Bukkake Brawl - Bizarro Cyberpunk Serial (insanely twisted fiction in 140-character lines or less)
an excerpt

WARNING! THIS WORK CONTAINS HARDCORE ADULT SITUATIONS, LANGUAGE AND GRAPHIC VIOLENCE!

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The crowd roared, the spittle from their frothing muzzles creating a fine mist that mixed with Mei's sweat and the blood from the cut above her left eye.

The cut burn with a maddening man-made piss-crackle fire. Was the jackhole in front of her hopped up on Accelerated NanoHerpes!?

She body-slammed him and placed his nuts in a crusher hold that took him out of the match. Better safe than sorry.

Not that ANH was illegal, but it puckered her sphincter nonetheless. Bukkake Brawl rules: no traditional weapons. Otherwise, have at.

DNA hacks, mouth sacs, cyborg enhancements, skin mods, pheromone differentials. Customer-contestants should spend so much on their cocks.

Bukkake Brawl: the fiendishly genius marriage of extreme sports and porn. Rough, muff, and tumble.

Three scantily clad women, a.k.a. the Jizzabels, step into a wrestling pit and take on all-cumers.

It attracts college kids, weirdoes, macho assholes, perverts, cherry boys, misogynists and a mishmash there of. No licenses required.

They are the Jackals. A mob of howling, mad-dog contestants ready to hump anything that moves. Including the occasional stray cambot.

Jackals pony up Y25000 each for a chance in the pit. An entry fee that doesn’t actually guarantee anything.

They must survive the Prelims where hopefuls eliminate two-thirds of their own number before the Jizzabels even enter the pit.

Losers are consoled with a membership in the Circle Jerks, the group of men who do just that IF the Jizzabels can be defeated in the Honban.

No touchy-touchy or fuckee-fuckee, just stand over the winners and pull their dinkie twinkies until they blow wad over the hostess ho-hos.

Prelims are fierce; a straight-up street brawl for pussy. But it pales compared to Homban, The Real Deal. The crème de la crème of brawling.

While the Prelims resulted in the weak being hurled from the ring like sad sacks of pig shit. Homban was blood, sweat, tears and semen.

Gallons of semen.

Homban was where it all potentially paid off for the Jackals. If the Jizzabels lost, every man still standing in the ring got their yearn.

The Jizzabels were submitted to every moan, groan, grunt and white explosion of hair-gobbing, mouth-filling, pussy-drenching spoo.

Name of the game baby. There is no maybe.

Televised globally, Bukkake Brawl was where women became adored idols, and cherry boys became men!

Lights. Action. Hover-botcams. Spectators. Screaming fists. And more fluids than any girl ever wanted to swallow.

Re-orientating herself, Mei let the mayhem of her forced profession wash over her.

The air was the acrid; heavy with the dried-squid stink snack-breath of fans rabidly exhaling over her from their stadium seating above.

Bukkake Brawl pits were thrice times the size of the average Bare-knuckle Boxing ring.

Large enough to allow the Jackals and Jizzabels go to work on each other. Cozy enough to allow the fans above to drool on them.

To her left, Catgirl Mon was down under the weight of a heavy pinning her shoulders while a second helicoptered on her raised haunches.

It was too late to try and save Mon. Penetration had been made. Fuck!

Mei took her frustration out on a nearby Jackal with an impolite chop to the Adam’s apple. He gakked, jerked once and stayed down.

An announcer w00ted and ran comment on Mei’s fighting stats. The urge to jump the wall and make him a stat was overwhelming.

Instead she took a misplaced left hook that clipped her ear, catching her in the side of the head.

She retaliated with a pile driver and raised her fists defiantly. ‘You hit like your mother bitch! At least she could ride face!”

It was then that she caught sight of Tahna eating several jackhammer blows to the stomach in quick succession. Pneumos!

She curse-winced as the large-breasted, blonde Slav went down with a sickened wheeze and didn’t get up. Drool pooled from open mouth.

The Jackals locust-swarmed. Mei knew it was only moments before they devoured her clothes and reaped their reward.

Mei wasn't in the mood to play the flesh flute for anyone tonight, and Tahna was a friend.

It wasn't too late to save her. Penetration hadn’t been made yet. If Mei could clear a path...

