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Peach's Bad Day	By : agroofus Category: +S through Z > Super Mario Brothers Views: 22711 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own the Mario franchise nor any of its characters, nor am I making any money off this silly little enterprise.

Chapter List
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Bowser came lumbering into the room and undid her bonds. There was no way she was going to stand on her own, with the kind of pain she was in, so she just lolled in his grip while he fastened her manacles again and manhandled her out of the room, kicking the heavy door shut behind him with one clawed foot. He carried her through the corridors of the castle with a weird gentleness, cradling her to his chest, allowing her to recuperate a bit before her next hurdle. She seemed to be close to losing consciousness, and he didn’t like it – Kamek had assured him that the spell would also keep Peach from fainting, but this stupor she was in was almost like that, and Bowser wanted her to feel every little prick on her beautifully bruised tits.

He carried her to another room, its ceiling lost in darkness, the only source of light a pool of lava at the far end of the room. Two Lakitus, looking expectant, where hovering about the room; when Bowser entered, carrying the stupefied princess, their expressions turned into malicious leers. Peach, who had regained her senses on the way there, looked up at them and felt black fear gnawing at her stomach. They were carrying fishing rods, which they now cast out, dangling some heavy, shiny objects on strong lines.

As they came closer, Peach realized what the objects were. She struggled weakly, her eyes round and terrified, her gaze fixed on the heavy-duty clamps in the shape of Chain Chomps. “No, god, please, no…” she whispered, straining to get away from the things. Bowser held her securely, relishing her terror as the Lakitus drifted eagerly nearer. He freed one of his hands, grasping one of the clamps out of the air and clipping it unceremoniously on Peach’s nipple.

The princess’s reaction was instantaneous. She screamed silently for a moment before the sound came – a raw, ragged cry of primal hurt. Her entire body tensed, her eyes opened huge and round. The teeth of the Chomp clamp dug brutally into the tender helpless flesh of her nipples. It was designed not to let go. It bit deep. Bowser grabbed the other one dangling in front of him, clipping it on Peach’s remaining nipple, eliciting a new burst of tortured howling from the princess, connecting each of the princess’s tits to one of the floating Lakitus. And then, he let go.

The Lakitus were strong and sat securely in their clouds, holding on to their rods with firm grips. The clamps bit and didn’t let go, even lifting Peach’s entire weight between them. Peach was suspended a foot above the floor, her tits stretched out by the nipples, unfathomable, impossible pain bursting through her tits and making stars explode inside her eyes. She was in shards, in tatters, she was breaking, she was dying… and still, she was so horribly aware, so mercilessly there. Not even her mind could escape for a few minutes. She was trapped in her body – trapped in hell.

As Bowser stood back to watch, the Lakitus slowly circled about each other, turning the princess one hundred and eighty degrees until she was facing the lava pool on the other side of the room. Bowser marvelled at her in the burning light – her body was drenched in sweat and seemed to glow, and every tensed muscle in her body stood out in sharp relief. She was quite beautiful, and her pain made her even more so. A burst of excited steam hissed from Bowser’s nostrils as he growled, “Begin.”

At his command, a Podoboo – a lava bubble – burst from the burning pool. It was a strange half-creature, composed entirely of the red-hot substance it lived in, but intelligent enough to obey the Koopa King’s commands. With impeccable aim, it arced through the air and burst on Princess Peach’s right tit. Peach shook spasmodically and gave an abyssal howl that echoed long after the lava had splashed off her. The second her scream trailed off, a second Podoboo came jumping out of the pool, splashing straight into her cleavage and dripping off onto the floor. Their jumps were controlled, careful; only Peach’s tits were splashed with the molten liquid. The rest of her vulnerable body was left quite unharmed.

