Total Career Wipeout Ch. 01

The man's thigh restraints slide back; he's now free to direct his whole strength towards the pint-sized brunette. Despite his rather disadvantaged position, once his sheer size and muscle power are brought to bear she finds herself being pummelled increasingly hard, every one of his upthrusts slamming into her like a freight train; visible shockwaves travel through her petite frame, perky tits bobbling faster than the eye can follow.

Ursula however is not in the least bit fazed by the younger woman's fate: "Why Hazel, I simply can't believe you're a music student," she chuckles, "Your rhythm is all over the place!"

Yet Osman still isn't satisfied. He begins to lift his upper body off the bench, clumsily reaching out for Hazel while at the same time trying to maintain his ferocious assault on her nether regions. Soon he's visible to all the cameras, which comes as a surprise to their crews - normally the men prefer to stay safely anonymous behind their partitions. But it's his call, so they just keep on filming. Once his massive arms are wrapped around the girl's smooth back, he's able to deploy his full might, sliding his mighty pole fully out before slamming it back into her quaking body with each thrust. Hazel's eyes are tight shut as she struggles to come to terms with the new and mind-blowing world she now finds herself in; she's never felt to utterly overwhelmed, so totally at the mercy of another human being. And yet, when her lolling head flops over Osman's right shoulder, she finds herself gazing longingly down the slope of his back to where his coal-black buttocks hammer back and forth. If she wasn't firmly strapped in place, she knew exactly where hands would be right now!

The sight of their contrasting skin tones in violent collision is magnificent. Felicity finds it an even hornier spectacle than she could have imagined, although she can't help wondering what Mr and Mrs Littleton would think right now, if they could see their darling daughter receiving a thorough pounding from this tall, dark stranger!

Suddenly the man presses his thick lips over hers. Surprisingly, while the audience cheering excitedly, Hazel finds herself responding, although she finds difficult to maintain contact with his savage pumping dashing the breath from her body.

"Wow, ladies and gentlemen, this looks like the real thing!" Ursula crows. But then Hazel is forced to break off the passionate kiss: something more important has come up.

"Oh fuck - oh fuck - oh fuck!" she repeats over and over, as her climax crashes through her like a tsunami smashing into a sandcastle. Suddenly everyone is granted a peek at a previously unknown side of Hazel, slave to the lustful impulses of her primitive brain. She follows through with a protracted groan of pure pleasure that strikes deep into the libido of every warm-blooded female in the room; the sound of creaking chairs rises from the darkened audience as dozens of women shift awkwardly in their seats.

The producers are over the moon. It's quite normal to witness the losing contestant pleading, cursing, even bursting into tears in the final seconds before her man lets rip. But a full-blown orgasm, delivered shamelessly before the cameras, is a rare treat. Amplified over the speakers, the couple's gasps harmonise into a chorus of mutual appreciation as they transform into a shining symbol of racial integration, two sets of hips grinding together in perfect synchrony, striving to bring their peoples into ever-closer union. On monitor number three, Hazel's face contorts through a incredible sequence of emotional expressions, leaving the production team rubbing their hands with glee; they know exactly how hysterical those recordings will look in slow-mo!

And the best is yet to come, because her partner too has now reached his limit:

"Rrrrruuuuh!! Yeah, yeah, yeah!!" he yells as his prick erupts, launching premium-grade Nigerian spunk deep inside Hazel's defenceless sex. His ejaculation is confirmed by a fanfare of alarm bells and cascades of coloured spotlights that swirl around the couple in a glitter ball effect. The audience applaud wildly, having been on tenterhooks awaiting this first climax of the evening, while Hazel's competitors are unable to wrench their eyes away from the action as brand new life is brought into existence just a few scant feet away in a shouting, sweating, gyrating explosion. Instinctively they all recoil, as if by distancing themselves from their unfortunate neighbour they might avoid the same fate.

Osman's copious jets are so powerful, they spur the pint-sized student to her second climax of the evening and once again she surrenders herself to the waves of pleasure crashing through her brain; her cunt muscles clench frantically, desperate not to miss out on one drop of the precious, life-giving seed, and then the couple seal their sexual merger with one final noisy transaction, swirling lights playing across their shuddering bodies. Lost in this moment of abandon, Hazel is barely aware that her career plans now lie in tatters around her...

* * * *

Of course, now that one of the men has blown his load, the game is effectively over. But for Felicity and Amanda there's one minor unresolved problem: both remain firmly impaled atop their respective lovers! Amanda is still straddling her huge sinister Russian while Felicity sits astride her Middle-eastern peasant. And having just watched Hazel getting comprehensively fucked, neither particularly fancies joining her! Felicity immediately begins yelling for assistance, seconded by Amanda's own high-pitched protests, but just two stagehands are available to unshackle them - and both men have been given strict instructions. To Felicity and Amanda's disbelief and dismay, the pair rush over and begin unlocking Jasmine first!

