BLUNDER BROAD IN HOLLYWOOD Part III By E.N.Cuire If you've followed the story so far, I guess you wont want to read another disclaimer so, let's get on with it... When we last saw Blundie, she was on her knees. Again. And suffering under the stuffing of her sublime *Self* as a human toilet, not among her favorite passtimes. She'd been here before, however and the long suffering Heroine had to suffer this degredation once again. The van finally seemed to have finished it's rounds and Blundie was filthied from all the time she spent on the floor. Her red boots and gloves were now a bownish yellow, as was the leatherubber of her wonderful outfit and her mouth tasted like just that. Shit. "Come on Girls and Boys... Time to go to a nice cold lockup 'till the Judge has time for you...?" This from the Officer who'd just opened the rear doors of the paddywagon. "Yee-u-u-uchh..." He added when he got a look at Blundie and she'd affected his orfactory senses. "It's you to the showers, Whore..." Two matrons took charge of Blunder Broad after donning rubber aprons, latex gloves and rubber boots. Both carried huge truncheons that should have sent warning signals through Blundie. She was just too spent to notice such things and marched beween them on legs as rubbery as the material of the boots she was wearing. "Get into that shower, whore and wash all that off you... Make sure you scrub well. We'll do a cavity search after the shower..." And so Blundie found herself in a shower. Again. The water was scalding hot and she shied back from it only to get a truncheon or two across her oft knocked knockers. "Get in there, you 'ho' and get that outfit off of you..." "Outfit doesn't come off..." Sobbed Blundie while holding her tits. "Really... It doesn't..." Just the excuse the two matrons needed to apply the truncheons over every part of the Blunderful form her hands could not protect. Slowly, she inched back into the deluge of scalding water. At least her outfit was coming clean although Blundie felt ready to swear off lobsters for life. She was instructed to open her zippers and use the strong lye soap on as much of her oppulent body as she could. Now that she was covered by soapsuds in and out, the matrons made sure that the rinsing she'd receive would be as close to freezing as the shower could go. Then they moved forward again and threw Blundie up against the cold tile and two latex gloved hands started an exploration Blundie sure didn't appreciate. "This one's built like two caverns..." One exclaimed as Blundie's greedy puss swallowed a latex hand past the wrist. "She could be hiding a trove of trash up here..." "Wonder how deep she's built..." Said one, taking the shorter handle of her nightstick and feeding it up her own puss. She then bade her partner to help Blundie bend over and rammed forward into Blundie's smaller, winking orifice bringing a bleat from the sufferer as pain and degredation again found her. She cried as she was plumbed. Again. She howled as the matron went for the deep. And deeper. "Commodious, this one... She's swallowed fourteen inches already..." Blundie wasn't proud. Not as if she didn't realize that many pluggings had proven just how commodious she was but an Amazon would never admit to pride in something like this. Sobbing, she orgasmed and almost dropped off the prod which then got replaced by another, that of the other matron. "Dont think she'll tell the warden about this, do you?" Asked the one, not really caring... "Nah..." Replied the other as she tried to rearrange Blundie's plumbing. "Her word against ours..." "May... Lenora... The big broad's been sprung..." Came a shout from down the hallway suddenly. The two matrons busied themselves by throwing towels at Blundie and telling her to dry off. T'was Blundies new agent who'd come down to file a missing Person report and had explained that Blundie was no whore. Oh yes, she fucked like a rabbit but, didn't every new Starlet in town? Blundie found herself freed without even getting her picture taken and out on the streets again. "Just drop me at my motel. Please..." She said a little huffily. "I want to sleep for twenty four hours and dont want to hear from you until then..." Thus, the beautiful Dana got to bed for a few hours shuteye before hunger (Hey, Amazons are BIG and need regular sustenance) finally woke her up. "Darn... " She said. "It's still raining and it's night again... Guess I'd best be off to Mac 'D's' and get some food..." She felt splendid. Her body, as always, had repaired itself from the damage of the previous day and, once she'd eaten, she felt just great. She decided a stroll down Hollywood Boulevard was what her muscles needed and was soon up on that street that, at night, turns into the druggie Capital of the World. (Or, at least California) Knowing no better, Blundie appreciated the wolf whistles she was drawing and was amuzed as car after car came to a halt curbside to offer her a ride. Cars were getting scarce byt this hour because most would be Johns had realised that the hookers who normally frequent the Boulevard had taken the night