Jumping into the fray, she dropped to her hands in a well-timed whipkick that jacked an opponent's legs out from under him.

Now pure adrenaline, she stood, took a running start and timed a grab to a second jackal’s head as she brought her knees up.

The crack-reply told her he wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

A third Jackal was already fingering Tahna through the thin, sweaty spandex that outlined the woman’s vulva.

Mei twisted her fingers through his hair and was making to wrench a gaping tuff out when an arm snaked around from behind her.

Fuck. Sleeper Hold!

She shattered two ribs with a reinforced elbow. Scream replaced the arm.

But her struggle was brief as she ate two hardened clean shots from other sources: one to the kidneys, another to the solar-plexus.

Dry-heave. Stumble backwards. Struggle for air. Choking panic!

Phantoms danced around choking-her. Poking. Teasing. She flailed. No avail. A pair of arms locked under her chin, wrenching it backwards.

They're everywhere! Panic seeped into her mind like chilled industrial sludge eating at the lining of clear thought.

Hastily she dropped to one knee to work a little magic, only to be stopped cold by a kick to the gut. The unfriendly taste of bile filled her mouth.

A midget with a grin the girth of the Gobi Desert chuckled as he used the body of an downed compatriot to step up to her.

His eyes were filled with a terrible greed that infected his breath the odor of darkness. A cold chill ran down Mei's spine.

He took her head in his hands and kissed her on the nose, and then took her windpipe in a hold that slowly closed it off.

She struggled, but knew it was too late. Sickening black swirls teased at her gray matter. Merciless, nasty black bugs giggling torturously.

Good night sweet princess, the midget’s eyes danced with a mischievous hate-filled glee.

“No...” Her plea was a no more than a strained, desperate gasp.

Yes, the midget smiled. His large forehead went back in a cackle, and then came down in a scream.

The sound of her nose breaking was the last thing Mei heard before she succumbed to the outskirts of consciousness.

***

Mei woke in Infirmary, the only place in the city where indentured contracts could get hospitalesque services.

Her bed propped. The view was bleak. Cracked walls bled despair in microspasms of an unknown dependency.

She closed her eyes, wished for a nightmare and opened them once more. Nope. Didn't work. Still in Hell.

One of these days she was going to wake in one of the coveted rooms of CareOne, the exclusive, luxury clinics for the rich and powerful.

That was gonna happen the same week she woke up a free woman… never.

An urge to laugh was ass-ended by one to cry. Both were cut short by the pain caused by the asshole skullfucking her.

A constant whine popped, going singularity in her head.

And the bells on the skates of the members of the Church of the Holy Rollers of Mars were ringing for broke in her head.

They played Buttslumming with Your Ego in C-minor. Off-key no less.

To top it off, her nose sat in geosync orbit above her face, throbbing on a rather disturbing frequency called GODASSMOTHERDOGWHORE.

Other than all that, it was a perfect day to be dead.

The room boasted three other beds stacked bunk-like, one on the wall opposite her was occupied.

A bipolar light panel, gripping the ceiling for dear life, lit the room in skitterish, spastic waves.

And the echoes of hallway phantoms leaked through the waif of a sliding sheet metal door.

The door sucked in a breath as it slid open and a battered but smiling Tahna wheeled-in in an ancient wheelchair culled from some dump.

"You live after all." The big girl’s expression was triangulated between pained, grateful and sorry; Mei understood it all too well.

"Thanks for coming to my rescue." Tahna put her arm on Mei's. “I tried,” Mei bitterly fought back a tear to no avail.

"Some rescue. She got us all pig-juiced by a bunch of hurl-monkeys with cocks the size of Titmouse tits." Monique walked through the door.

"Shove it bitch, you fucked yourself. Gotta learn to turn that catty heat off. You were ready to do the entire audience." Tahna growled.

She turned back to Mei. "After the midget worked his magic on you, no one wanted his sloppy seconds. So they went for Mon instead."

Mei screwed her eyes shut. "Sorry." Tahna’s voice was soothing, "No worries hon, that’s life in the pits. You know it."

"Oh sure, no worries after you've been brained. I serviced 20-odd audience-monkeys. Fully conscious."

Tahna’s expression fouled, "Bitch, I heard you moanin'."

"Could've been a different story if that midget hadn't nutted her." Mon sneered at Mei, "Be thankful you were out cold."

