Hunter

"Ohmigoood!" Our favorite mocha-skinned newswoman exclaimed, adding "OOH YES, YES, NO, NO. Plow me like a field, Todd. Do it to me baby!!Oh YES YES, Aye Yi Yi. Here I come baby." she screamed as she unleashed a torrent of love juices that spilled over the pommel, and formed a white waterfall down her delectable gams.

"Oh god, that was good," she told her co-anchor. In a muted voice, she asked him, "Do you think anybody noticed?

"Oh yeah, I imagine everyone in the KSEX Action News viewing area did," Todd Christian replied. "They probably all came together as one. But that's not a problem. Why do think our ratings are sky high? Its not because we're are Edward R. Murrow -level journalists, I can tell you that. It's because your delightful coffee-flavored G-Cup gazongas spill out of your titanium push up bra at least once a week and our extensive Action News camera system is always Johnny-on-the Spot to fully document such events. So don't sweat it , baby, even though your left titty generally gets about a hundred more likes that your right one."

"Oh, no" Pamela Mocha said, popping out both of the aforementioned titties out of their titanium prisons and weighing them with her hands. "What am I going to do?"

Todd Christian walked around behind his co-anchor's chair and palmed Pam Mocha's gargantuan hooters, giving them both an affectionate squeeze, ignoring the carpal tunnel pain brought on by similar such acts in the past, all in the service of KSEX Action News.

"Oh, I loves you, Toddy., Don't let them take me. Don't let them plastic surgeons handle me with their hot hands and drive me mad."

"Not to worry my creamy-brown overendowed co-host. Both of your bazookas have already received over three million likes since you plopped them out and dumped them on the newsroom desk a few seconds ago.. Ain't nobody gonna take a scalpel to these national treasures anytime soon."

"You mean it, baby? You really think so? "Pam said, blotting her tears with her co-host's power tie.

"Sure I do. Just look at our Skype audience." the blindingly-smiled honkey said, gesturing to a panel of TV monitors on the far left wall of the newsroom. The vast majority of them showed a KSEX viewer's erect phallus on the verge of orgasm.

"They're just trying to make me feel better," the co-hosting vixen sobbed, burying her head in her hands.

"What about the much greater audience that doesn't even know we can see them?" Todd gestured to a bank of TV monitors in the middle of the newsroom, showing images derived from home security systems , the new feature of Google Earth, computers carelessly left opened , KSEX's extensive fleet of voyeur drones and the like.

Ninety percent of the monitors showed despicable acts of sexual depravity that, to quote the esteemed Douglas Neidermeyer of Animal House fame, decorum prohibits listing here.

Todd Christian threw his arms around his weeping co-anchor. "See baby, See all the happiness you bring into the world every day? It's all due to you. Without you, the world would be lost in misery."

"You really think so.?"

"Of course I do, baby . Of course I do. Why don't you suck me a little. That always makes you feel better."

"OK baby, that might just hit the spot." Pam reached over to cup her shining co-anchor's 'nads through his three-piece suit. She slid his zipper down, and freed Todd's ten-inch pillar for all the KSEX viewing audience to see. Said shaft received over 200,000 likes in the first minute.

"I guess they're raring to go, honey, Todd said. "Let's give them what they want."

Pamela Mocha lowered her mouth and slid it slowly over the hood of Todd's monster and ran her tongue around its base. "Byou mow what?" she asked.

"Pam, we've talked about this. Don't talk with your mouth full. The KSEX viewership deserves more than this."

"Sorry," Pam said, reluctantly pulling her mouth of Todd's wondrous tool, and tasted the precum oozing out of its eye with her tongue.

"OK, my chocolate nymphomaniac, what were you a about to say?" Todd asked.

"Did you ever wonder whether Sodom and Gomorrah Township is a normal place to live? I mean our population is only 30,000 and yet we have over 8,000 S&M clubs. That seems like a lot."

"OK, it might be a little on the high side, but we have to give the people what they expect and want. In my experience, this would seem about right for a township of this size."

"Does your experience include any travel outside of the of the limits of Sodom and Gomorrah Township?" the creamy brown nymphet asked her high-albedo co-anchor, holding her hand up so that she would not be blinded by his gleaming teeth.

"Hell, no! Why would anybody ever leave this place?, Todd Christian replied. "It's a paradise here.

"Maybe outsiders are attracted to Sodom and Gomorrah because of its name. I know I would be," Pam Mocha said. "Maybe that's why the Registrar reports that the Township issues over 100,000 fines a day for public acts of extreme sexual turpitude, even though the population of S & G Township is only 30,000."

