index


Message-ID: <48220asstr$1087089003@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com (Hungry)
User-Agent: Xnews/2.09.30
Subject: {ASSM} {ASS} NEWS FLASH {Hungry Guy} (MF MM/F Fpov Mdom Fsub celeb cow TV rape tort viol sad cannibal)
Lines: 378
Date: Sat, 12 Jun 2004 21:10:03 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

{ASS} NEWS FLASH {Hungry Guy} (MF MM/F Fpov Mdom Fsub celeb cow TV 
rape tort viol sad cannibal) 
BY:  Hungry Guy (hungry@stoolmail.zzn.com)

This story is a sequel to "Escape From Chattel Acres" by Not An a-
Mouse, a.k.a. A Non e-Mouse.  This story might also be considered a 
loose sequel to "Hungry for Monique."  

Paste this link into your browser to read "Escape From Chattel Acres" 
(you may have to remove line breaks inserted by your newsreader to 
copy the whole link):

http://groups.google.com/groups?q=alt.dolcett+%22escape+from+chattel+acres%22&hl=en&lr=&ie=UTF-8&newwindow=1&safe=off&selm=939D8C03Fanonymous%40209.122.229.53&rnum=1

That story includes various links to the original "Chattel Acres" so 
that you can read all the stories in sequence.


NEWS FLASH
By Hungry Guy

    20 MINUTES INTO THE FUTURE.

    The darkened dusty newsroom on the 40th floor of the Network 
XXIII building was bustling with activity.  Controllers sat at 
ancient grimy video monitors directing their reporters to their 
destinations, scenes for potential news stories that will generate 
instant ratings.  Max Headroom, the station's stuttering AI mascot, 
ranted on about the virtues of soft drinks between shows.

    Monique, one of Network 23's star reporters, was sitting with 
Theora discussing a rumor that Security Systems was using its latest 
nano-technology to spy on its competitors.  

    "Monique!" Murray called out from across the room, interrupting 
her discussion with Theora.  

    "What now?" Monique muttered quietly to Theora.

    "Get over here!" Murray shouted.  "You too, Edison!" looking over 
at Edison Carter, the station's other star and senior reporter.

    Edison was chatting with Bryce, the station's adolescent AI 
expert, through one of the decrepit monitors.

    Edison sauntered over to Murray.  "What's up, Murray?"

    "Yeah, Murray, what's up?" Monique asked as she joined the 
clutch.

    "I want you two to head up to Chicago and check out this story 
that we just got a tip on."

    "You got to be kidding, Murray!" Edison and Monique said 
together.  

    "I'm on my way to see Blank Reg about the latest persecutions of 
the blanks."

    "And what about Security Systems latest misconduct?  That's 
guaranteed ratings!"

    "This is bigger," Murray insisted as he handed them a copy of the 
newswire report.

    "By the way, Monique, how do you feel?" Murray asked.

    Monique knew Murray was asking about her experience last week 
while investigating a BDSM kink club in Chelsea.  She almost got 
murdered by a sadistic Dom who "bought" her at the club's weekly 
slave auction.  She would have been brutally tortured to death had 
her jock boyfriend not stormed into the place, practically bashing it 
to pieces moments before the sadist would have mutilated her genitals 
with a kitchen mixer.  "I'm still a little sore, Murray, but I'll be 
okay," she answered calmly.

    "Good, on your way then!" 

    ###

    Ten minutes later, they were in the air.  The deep red Network 
XXIII helicopter had left the city and was flying westward over 
Jersey toward Pennsylvania and western New York, ultimately to arrive 
in Illinois by evening.

    They were flying low and fast at about 1000' and the flight had 
been going uneventfully as Max made continuous wisecracks since they 
left.  

    Somewhere over monotonous farmland, Monique heard a rattling 
sound, almost like hail striking the helicopter. 

    "What was that noise?" Monique asked, somewhat in alarm.

    "What noise?" Edison asked.

    "N-N-Noise!  Music to my ears!" Max interjected.

    CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE!

    "That noise!" Monique insisted.

    "I heard it that time.  It sounded like hail or something.  It 
came from the rear."

    Edison leaned forward and spoke to the pilot, "Martinez!  Is 
there something wrong?"

    "I don't know," Martinez answered back.  "Hold on."

    "Maybe we should go back," Edison suggested.

    "Sure," Martinez agreed.

    As they chopper turned, Monique saw something below in the 
distance.  She leaned forward to Martinez and said, "Head over to 
that farm down there.  I want to see something."  

    "Sure," Martinez answered.

