Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 435(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
For a second I don’t move. My mind blanks. All I see is teeth and claws and the flicker of camera flashes, the crowd howling for blood. I could stay on the edge and just spectate—no one expects me to intervene, least of all Stella—but then I see the way Tammy’s nails dig into the side of Stella’s face, leaving a line of red from cheekbone to jaw. And it’s not fair. It’s not a contest anymore; it’s just survival.
Something inside me cracks. I look for a weapon. I have to help my friend.
The nearest thing is a broom, propped against the kitchen doorway, the handle long and wooden and the bristles gnarled and sad. Without thinking, I grab it and wade into the ring, swinging the stick sideways to wedge between the two bodies. It’s heavier than it looks. I shout, “Break it up!” but my voice is lost in the roar. The crowd pulls back to let me through, which means the world is watching.
Stella is on top now, legs straddling Tammy, the blue of her mini riding up so far it might as well not exist. She’s got a fistful of red hair, yanking hard, but Tammy is scrappy—she knees Stella in the gut and rolls them both, sending them into a spin that crashes them against the kitchen island. The broom handle knocks against the granite with a hollow thunk, and for a second both girls are off-balance, frozen, staring at each other with pure, loathing focus.
Then Tammy goes for it: a desperate lunge, arms wide, catching Stella around the waist and trying to drag her down. I swing the broom to wedge it between them—except instead of just separating, the handle catches under Tammy’s skirt, which is less a skirt and more a belt of shiny plastic wrapped around her waist. Clearly, she’s not wearing panties. There’s only lush pink skin and the promise of catastrophe.
“Unnh!” Tammy shrieks as the broom finds her sweet spot, her eyes going wide. “Oh my god!”
The handle drives up and in, hard enough to make a sound—a wet, obscene sound—and Tammy’s head jerks back, mouth wide, eyes blown out in shock. She lets go of Stella and grabs for the wall, hands scrabbling. For a split second, she just stays there, impaled, the room going wild with “Toxic” by Britney Spears blaring in the background.
“Oh my god!” I scream, still holding onto my end of the broom. “OMG, OMG!”
Tammy’s jaw shudders, and then she moans—a long, guttural, involuntary sound, not pain but something raw and bright and sexual. Her back arches. The broom handle twitches in my grip. I try to pull it away but she clamps down with her pussy, hips rolling in a way that’s hypnotic and horrifying all at once.
“Ooooh!” she sighs, her eyes closing as she works the broom handle with her cunt. “Mmmm!”
For three full seconds, everyone goes quiet as we stare in amazement. Then, in slow motion, the realization blooms across every face: I have just broom-fucked the redheaded nemesis of the party.
I try to say “Sorry!” but it comes out strangled. My hand is still on the handle. I let go and it stays there, wobbling, until Tammy collapses sideways, dragging the stick with her, gasping and clutching between her legs. She continues to work it. Hell, Tammy even grabs the handle herself and begins fucking herself with the broom, enjoying the intense penetration.
“Ooooh!” she moans again, throwing her head back. “Yes yes yes!
By now, her dress is practically in shreds. One big breast is visible, ivory and lush, and her red hair hangs down her back in matted waves. But most shocking is the sight of her swollen pink pussy as she fucks it with a cleaning implement.
“Mmm!” she moans again, eyes rolling back into her head. “Ohhhhh Boyd!”
What the fuck? The crowd explodes—not in laughter or jeers, but in a kind of hysterical, animal shriek. I see at least three phones catch the moment, flashes popping. Somewhere, someone is clapping. Stella stands, mascara streaming down her face, one thigh bleeding, and stares at me in total disbelief.
“Did you just…” she begins.
I shake my head. “It was an accident, I swear—”
Tammy is still on the floor, whimpering. There’s a spatter of something white on her thigh, but she looks more shocked than wounded. Then, to everyone’s amazement, she pulls the broom out of her pussy and begins edging it into her ass. Is she going to…? OMG, she is! We watch with astonished eyes as Tammy pushes the brown handle against the clenched star of her anus. But this is too much. I can’t watch this happen, and seize the handle again, tugging the broom away from the redhead before she can anally impale herself on the implement.
“Stop!” I cry out. “Oh my god, can’t you see that people are filming? What are you doing?”