"Pam, as you know, a lot of people think we could cut down on these dirty, dirty, albeit delightfully perverse acts by reclassifying them as felonies rather than misdemeanors and raising the fines from a maximum of a two dollars to a hundred dollars."

Everyone in the newsroom and on the TV monitors lining the walls had a big laugh over that one. "Yeah, like who's going to vote 'yes' on that one, Pam?"

"Well, surely some people must leave S & G Township, or our population would be over five million now."

"Pam baby, you are not accounting for the Marquis Murderer, who has been culling the herd most effectively and most deliciously over these recent months and years."

"Why aren't these people ever reported as missing by the outside world?"

"Strangely, the outside world regards these people as psychopathic deviants. Nobody is going to come looking for them any time soon. We're all alone here Pam. Ours is a world unto itself."

"All this talk about the Marquis Killer is making me randy, baby." Pam told her blindingly bright co-host "Come give Mama what she needs."

Todd's cafe au lait co-host again raised his ten-inch shvantz for all the KSEX viewership to behold. She wrapped her delicate fingers with their four-inch razor-sharp nails around his massive staff. She pushed the red button , and the anchor desk retracted, affording the audience the best possible view of the imminent sub-rosa shenanigans.

She pressed the razor sharp tips of her nails into the delicate (albeit callused) skin of her brightly shining co-host's yearning, throbbing lingam, drawing blood.

She slowly pumped this wondrous pillar, opening thin streams of blood in her hand's wake. Todd moaned and arched his back to yield his body completely to his chocolate co-host. Pam Mocha smiled to the TV audience, as shown in the bank of television monitors on the studio's walls. She opened her mouth, to reveal her fearsome teeth, which had long ago been filed into razor-sharp fangs.

The night has a thousand eyes, and all of them were transfixed by Todd's precum as it dribbled down his mighty shaft. He trembled as Pam took its cobra head into her mouth, running her raspy tongue around his yearning, straining cock.

She traced her teeth up and down on Todd's shaft, opening it so that she could feed on its blood. Todd placed his hands on her head to urge her onward as she bobbed up and down on his joystick. Most of the KSEX audience shown in the bank of monitors on the wall were also moving their eyes up and down at this point as if they were watching a vertical tennis match.

Predictably, the monitor showing the face of the viewer that the "nicknamer-in-chief" President of the United States once called "Early Hugo" went suddenly white, as Hugo's predictably premature wad hit the built in camera of his computer dead on.

Pam Mocha lowered her razor-sharp nails to cup Todd's love-orbs. She began to squeeze them, a smile growing on her face, as she asked the audience, "How many of you want me to tear these off right now? Give me a show of hands."

She looked up at the TV monitors. As usual, about 80% raised their hands. Predictably, she spotted the aptly-named Lorena Bobbitt through the surveillance camera over at Dirty Jake's Emporium jumping up and down with both hands raised.

As she needed Todd for next week's shows, she lied to KSEX's primarily sadistic audience as usual, "Well, once again, most of you voted to keep Todd's conjones right where they are."

Todd stood, his jutting organ pointing directly at the bank of TV monitors mounted on the wall of the KSEX newsroom. " Looks like I get to keep it for another week, bitch. But you need to be taught a lesson." He pushed the retraction button on newsroom desk, which promptly reassembled itself. He grabbed his co-anchor by her long platinum straightened hair . He pulled the rip cord and Pamela Mocha's clothes fell off, leaving her to face the KSEX viewership in her birthday suit. And what a birthday suit it was, complete with 34G-cup hooters and the muscle tone of a downhill racer. Her tempting thatch was unshaven, as she knew the KSEX audience was free of pedophiles.

Her nipples were erect, jutting centers of power in her dark brown areolae. Todd pulled his own ripcord and his three-piece suit fell off him, revealing his toned abs, overly-muscled pecs, gigantic quadriceps, and last but certainly not least, his throbbing rock-hard schlong.

He took Pam Mocha by her long silky, straightened pseudo-blonde hair and threw her over the anchor desk. Her delightful chocolate titties spilled over said desk, and most of the KSEX viewers shown in the TV monitors abandoned their own acts of polymorphous perversity to watch the co-hosts' unfolding festival of debauchery. Talk about rating magnets.

Even Mrs. Prudence Hortense Throckmorton, Sodom and Gomorrah's crack librarian, abandoned her eight-way in the stacks to watch ongoing festivities in the KSEX television studio on her smart phone.

Todd lifted Pam and slammed her over the desk, like a miscreant awaiting a good whupping. Who's been a bad girl?"

