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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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Jem stood at the front of her squad as they all faced the heavy plastisteel doors into the advanced obstacle course. Jem's body trembled weakly, struggling with the effort to simply remain upright when her breasts were nothing but massive hammers of pain trying to slam her to the ground. She gasped with the effort. Soon it would not be enough for her to manage to stand; soon she would have to run!

She tried to imagine what lay just beyond, and how she could possibly overcome it, well aware that the track and obstacles were designed to be a tough and punishing challenge for a young soldier with fully functional dermal armor and pain-suppressors.

The advanced obstacle course was like a maze, with a multitude of obstacles that could be reconfigured into whatever track the company sergeant devised. Her squad had been running serge's obstacle course for five months. But today, with the war game against Echo company ahead of them, the sergeant had arranged for them to run the course that Echo company's sergeant had been sending his squad through. And while some obstacles, such as the climbing wall, were practically guaranteed to present themselves somewhere along the way, neither Jem nor anyone behind her knew for certain what waited on the other side of those doors.

"I hear the first obstacle, if the recruit's a female, is designed to go right for the tits!" one of her squad mates, Mariann, smirked as she whispered this nugget into Jem's ear. Mariann was rewarded with a strangled whimper.

"Attention!" barked the sergeant. "Private Barmfager, take position!" Jem gingerly crouched into a start position, hear ears pasted back. Her large breasts hung heavily from her chest, pulsing with horrible agony and covered in swaths of fire from the table, straining against the single button closed over them. Her tail drooped onto the ground, and she forced it back up. Sweat broke over her forehead, beneath her fur, as she worked up the courage to make herself run.

The doors opened, revealing beyond them a corridor that angled sharply to the left ten yards ahead, obfuscating the rest of the track. The sergeant's whistle shrilled, and Jem forced her feet to push against the ground, propelling her forward. She began to run, and the first bounce was nearly crippling! She let out a short, sharp yelp and continued on, the second and third bounces building on the pain of the first, the rub of her strained fatigues pouring napalm on top of napalm.

On the sixth bounce, her boobies slipped free from the meager restraint of her fatigues. It was a blessing and a curse â€" her breasts now swung even more freely and painfully, but the friction-aggravated blaze across her boobs stopped racing to new heights, instead seeping in deep.

Through the pounding in her ears, she heard a shrill cry. At first she thought it must be the scream her burning lungs wanted to release; but no, it was the sergeant's whistle signaling Mariann to follow her in. Behind them, Winger would be taking position.

Jem also heard the barking ahead of her, but it didn't register through her torment. Her breasts were fireworks of agony bursting across her chest! Her brain screamed for her to stop! Somehow, she drove on, thinking only about how she only had to make one lap over the track. Then she could rest. Finally, she could rest.

She turned the corner at full speed.

The dogs went right for Jem's large, lush, bouncing boobs!

Jem saw them at the last second: two huge, genetically engineered battlefield mastiffs! Their slobbering jaws were powerful enough to bend steel. Their metallic teeth were razor-sharp. Their bodies bulged with pure muscle under sleek black fur. Their eyes glinted red, betraying wetware-enhanced targeting augmentations. The two massive battlehounds launched themselves at her; the chains that bound them to this corner of the course clanking vibrantly as the dog's charge swiftly eliminated the slack.

Jem's first instinct was to stop. She planted her boots against the ground, trying to skid to a halt before the momentum of her run carried her into the range of the mastiff's chains, overbalanced, and pitched forward, virtually throwing her free-bouncing boobies into the slavering maws! Powerful jaws found their targets, chomping down with excessive violence! Vicious, nightmarish PAIN exploded through Jem's breasts! The weight of the dogs wrenched at her boobs, driving her to her knees as teeth like bear-traps tore hungrily at her helpless knockers.

Those teeth tore Jem's world away, plunging her into a black abyss of agony! She cried out as fresh and exquisite pain tore through her already immeasurably hurting tits. Excruciating torture bit into her brain, annihilating everything but a weak voice crying out for mercy. But all that came from her lungs were lush, vibrant screams.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" Oh GOD! Make it stop!! "IIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" Please make it stop!!! "YYYEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!" No more!!! Oh god, have mercy!!! "AAAAAAAAAAAIIIEEEEEE!!!!!"

Jem thrashed, kicking and swiping wildly, as the dogs pulled her to the ground, never releasing her breasts save to find a more painful way to bite! She arched, twisting on the ground, howling out bloodcurling screams as the two trained warrior-mastiffs exorcised all their savagery on Jem's large breasts â€" gnawing, pulling, grinding and twisting with strength engineered to tear apart powered armor.

One by one, the rest of the squad tiptoed past, letting Jem distract the dogs.