Jem's Bad Week (Part 1)
#2 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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I'm ahead!
Jem ran, her boots pounding on the worn dirt track, her tail flying behind her, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, deafening her. She fought to ignore the hurting ache building in her bouncing chest and nearly cried out, tears glistening from her eyes, as she pushed her burning legs to go faster.
I'm in front!
Jem didn't think of herself as slow, but usually she was in the last quarter of the group on runs; and she was always last when they ran within a few days of a punishment detail, each bounce of her large, full breasts sending shockwaves of pain that sapped her strength. (Bras were not regulation and, with infantry nanites and pain suppressors, usually unnecessary.)
But this time was different; she had pulled out in front early and never been passed.
Now she held onto that truth as she raced, the path winding about the trees. She focused straight ahead, never looking back for fear that the rest of her squad mates would be a breath behind her, and rush past her in that one momentary slip of attention. And this was a race she could not afford to lose!
"Listen up, leech-worms!" the sergeant had shouted to the assembled squad not fifteen minutes ago. "We've brought you out here today for a mine-clearing exercise. The corporal and I spent all last night seeding the arboretum with mines, so you fucking well better find each and every god-damned one! The only safe zones are here," the sergeant had circled his arm to indicate the parking lot, "and the highly visible trail that winds through the woods."
Jem had stood at attention, a nervous knot growing in her stomach, barely managing to avoid turning to glance at her squad-mates' reactions. The sergeant and the corporal were watching.
"These mines are live!" the sergeant had continued. "Now the protection granted by your infantry nanites will protect you should one of you do something stupid, but your pain-dampeners have been shut off for this exercise. If you fuck up, I want you to _feel_ it! Then you'll answer to me!"
Then sergeant's face had broken into a grin, and Jem's stomach-knot had doubled-up in apprehension . "While the corporal and I set things up here, I want you maggots to give me one lap around the arboretum track! And you god-damned better make it fast!"
"Get moving, you worthless piss-gnats!" the sergeant had bellowed as the mass of the squad had begun jogging forward down the path. "The last one back gets to help us clear the mines... with her _tits_!" Jem had run as hard as she could, certain the sergeant had been staring right at her when he said that.
Now, she was almost back to the parking lot. She could see glimpses of it through the trees. At the sight, Jem felt an uplifting burst of joy, her screaming muscles catching a second wind as she turned the last corner...
They were all there! No! Impossible! But... they were all there, her entire squad, standing in the parking lot. Waiting for her. She was _last_!
Jem stumbled, her momentary joy crushed into a ball of despair. She caught her footing but in that instant, her reserves failed her, and her run faltered to a slow jog. She took in the sight before her, mind reeling. The corporal looked unimpressed. The sergeant? Thunderous.
"But...." It was impossible. She was in front! She was never passed! Then it hit her.
A shortcut. There must have been a fork in the path somewhere that she had missed. A perhaps slightly-less-highly-visible route that everyone else knew but her. She'd run the long way.