"I have, master," Todd's coffee-colored co-anchor said, dangling her head, which now joined her currently pendulous and swaying mammoth gazongas, both of which would be the rival of any giant stalactite in our national system of cave parks.

"What did you call me, bitch?"

"I'm sorry, master. I mean massah."

Todd hauled back and rammed his thick ten-incher up to the hilt in his octaroon pseudo-slave.

"Take that you, high yeller jigaboo."

Pam looked back over her shoulder at her trusted co-anchor. "Thank you, massah," she said., "May this humble slave please have another."

"You are a filthy little bitch aren't you? Say it!"

"I'm a filthy little bitch."

"You're a filthy little bitch, what?"

"I'm a filthy little bitch, massah."

"No you're not. You're a honky debutante, a Southern belle about to receive her very first Mandingo."

"Yes, Massah."

"What did you call me?"

"I mean yes, LeBron my ebony buck, please plow my 40 acres. Slam dunk your johnson in my hoop."

At that Todd's teeth seemed to become even whiter. He grabbed his mullato co-host's shoulders and neck. hauled back and rammed his 4-iron into her cup. She shuddered in pleasure as he drove his driver even deeper into the subterranean realms of her green.

"Oh no, Br'er Todd. You stuck in this Tar Baby fo' good. What's we gonna do? What's we gonna do?

"Whatever you do, Massah Todd, please don't throw me on a briar patch, she said. Actually she was secretly hoping he would, as such impalement was one of the few things they hadn't tried yet.

Todd pulled his thick driver from his co-host's coochie with a clearly audible pop.

"Oh that feels better, Massah Todd. Thank you. Ah have always depended on the kindness of strangers."

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn. The problems of two people don't amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world, "Todd said.

"We'll always have Paris," Pam Mocha protested.

"We weren't actually in Paris, you twit. That was all CGI. How big do you think that KSEX's travel budget is? Here, I'll show you. Watch the primary monitor," Pam Mocha's gleaming co-host said.

The brilliantly-toothed co-anchor pushed Pam's head hard down on the anchor desk, withdrew his Mandingo club from her snatch, grabbed her large, anchor-worthy love pillows and squeezed them cruelly as he began to batter his way in and out of her snatch.

"Not tight enough, today, bitch. One too many gang rapes I suspect."

"No, I swear Toddie. "I only did eight gash-bashes last week. No more than a dozen bukakes tops."

"So you've been a very dirty girl. You know what happens to dirty girls around here."

Pam nodded her head as Todd tied a gag around his latte-colored co-host's mouth.

"What happens to dirty girls?"

"May geb rapped in ed in the bam face."

"What did you say? I CAN'T HEAR YOU."

"Mo ge maped in the bam ace"

Todd Christian ripped the gag off of his co-host's mouth. "What did you say?"

"They get raped in the bad place."

"Would you like daddy to rape you in the bad place, little girl"

Pam shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. "No. I mean yes massah. Cornhole this humble servant. Break me on the altar, massah. Dis po' slave wants you to ream her out. Every which way but loose. I'll wait for you to get a piledriver if you need it, massah."

"How dare you suggest that I need a construction machine to rip you apart. Have you not seen my own mighty tool," Todd said, as he stepped to the side to afford the KSEX viewers a better view of his prodigious shaft. There were multiple gasps in the TV monitors arrayed on the newsroom wall.

"Take this, you filthy bitch," he said as rammed her butthole, but failed to gain entrance on the first attempt.

"Thank you sir, may I please have another."

Todd reached around her waist, seeking the sweet bud of her clit. He began to massage it slowly, driving his partner crazy as he increased his pace. He rammed into her hard, filling her colon to a depth of ten inches.

Pam's eyes bugled out like Bugs Bunny on a bad day and smoke came out of her ears.

"See that, motherfuckers. That's what I'm talking about, CGI. Nothin' but computer-generated fucking Imagery" He drove his shaft a few dozen more times into Pam's helpless and seemingly unconscious body. "I think this slit has had enough," he told the KSEX audience.

All of a sudden, a hologram of Stanley Milgram appeared, he of the classic obedience experiment universally taught in intro psych courses. "You must continue to fuck her," he told Todd.

"Whatever you say, doc," Todd said" but she seems unconscious to me."

"You must follow my directions, or the experiment will be ruined."

"But she's unconscious. "

"She wasn't unconscious when she signed the consent form," the pseudo-Milgram apparition told Todd. "You must continue, or the experiment will be invalid. I will take full responsibility."