off. Seeing a couple of Hondas abandoned to flooded engines Two Rangerovers pulled to the curb a half block ahead and Blundie, her senses honed from years of crimefighting felt the hair rise on the back of her neck (A feat in itself taking the heavy blueblack mane of hair). "Something's afoot and that something's no good... *I* will show them how the real Blunder Broad operates... *I* will show them the real Blunder Broad..." There was a crime in progress. Typically, it was at a Sporting Goods store where one could expect to find all manner of firearms and where gangs went to equip themselves so well. Blundie rushed on toward the Store with her usual disregard for the dangers presented, slipped due her high heels and somehow remained upright and charging at the forced open doors. She'd failed to take not that two of the miscreants seemed to have dissappeared into thin air as she charged in. "*I* am Blunder Broad and you're all under arrest- OO-o- o-f-f-f" Two lengths of wood commonly known as Louisville Sluggers came into explosive contact with the back of Blundie's noggin and Blundie went to booted knees, a position she was becoming accustomed to. The battering didn't stop there as the two powerful perps continued in an attempt to part Blundie's head from her shoulders. Lucky (or perhaps not) for Blundie, the new baseball bats had a penchant for breaking when hitting at awkward angles. Non the less, she was on a slow motion collapse onto the muddy floor. When Blundie started coming out of her slumber, she moaned aloud with a migraine of headaches. "Not tonight, Gala..." She uttered before realizing it was not a dido worn by her bestest buddy that was stuffingly filling her. Bleary of eyes she looked up to see an almost empty firearm cabinet. She closed her eyes adn opened them again only to have a dastardly face staring down into hers. "Sir Dastardly..." She exclaimed before realizing this had to be a dream. The dream, however, turned into a nightmare as she realized that, yes, Sir Dastardly was indeed staring into her visage. The only Man Blundie actually feared. "Well, well, well... We DO meet in the most unusual places..." Blundie looked around fearing that Das' old partner might be with him. The only Woman who'd succeded in enslaving Blundie and one Blundie hated to meet again. "Hey, gang..." Smiled Das with a huge grin. "We've got us America's prime Patsy as a hostage... Please see she gets the best of rope treatment right away, she just LOVES that stuff... And, while you're at it, stuff something in that mouth of hers. She gets a little loud at times..." "Go-o-o-mph..." Objected Blundie as a plastic Evian bottle was rammed into her mouth and then lashed there with a roll of best silver duct tape. "G-a-a-a-g-hhhhh" She went as Montana, a former Rodeo roping champion swiftly surrounded Blundie's limbs in a hogtie then pullde on the ropes so as to strain the Amazon's back and shoulders to almost a dislocation point. More laps of rope went around her humungous boobs now, cutting into breastmeat despite it's rubber protection. "Go-w-l-lie" Stated Montana. "These thangs 'r sure nice to play with... Let's ee if I can get ropes around their middles..." Working as an expert will, Montana succeded in bifurcationg Amazon beastmass before the breasts had a chance to harden from the bonds at their bases and Blundie, again, was undergoing the intense pain provided by the lack of circulation through those appendages. Expertly, Montana added a final tie that would bow the Amazon's back even further by ropes over her offensive gag. "Come, my dear... Stop playing with the package and get it out to the cars..." "Boss..." Said Montana. "This 'uns a ball to play with... Look how far I've got her bent over..." "Hey, Boss... Where you gonna put that package... Both cars are full with only room for us..." "Aw, shucks..." Said Montana. "We used ta tie deer on the front bumper when we went huntin' back home all a' the time..." So saying, Montana picked up her package and carried it out to the waiting Rangerovers with apparent ease. Withnease, too, she proved how a heiffer or a dear could be lashed top the front end of an SUV and, as the sounds of sirens started to be heard, the gang boarded their conveyances and departed. It cant be said that Blundie enjoyed her first tour of California from this vantage. The ropes around her breasts seemd to tighten at every bump while she was awash on the detrius from the wet roadway. Then, too, was the roping between her long legs that moved against her everwidening snatch as the vehicle continued to roll. And, to make things worse, her attempts to free her mouth of it's gag had turned on the spiggot top so water was now trickling down her throat while every jounce pained her aching joints that felt like they must leave theri sockets at the next bump. In pain, degraded and stimulated, Blundie shuddered in orgasm which served to tighten her bonds even further. It is probable that Blundie would not know that the area she was transported to was close to the Spawn Ranch, famed because of a chappie named Charlie Manson. If