    As they approached the farm from a distance, it appeared to be an 
ordinary dairy farm with barns, a farmhouse, and all.  But when they 
got close, Monique grabbed Edison by the shoulder, pointed at the 
ground, and shouted, "Look at that!"

    What she was pointing at was a meadow.  The meadow was completely 
surrounded by chain-link fence topped with razor wire and set in a 
concrete base.  The meadow was also inhabited by about 80 naked 
women. 

    "Holy-holy c-c-cow, cow!" Max interjected.

    "Wait!" Monique shouted.  She pointed to a smaller paddock 
enclosed by a similar fence, "Look over there!" 

    Edison's jaw dropped.  He opened the sliding door and aimed the 
large telephoto camera at the impossible scene, then the infrared 
imaging camera.  As the chopper drew ever closer, Edison hefted his 
camera-gun at the scene, as did Monique with hers.

    Pulling his headphones on, Edison shouted, "Theora!  Are you 
getting this?  Go live now!"

    Monique heard Theora answer through her headphones, "You're live, 
Edison."

    Down below, a small group of naked women stood idly about in the 
fenced area.  However, one naked woman was running away from a small 
barn wielding a shotgun.  A second nude woman was also fumbling with 
another gun.  

    "Edison!" Martinez interrupted.  "We're losing oil pressure.  We 
got to get on the ground!  Now!"

    "Take us down over there, Martinez," Edison replied.

    At that moment, a group of men in white bloody smocks, also armed 
with shotguns, came running out of the barn.  One of them took aim at 
one of the armed women.  Then the other armed women aimed and blew 
his head off.  The other man then blew a hole through the woman's 
chest.  Then the remaining armed woman pumped the gun and blew his 
head off too.

    "What a war zone-zone!" Max commented.

    "Shut up, Max!  Not now!" Edison yelled into the monitor.

    Suddenly, Murray came on the channel, "Edison!  Monique!  What's 
going on?  The ratings are going through the roof!"

    "We're on to something big, Murray!" Edison answered back.  
"Something really bizarre!"

    "And grizzly!" Monique added.   

    Then Monique screamed in terror as the armed women hefted her 
shotgun, pointed it right at them, and fired.  The telephoto camera 
between them burst into pieces as Monique screamed.  

    As the helicopter approached the ground, Edison said to the 
pilot, "Put us down by that farmhouse."

    As the helicopter approached the ground, Theora spoke into their 
headsets, "The Metro Cops are on their way to your location now.  
They'll be there in 12 minutes."

    The chopper landed in a field behind a stately gothic farmhouse.  
The two star reporters jumped out, camera-guns at the ready. 

    At the noise of the chopper, a group of men came running out of 
the house.

    "Hey!" some young guy shouted at the two reporters.  "This is 
private property!  Leave!  Now!"

    Edison and Monique pointed their camera guns at the guy and 
Edison started speaking into his headset, "This is Edison Carter, 
coming to you live and direct on Network Twenty Three.  Monique and I 
are on the scene of what appears to be a farm where naked women are 
kept as cattle.  Are you in charge here?"

    "No," he answered, "I'm just some young guy.  You want to 
question Mark.  He's one of the owners."

    "Then we want to question Mark!" Monique answered.

    "Mark's not here now."

    "Monique," Edison interrupted.  Look around inside that house.  
I'm going to look around the barns."

    Monique shrugged and ran up into the house.  A man stood just 
inside the doorway and bolted away when he saw her.  

    "Wait!  You're live and direct on Network Twenty Three!  I want 
to talk to one of the owners!  Is Mark here?"

    The man stopped, turned, and said, "Mark's not here, but you were 
just talking to one of the owners."

    "That young guy is one of the owners?" 

    At that moment, another man sneaked up from behind her and 
grabbed Monique by an arm. 

    "Hey!" she screamed.

    "Grab the camera, Joe!"

    The other guy grabbed the camera and ripped it out of her arms as 
she yelled, "Theora!  Help!" 

    "I got it, Greg," he said as he threw the camera to the ground 
and grabbed Monique by her other arm.

    Monique struggled furiously as the two men dragged her through 
the huge house down some stairs and into what looked like a medieval 
torture chamber.  

    There, they each held her up by the ankles and clamped shackles 
around her ankles.  Then they hoisted her up by the ankles just like 
they do on the killing floor. 

    Furious, Monique screamed at them, "Don't you two know how much 
trouble you are in already?"

    "Shut up, cow!" Greg said.  Monique flinched when she saw his 
foot swing and then felt the pain of the boot strike her in the 
mouth.