"OK doc, here goes," Toss said as he rammed his Emmy-award-winning mega-tallywacker up to the hilt in his chocolate co-host's bum.

"Uggh," Pam Mocha said, and then almost inaudibly added "oomph."

Todd looked up at the ghost of Stanley Milgram, awaiting further instructions.

"Jackhammer number nine," the specter said.

"Number nine? that's a lethal blow. It is forbidden, even over at Dirty Jake's Emporium." Todd protested."

"You must continue. This experiment has been thoroughly vetted by KSEX's Ethics Committee."

"KSEX has an Ethics Committee?" Todd said in disbelief. "OK Doc, here goes," Todd said as his highly trained shaft began to thrust in and our of her body at lightning speed, a trick he learned from lamas in Tibet and from one hypersexual yeti.

He shoved his oscillating shlong up to the hilt into Pam's welcoming ass, and soon her seemingly unconscious body was vibrating in resonance with Todd's piston. She cried out weakly

"See doc, she's out."

"She may be out, but she's still an anal sex fiend and a gamer, that one."

"Todd couldn't argue with that, and set his steel-hard boner into rotation mode.

Pam Mocha' s only response was a soft grunt.

"See doc, she's out," Todd pleaded with the Milgram fiend.

"You must continue," the specter said. "Your KSEX contract requires it."

Todd gave a half-hearted thrust into his co-host's seemingly lifeless body.

"The power of Christ compels you."

No response.

"God himself commands you."

"I'm an atheist myself, doc. Are you saying that God wants me to become a necrophiliac?"

"The ghost of Hef commands you. The ghost of Guccione compels you."

"Fuck God and fuck you. I'm not going to hit that any more," Todd told the Milgram thing and rolled off the seeming corpse of Pam Mocha.

The apparent stiff then spoke. "Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you Todd?. "I was just about to cum, you useless , impotent loser.

"Which way is the Caligula Room?" she asked. Four people pointed down the corridor.

MEANWHILE BACK AT THE EMPORIUM

Li Bangbang was chained on the Wheel of Woe, sunny side up with the ex-Cowboy Ed "Too Long" Jones's schlong buried up to the hilt in her snatch. She felt her pelvis being stretched further with each of his thrusts. She looked up and down at the ever-changing rollercoaster that was the Wheel of Woe.

Too Long climbed the wheel to feel Li Bangbang's delightful chink melons against his naked chest. His mega-shaft grew even longer inside of her body. As he increased the tempo of his thrusts, the wheel to which she was chained began to rotate. She tried to match the former Cowboy defensive end thrust to thrusts, but once again she was denied her release by the caller of the dance.

"Alamade left and dosido," longtime caller Hayseed Pickins demanded. A hologram of a toothless Gabby Hayes clapped his hands and stomped his foot in time with the music.

Li Bangbang did not know the names of these maneuvers, but that was not a problem as she was completely chained to the Wheel of Woe. The ever-adjusting rollercoaster took care of them for her.

"Swing your partner," Hayseed Pickens called, and the rollercoaster rearranged itself so that each woman was confronted with her husband's ass. In LI Bangbang's case, said ass belonged to her longtime partner, Percy "Cuckolded a Lot" Browneye. Each wife was expected eat out their hubby's cornhole, grab them by their gluteus maximus , and shove them in and out of their neighbor's snatch, with the assistance of the swift adjustments of the track itself. To avoid a shock through the metal grid of the roller coaster, the women had to give their hubbies the best rim jobs in recorded history. Of course, this was achieved through the electrodes implanted in the wives' brains, which enabled their surgically-elongated tongues to thrust in and out of their better halves' asses at an appreciable fraction of the speed of light.

Percy Browneye looked back at Li in deep appreciation, much like a dog being scratched on its ass and giving its owner an appreciative glance..

Hayseed Pickens called, "Crush cojones, and a peppermint twist." All the wives grabbed their hubbies 'nads, squeezed them viciously, and twisted them.

"Milk 'em hard and spew 'em left." Pickens called. Leaving their hubbies' testicles in the upright and contorted position, the wives began to slide their fingers up and down their spouses' rock- hard shafts. They then began to pump them harder and faster. Each time a guy came, he let out a painful howl as his wife gave him the final pump de grace. Despite the extreme pain, most hubbies appeared to be deeply grateful for receiving even a glimmer of pleasure.

DISMOUNT

The rollercoaster track contorted, and everyone was summarily dumped upon the sawdust floor of the Dirty Jake's Emporium of Pain and Pleasure and Sushi and Wheatgrass Bar complex.