"What the fuck are you doing? Get us OUT, you bastards!" Felicity yells at their supposed saviours, but both men calmly continue with the job in hand. It probably only takes seconds to unshackle the Cardiff student, but for the two girls still "in play" it feels like an eternity as they fight desperately against their restraints. And when Jasmine is finally freed, stepping down from her mountings, it's clear she's trying hard not to laugh at her competitors' predicament.

By now the two girls are practically crying with fear, begging and pleading to be released. Finally the two stagehands hurry across to Amanda, but she is about to fall victim to her own folly: her fierce struggles have somehow jammed the mechanisms on her ankle restraints. While her would-be rescuers wrestle with the locks, the unthinkable happens: her captive thug grunts, his body tensing. Amanda screams at the stagehands to hurry up, but it's Viktor who answers her first, his fearsome outburst featuring nearly every obscenity in the Russian language as he unloads his thick, potent seed deep inside the Hull student's unprotected pussy.

"Oh no! Oh shit! Oh my GOD! He's cumming inside me! He's fucking cumming inside me!" Amanda swears out loud, eyes bulging in shock and incomprehension at how things could ever have come to this. With each squirt she can feel the Russian's kinked member twist and turn inside her, as if trying to write his signature across her womb - which in a sense, he is. All Amanda can think about are those millions and millions of sperms wriggling upwards into the deepest recesses of her sex.

It's a heavy blow to Amanda's plans for the future, and her parents' ambitions too. After years of social climbing they'd held out great hopes for their only daughter, anticipating a good university degree and a decent marriage to follow. But now someone had just hit the reset button on Amanda's social status, reducing her in the blink of an eye to the mother of some stranger's bastard child. With her career plans swept away in a tidal wave of sticky jizm, the dazzling lightshow and blaring klaxons that mark her downfall are barely loud enough to drown out her own heartbreaking wail of despair.

The two stagehands hesitate for a second; then, realising Amanda's cause is lost, they abandon her and turn their attentions to Felicity, still fighting desperately against her unyielding restraints. But that brief hesitation is enough to seal Felicity's fate: even as the helpers struggle with her manacles, the supine peasant beneath her groans. His rough hands tighten their grip on her smooth thighs, and then Felicity feels it - that first almighty stream powering upwards like some evil snake, squirming deeper, eager to coil itself around her defenceless ovaries. It's quickly followed by a second, then a third of no lesser power; his lower body seems to carry on jerking and twitching for ages, spurt after spurt splashing her vaginal walls, redecorating her whole interior in his personal shade of creamy-white. Whilst the Manchester student's career prospects are comprehensively demolished, out in the audience her uni pals Lori and Clarissa watch the whole thing in helpless horror... and silently resolve to study harder for their next assignments!

* * * *

And so the TCW show achieves another first - an unprecedented three students fucked to the finishing line in just one bout! The producers are overjoyed, and the audience cheer wildly; but up on stage the three losers appear drained of energy, their knackered forms still hanging in their bonds like discarded puppets.

Amanda, her body drenched in sweat, is motionless but for the gentle motion of her breathing. The concealed cameras however are still coolly chronicling of the final stages of her violation: aided by near-perfect illumination from the carefully arranged studio lights, every detail of her sex is recorded for the archives, right down to the excess jizz that slowly drips from her ravaged cunt lips as her Russian lover's shrivelling tool finally slurps free. Felicity is still basking in the afterglow of her own luxurious fuck; her eyes are closed and her mind is still reeling with the enormity of what's happened to her. Further along, ex-music student Hazel is finally beginning to return to her senses, and one camera zooms in for the crucial close-up: not of Hazel's crotch, but of her face as the realities of her new situation slowly sink in and her dazed expression turns increasingly fraught.

But so far as the producers are concerned, the losers' story can wait - there are more important matters to attend to. Lights sweep across the set, and recombine to focus on Jasmine. Freed from her bonds, the triumphant student stands with her arms crossed over her boobs while she awaits her prize giving. Jasmine produces a dazzling smile for the cameras as she is presented first with a large fluffy bath towel to cover her modesty, and then with a generous cheque that will more than cover her course fees. The audience erupt again and the girl appears genuinely touched, scarcely able to believe her good fortune. Taking a second look at the figure on the cheque, a tear wells in the corner of her eye.

In the background meanwhile, stagehands are rapidly erecting temporary screening to shield the three unsuccessful contestants while they're escorted off-stage. As they make their exit, every man within range of a monitor screen strains to catch a glimpse of their abused bodies. Only one party remain oblivious to recent events: over the green room, lacking any live feed from the studio, the next batch of students dutifully prepare for their own performance. Completely ignorant of the other girls' fate, they're blissfully unaware that just a few yards away their butt-naked, semen-stained predecessors are stumbling towards the dressing rooms. As the trio retreat, they pass the next group of male partners, who are already headed for the stage. The four men glance sideways at the broken figures of the girls and swap smirks, knowing that right now the fresh meat is being lined up backstage: another batch of pert, peachy British talent, applying the final touches to their make-up, checking their nails, getting ready for a night that none of them will ever forget...

(to be continued)