Not that Peach felt unharmed. The lava was searing, molten, terrible. It was beyond pain – her nerves screamed at her, telling her to get away, to flee. Of course, she couldn’t. She had to hang there immobile by her tits, hanging by the cruel metal teeth mauling her nipples as the Podoboos showered her mammaries with awful, bottomless anguish. She couldn’t even hear if she was screaming anymore (she was, of course) – she only heard her blood rushing in her ears, only felt the searing, sizzling heat that by all means should have cooked her tits, and felt like it was. She twisted in midair as more and more of the lava bubbles burst from the pool, dousing her tits. She tried to free her hands, tried to do something, anything… but it was no use.

Finally, after a long while, Bowser stepped in, raising his hand and cutting the treatment short. The Lakitus, at his command, obediently lifted the tortured princess away from the pool, setting her down at a safe distance so she wouldn’t collapse and fall into the molten lava. Trying to make the most of the few seconds they had left torturing her, the Lakitus cruelly jerked their fishing rods, sending Peach dangling nervelessly by her nipples. She moaned feebly, scarcely having enough energy to make a sound but consumed by agony nonetheless. Bowser brought her down onto the floor and undid the clamps, once again letting her collapse onto her tits. This was the third time, and her tits were ever more brutally tortured for each time he did it; this time, it took Peach five minutes to recover enough to focus her eyes.

Bowser was watching her impassively. “Stand up,” he commanded her. She whimpered, shaking her head. “Stand up,” he repeated, forcibly but not angrily. Sobbing, Peach realized again that there was nothing she could do. Her helplessness struck her as hard every time. Her best bet was still obeying Bowser; there was the chance, however slim, that he might be merciful. She struggled to stand. It was hard, in her current state and with her arms manacled behind her back. She got to her knees, sobbing piteously, her every move sending her tits jostling, sending bolts of terrible pain through her entire system. She laboriously got to her feet, only for her knees to give out. She fell forward, realizing with bottomless black horror that there was nothing she could do – she was going to hit the floor again, tits first, at full force.

Only, suddenly, there were strong hands on her shoulders, breaking her fall. Her tits still bounced painfully, but it was nothing against having them crushed beneath her weight. She looked up through tearful eyes, saw Bowser looking down at her, holding her up, and she flooded with sudden, absurd, but very real gratitude. “Th-thank you,” she whispered, breaking down in anguished sobs at the situation, at the terrible crazy turn her life had taken. Was it true? Were Mario and Luigi dead? What would happen to her then? The answer was terribly clear, even as the question passed through her mind. This was what would happen to her, forever. She would be entirely at Bowser’s mercy, and no end in sight.

Bowser lifted her up gently, setting her on her feet and holding her shoulders for many minutes, until he was certain that she could stand by herself. Then he bade her come, gently, and turned, opening the door of the room and exiting out into the corridor.

Peach followed him mutely, crying quietly. She should have been suspicious at his sudden gentle treatment of her, but she was so addled, so hurt – her every step, however careful she was, was terrible – so confused and lost and terrified. She simply followed obediently. Some of the castle guards jeered at her, but she ignored them. She was just so tired. Perhaps it was over now? Perhaps that was why Bowser was so kind to her? Perhaps she had passed some kind of test? That must be it. She asked him.

“Is it over?” her voice was childish, and she looked at him with huge, round, blue eyes. “Did I do good?”

The dragon turned to her with a paternal smile on his huge features. “You did great, princess. It’s over now.”

She broke down crying from the relief. It was really over. No more pain. He motioned her to him. “You can rest in here.” He indicated a heavy door like any other in the castle, then asked her to turn around. She did, gingerly, moving as little as possible to spare her breasts, and he undid her manacles, first around her wrists and then, bending down low, around her ankles. He opened the door and ushered her through it, following after her.

This new room was bare, like the others, and quite small. There was a small pit, about a square foot, filled with bubbling lava. Around it, there were four manacles – two against the wall, whose chains were short, and two on its other side, out towards the room, with chains a few feet long. In the opposite wall, there was a horizontal slit about a foot wide a couple of feet up from the floor, which opened into a shadowy space.