    She watched Joe walk over to the door through which they entered, 
and slam it shut.  Then he slid two thick steel bars through each 
side of the frame, thoroughly sealing the door.

    Greg leered at Monique and said, "There's no hope for you now, 
cow!"

    Joe walked up to Monique hanging from the ceiling by her ankles 
and said, "Start the Grill, Greg.  I reckon this'll probably be our 
last meal on the farm."

    Greg walked up to a large stainless commercial grill installed 
along one wall of the room and turned on the gas.  Returning over to 
where Joe was ogling Monique, he said, "We're going to have some fun 
with her first, right Joe?" 

    "Ayyyup!" Joe answered, and unzipped his pants.

    Monique suffered such indignities only a few weeks ago while 
doing an expose on a kink club in Manhattan.  The scene before her 
eyes looked to be as bad, if not worse.

    Monique was getting dizzy from hanging upside-down.  Joe stepped 
up to Monique.  With some kind of knife, he sliced down each side of 
her body, cutting her clothes off. 

    "Eeyow!" Monique screamed.  "Be careful with that thing!" she 
yelled as she felt the blade slice her flesh as he slit her clothes 
off.

    Monique flinched in pain as he kicked her once again.

    "You'd best learn some manners, cow, if you want your last 
moments to be as pleasant as possible."

    Monique felt like puking, hanging naked, upside down, and her 
body cut down her sides where he sliced her clothes off.

    Joe then unzipped his pants and stepped up close to her, his cock 
hard and throbbing, and slid it into her mouth.  The gagging 
sensation was horrific as he shoved his hard member in her mouth, 
grabbed the hair on the back of her head, and pulled! 

    The pain from the gagging reflex was intense as he swung his hips 
in and out causing his cock to slide slightly in and out deep in her 
throat. 

    The image of his hairy balls and legs banging upside-down against 
her nose didn't do anything to help either. 

    She was about to pass out from suffocation when he finally pulled 
his cock out of her throat, causing his cum to drip back into the 
back of her mouth.  

    She struggled to catch her breath, but her reprieve was short 
lived as Greg stepped up for a repeat performance.

    Her body quaked in agony, but his cock in her mouth kept her 
silent.

    She felt temporary relief as he withdrew his cock from her mouth 
as his cum now drained back into her mouth from her throat. 

    Monique realized that she must have passed out, for she was 
suddenly lying on her back on some kind of cold steel table with her 
arms and legs shackled in place.

    "What now?" she gasped seeing them walk up to her.

    "She's awake, Joe," Greg said.

    "That's good," Joe answered.  "Be a darn shame if she missed out 
on the fun."

    "What fun?" she gasped.

    "Well, we're going to have some more fun while the grill's 
gettin' hot."

    "Oh my God!  No!" she screamed when she saw Joe walk up to her 
with a big long hacksaw.

    "No!  Please!  No!" she screamed as she felt the stabbing pain 
when he set the saw to her left hip and began sawing through her 
thigh.

    "These chops are gon' be mighty tasty!" Joe said.

    "Ayyyup!" Greg said in agreement as Joe continued to butcher her.

    She was almost relieved the torture was finally over when Joe had 
cut her leg completely off.  But then he crossed over to the other 
side, and began to saw through her other leg.  Meanwhile, she caught 
a glimpse of Greg carrying her severed leg over to the grill.

    Her vision gradually became blurry as her lifeblood gushed from 
her hips where her legs had been severed.

    Then, to add further indignity, Joe climbed on top of her as Greg 
carried her other leg to the grill.  

    She hardly felt the pain of his cock in her pussy over the pain 
of her severed legs.  

    Joe slammed his cock in and out, in and out, and finally began 
moaning, "Oh yes!  Squeeze my cock with your pussy muscles!"  

    Monique felt it too; in her death throes, she was squeezing his 
cock with her pussy muscles involuntarily with more strength than she 
would have believed possible. 

    "Take your last breath, cow," he started to come in her, "as I 
take pleasure from you."

    "Ah!  Ah!  Ah!  Ah!" he gasped and quaked on top of her.

    Staring into his grotesque face, she saw it.  The light!  She was 
swimming toward the light.  The pain was gone.  Only the light 
mattered.

    It was orgasmic.  No one ever told her it would be orgasmic.  
Monique felt the most incredible orgasm build as she approached the 
light.  

    The light engulfed her as the unwavering joy and the intense 
pleasure overwhelmed her. 

    - THE END -

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+