The Russian winced in agreement, "That midget was packing some serious meat."

“Meat!? It wasn’t meat; meat don’t move. That thing was alive.” Monique's velvet panther fur-skin mod visibly rippled in revulsion.

"Came out of a damn pouch. Must have had his stomach replaced with a Ener-Generator to make room for the bastard."

Joy. Mei felt her legs go to slowburn with a bow-legged aftertaste. She was no virgin, but big-n-beefy was worlds apart from rip-n-tear.

The door slid open. A broad-shouldered man with a bald pate and cruel scars for a face pushed passed Mon as he strode into the room.

Norris. Mei's indentured contract holder. "See they got you all cleaned up." His voice was deep, and cold as a morgue storage locker.

Mei croaked an embarrassed greeting that she nearly choked on trying to get out, "Hey boss."

"Took 3 assisted showers to get all the semen off you. Midget had elephant-testicle DNA. 1/2 his wad hit the turds circlejerking over you."

Mei cracked a joke, "Any of them drown?" The intensity of his gaze savagely screwed her to her bed, twisting her guts. Her mouth dried.

He continued no indication he’d heard her, "Bright side. Capital B ‘Bank’. Bukkake Kings was filming; they were pleased. Bonuses for all."

Tahna whooped, but that was the extent of joy in the room as the steady, silent look in Norris’ eyes slaughtered the mood.

He continued. "Bad news is, with all but Mon, none of you can fight for the next couple weeks. No training, no fighting... no bank!"

The room stilled. No bank. Indentured fighters who couldn’t pay off their contracts were worthless. If they were worthless…

Norris lobbed a PDaTV at Mei, and turned his look on the other girls. They left, no questions asked. Property doesn’t have the right.

Mei flipped the mobile device around to look at the screen. "What's this?"

"Your performance." His voice softened as he approached her bed. His sheer size and posture intimidated her. She dropped her eyes.

An unadulterated hiss crawled over his words. "You fight like that again, I'll sell your ass to a bathhouse servicing poxed Jackgrrls."

She nodded fearfully, a flood of tears welling up behind her eyes. But she couldn’t cry, not here, not in front of him.

If Norris, for even the briefest, thought she wasn't strong enough to generate his Fuk Buks, she would simply cease to exist.

He loomed over her, hovering, waiting for that perfect moment to consume her. The room darkened, slithered with a tangible hatred.

He groped himself as he approached and the IF-THEN loop programmed into her tripped. Her clit went into Moana Pleasea Overdrive.

Vibrating on its own at orgasmic speeds, it quickly subdued her. Eye-roll, gaping mouth, just the slightest whimper of thanks.

A fail-safe designed to keep slaves on their knees. Or from running. Hard to run when you’re hard up for cockballscunttits.

Though rarely used in-pit, every Jizzabel had the programming threaded into her DNA at indentureship.

Norris activated Mei’s at the lowest setting. On the highest, it would incapacitate her within seconds…

multigasms would ripple through her every other second. Long enough to gasp for air, but just, and nothing more.

So she let the trigger roll her. Through the haze, she feared he might fall upon her right there. He could. Had the right. Had in the past.

Pain would not concern him. Only punishment and his own pleasure. Mercy intervened in just the slightest.

Instead of his full body weight, a sizzling ripple of a terrible familiarity pressed itself to her lips, and she parted them obediently.

It slid deep as she serviced it. Norris growled, gnashed and gasped. It exploded. And she gag-choked the results down, fearful of reprisal if she didn’t.

Then… just as darkly as he had stole upon her, he was gone.

From her still-open mouth, a deep-throated, clicking moan climbed from somewhere hidden inside her and voiced itself.

Tears napalmed down her cheeks; burning rivers of hatred gouging angry-red furrows. She was helpless to stop them or any other demon.

Mei fetaled as self-loathing, desperation, and depression monstrously feasted on her soul; hollowing it and leaving the husk to rot.

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If you like what you've read so far (who could blame ya?), BUY my first ebook MEDIA WHORES, the bizarro cyberpunk tale of zombies, sex, zombie sex and love in a future, post-apocalyptic Old Tokioh. Then check out the rest of this work (posted as a serial every M, W, F Tokyo Standard Time) @ JunkDNA Fiction! You won't be disappointed.