she had, she would have felt in about the same peril as some of his victims. However, she was awash and a bundle of raw nerves by the time they'd forded several washes that drove her deep into the icy water at each and arrived at the run down town that looked like it lived up to it's reputation as "Ghost". She was allowed to hang there, dripping, while both Rangerovers were unloaded and the weapons moved into a large barn. She did worry when Montana approached with a bowie knife and sliced through the roping like butter so Blundie could squelch down on the muddy ground. She hit so hard the water bottle blew out from between her lips. "Oooofff" "What we goin' ta do with this 'un?" Asked a voice Blundie didn't recognize. "The Boss said she's open season... Said he knows her from the past and she loves to be abused..." "Came to the right place, then..." Said the big Blond with the short hair. "Lovely job you done with tham tits..." "C'mon... Let's dump her in the cess pool for now..." "Naw. Then we'd got to give her a bath before we get our jollies. Milkin' shed is more like it..." "Kay..." Said Montana before hefting the package on her shouilders. "Milkin' shed it is..." Blundie whimpered. She'd been in milking sheds before, way way back, her first encounters with Das had set her on a course of lactation after manipulation that had oft proved to be an embarasment to her. She was not at all glad to see that much of the equipment was similar to improved equipment Das had managed to get from some Aliens and used on Blundie before. Then, too, she noted that this was a working ranch of sorts and, lo, cows were already congrigating for their morning flush. "Damn that night went fast..." Commented Montana, hardly winded from carrying the still bound package. "Time to milk the herd already... Hate these night jobs and hate the city even worse.." Blundie could have cared less about Montana's likes and dislikes. She just wanted her bonds loosened and to get up on her two feet again. She'd also like to get out of here right now but neither wish was about to be granted. "Das said to get her in the braces... " Said Mona, the Blond. "Better do what he says then we can have some fun with her..." Blundie found her neck surrounded by the metal piping that held cows heads while they were milked and then, her gloved arms still bound behind her, found her breasts freed of the bonds, the usual, painful replacement of blood hurting so much it practically got her to her knees. "Aw... Come on... Surely we can start the machine without Das..." Exclaimed Mona, licking her lips and longing to see the Superheroine in distress. "We'll call him once the machine's going..." "No... Please..." Managed Blundie as a first cup was applied to a huge nipple. "Not my breasts, not my beautiful breasts again..." The kind of music any self respecting sadist would love. Mona got the first transparent milking cup well weated and went on to the second before nodding to Montana to hit the switch. That turned the machine on and turned on Blundie as we might know it would. Suction started right away and started drawing huge nips into the cups with much more force than Blundie had experienced before. She just knew she'd loose those nipples she loved so much this time. This time, Das and his new cronies would surely destroy her... "Oh, damn... It's the Boss..." Went Montana with a trace of fear. "D'you think we exceded his wishes?" Das had, indeed, arrived, bringing with him the twenty guys who'd been helping offload the weapons plus another ten girls, the hangers on to the gang. "You sarted without us..." He said with a threat. Suddenly, he was smiling and seemed quite content. Blundie, suffering, had that effect on him. "O'kay, she's not giving... Turn up the suction..." "I'm trying... I'm TRYING..." went Blundie to herself as a tear corsed down a cheek. The increase of suction and manipulation was already causing her greater distress. "Guys..." Announced Das with magnamity. "That's a Worldclass ass... Use it in good health..." "Thanks, Boss..." "Thanks" "Yeah, thanks Boss..." And the sounds of unzipping Blundie knew well. She was quickly and painfully plugged in Das' favorite spot and attempted to thrash around to rid herself of the monster that had just invaded her. The big cowboy,built like Roy's Trigger and a Rodeo Bronk Buster held on tight and let the Heroine do the work, soon having her slow into a more accepting rythm that brought him to humungous proportion and to a blasting of Blundie's deepest intestines. She realized she had succeded in defiling her own *self* and shed another tear as she was reskewered. "Good going... It always takes a little manipulation to make her lactate and lookie there... The cow's giving..." Blundie had never been fond of Das' snide remarks and this time was no exception. However, she was giving, just like her enemy said and nipples had changed hue to the color Das loved to see. A mottled purple and some six inches long already. Will Blundie survive the milking? You'll have to tune in again when the next part of this story comes to 'life'...