned to her as she tried to pull the whole thing into her cunt. She gasped in wanton need, so aroused from the psychic experience of Tia's sexual annihilation that she could barely breathe.

"Looks like you're next, girlie," she heard Buck say to the dark-haired bosomy girl whose legs straddled his torso.

"No..." Ronnie gasped. "No ... please ... Need a camera! Over here ... now! Do me next!"

"Okay, I'm here, girlie," one of the men holding a Tri-D recorder told her. "What do you want?"

"I can't..." Ronnie gasped. "I can't reach ... the ... the friggin' trigger!" She gasped again and tried to pull the machine gun even deeper up inside her. Blood oozed from her pussy lips from the effort she exerted.

"Shit!" the man said excitedly. "Lemme get this on camera!" He tightened the view, increasing the Hi-Res of what he was recording, and zoomed in, getting the entirety of Ronnie's naked body, lengthwise, as she savagely fucked herself with that black machine gun.

"Trigger..." she gasped. "Pull ... the trigger!" The cameraman just stared at her, still not comprehending what she wanted.

"Shoot her, fuckhead," Peter called out from behind him. "Reach down there and pull the fuckin' trigger!"

As astounded and aroused as he was, the cameraman still knew a good shot when he saw one, and this one, while incredibly erotic, could stand some improvement. "Okay, girl, arch your back and let your shoulders rest on the floor, okay?"

Ronnie relaxed her torso a bit, then shoved her hips up into the air. "Okay now ... shoot me!"

"Not yet, girl," the man informed her. "You want a good shot, right?"

She nodded, gasping with frustration and needing to be viciously murdered, right now!

"Now straighten your back out a bit," he said, getting her into the most exotic position he could think of. "We want the bullets to come out through your belly and into the bottom of your tits, okay?"

"Oh, shit!" Ronnie exclaimed, nearly having an orgasm from just visualizing what he'd said. She stared down at her belly and could actually see the barrel pressing up against her belly from inside her cunt! "Out of my belly and into my tits! Okay!"

Then she was in position and a calloused male hand was grasping the stock of the machine gun. A finger pressed the trigger and the gun stuttered, the sound muffled inside her exploding pussy as her belly erupted, spewing blood, guts and bullets all over the sexy brunette as she lay on the floor. The bottom of her left breast exploded in blood as bullets traveled from her belly to her breasts, then out through the top, splashing blood and tit flesh all over Ronnie's face and neck.

The cameraman twisted the machine gun to aim at Ronnie's other breast, causing the girl to jerk as new runnels of destruction punched through her belly. Then her other breast was bouncing and exploding as more bullets punched through to shred her no longer nicely rounded tits.

Ronnie exploded in orgasm the instant the cameraman began firing, jerking her hips and screaming as she came, fascinated and overwhelmed by the destruction of one beautiful breast, then the other. She dropped her hips to the floor, only to discover that the machine gun was still firing, still erupting bullets into her body like a hard, flaming, steel cock, tearing through her belly and into her lungs, her heart ... Then the gun was empty, its eruption of steel sperm silenced.

Ronnie lay, still in the middle of her orgasm, unable to move though her body trembled in ecstasy. She knew she was dying – was probably already dead – her heart and lungs destroyed beyond any body sculpture's ability to repair, but she didn't care. She'd experienced the ultimate in sexual annihilation, just like Tia, whom she would soon join in death.

She wondered what it would be like on the other side... 'Is there an 'other' side?' She only thought about it for a second, then she was there.

The cameraman pulled the empty machine gun out of Ronnie's bleeding cunt. Half-cooked, bloody flesh was baked onto the flash suppressor and blood flowed freely from her ruined pussy now that nothing blocked the entrance.

A second later, the entrance was blocked again, though. This time by a hard, pulsing shaft as the cameraman rammed his cock up inside the dead, still quivering brunette. She had been the most erotic, sensual subject he'd ever had the pleasure of recording, and he had to have his cock in her for a least a few minutes, even if it was simply to acknowledge and worship her magnificent sacrifice.

His cock spurted for a full minute, succumbing to the superior power of Ronnie's dead cunt. When he finally pulled out, he could hear the other cameraman operating the Tri-D recorder to capture that one final image.

His blood-soaked, cum slickened cock popped out, followed by a flowing, thick mass of blood and cum that spilled down Ronnie's crack and onto the mat. The cameraman held the shot until the flow became a trickle. Ronnie's corpse jerked convulsively, causing a sudden spurt of fluids, which was also captured by the recorder.

There was only one more thing to do, to complete Ronnie's sexual destruction. Shoving another clip into the machine gun he'd just pulled out of Ronnie's cunt, the cameraman stood up, staggering to his feet, and aimed the weapon between the girl's legs. Glancing over to make certain the other cameraman was recording, he pressed the trigger. The sound was deafening, hammering against everyone's ears even as bullets exploded from the barrel of the machine gun and splashed into Ronnie's dead cunt, forever destroying any semblance of sexual beauty in her pussy and hips.

"Damn!" Peter gasped, on his knees as he watched the destruction of Buck's sexy wife. "That is worth a million fuckin' credits!" Then he looked around the room to find that everyone, including the two supposedly dead blondes, had been watching, mesmerized by Ronnie's performance.

"Who we got left?" he asked. The blood-spackled blondes didn't move, of course. They were dead. Right? The pink-haired girl with blood trickling down her leg from the earlier ricochet off the ceiling from Ronnie's machine gun and the bouncy boobed brunette still sitting astride Buck was it.

"We're done recording," Peter informed his crew. "You guys wanna fuck something, use one of the dead blondes or one of these two. Kill 'em if you want – I don't care. Nothing can beat what we already got." Then he left to find the showers and raid Buck's fridge for a beer.

Trish looked down at Buck, her eyes wide, her breath uneven, her pulse pounding, which Buck could feel right through his hands tightly gripping her thighs. "You still wanna kill me?" she asked, hoping he was still interested after that amazing performance that she couldn't hope to outshine. Nobody she'd ever seen die had performed with such overpowering eroticism.

"I just lost my wife," Buck growled. "Of course I want to kill you!"

Smiling and hopeful, Tresia began moving up and down on Buck's still raging hard-on. Leaning forward and placing her hands on his hairy chest, she dropped her head and let her hair brush against Buck's face. "If you keep me, I'll do my best to help you get over her," she quietly promised. She was more vocal about wanting to live now that her owner, Peter, had left.

"Peter wants you dead, doesn't he?" Buck asked, thinking about possibilities and circumstances. "He wants you both killed."