Peach looked at the lava and knew. Her stomach dropped what felt like several feet, horror and panic blacked out her vision, her gorge threatened to rise. There would be no rest, no mercy, only more pain. She had been tricked. She turned blindly to flee, but achieved only smacking into Bowser’s wall-like belly, tits first. She shrieked in sudden agony and staggered backwards, and would have fallen backwards over the lava pit had Bowser not darted forward and grabbed her around the waist.

As Bowser held her firmly, she broke down, sobbing, head against his stomach. “Please, please,” she cried, her voice thick. “Don’t, please don’t!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!” Bowser didn’t respond, only gently twisting her around so she was standing against the wall, the lava pit a couple of feet in front of her, the slit in the wall opposite of her. He bent down and clapped the manacles with the short chains around her ankles. Then, he lifted up the manacles with the longer chains and fastened them around her wrists. She would be able to move her hands, but she could not lift them higher than about to her waist. Peach didn’t struggle. She seemed broken; she only cried weakly, silently, tears running down her face in a steady stream.

Then he stood back in the corner by the door, roaring, “SNIFITS!” in his best drill sergeant’s voice. Out of the shadows beyond the slit in the wall, five masked Snifits emerged and stood in a line. They regarded the princess silently out of dark eyeholes. Bowser turned to Peach, whose shoulders were heaving with silent sobs.

“Now, princess, you are going to be of service to my kingdom.” Peach didn’t react, didn’t give any sign that she’d heard. Bowser went on, “these Snifits are in need of some target practice, and I judge your tits are just the right size.” Now Peach reacted, turning to him wide-eyed, shaking her head pleadingly, but he just responded with a cruel smile. “You don’t like it? Well, luckily for you, princess, I’m going to give you an alternative.”

He saw, laughably, a sudden hope well up in the princess’s eyes. Stifling a laugh, he continued, “if you want target practice to end, all you’ve got to do … is to dip your titties in the lava.”

Peach sagged and exhaled as if she’d been struck in the stomach. She gave a hopeless, horrified little wail and looked up at him again, her blue eyes wide and tearful, as if she might see that he was joking. He met her gaze coolly, a small smile twisting his lips. There was no joke. He was serious. “It’s up to you, princess. Either you let the Snifits use you for target practice or you dunk your tits in there.”

Peach was silent for a few moments more, and then opened her mouth to beg: “no, please—”

“Snifits,” Bowser interrupted her forcefully, grabbing her by the hair and holding her firmly upright. “Fire at will.”

The Snifits fired immediately, with cruel precision. A heavy black bullet shot out of each of the mouth holes of their masks and travelled through the room with enough speed to nearly be invisible. By all rights, the projectiles should have pierced the princess’s body and exited through her back. Instead, impervious as her tits were, the bullets hit them all at once with a chorus of resounding cracks, deforming the pliant flesh and bouncing off, rolling across the floor or sinking into the lava. Peach howled in animal pain and struggled against the manacles and Bowser’s grip, pulling painfully at her hair, shaking her brutalized tits and sending all-new jolts of pain through them.

After the first, concentrated barrage, the Snifits began firing randomly, always with impeccable aim, launching the heavy slugs at brutal speeds at Peach’s target titties. Peach didn’t, couldn’t think, it was all too much – she was caught up in a huge, roiling sea of agony, which washed away every conscious thought and left only a wordless, frantic, primal thought ringing in her mind: make it stop. Make it stop. Please, god, please, anyone, make it stop.

But it didn’t, not until much later, when she heard a deep voice speak. She couldn’t make sense of its words: “Cease fire.” But the constant, torturing barrage finally, mercifully, stopped. Blessed silence filled the room as the sharp cracks of the bullets hitting her poor tortured mammaries echoed away into nothingness. She hung in Bowser’s grip, the pain of her pulled hair lost in the insane throbbing agony of her tits. She came to slowly, over the span of minutes, eventually becoming aware of her surroundings… and her predicament.

As she began struggling weakly again, she heard Bowser’s voice in her ear. “The deal still stands.” He said nothing more, and gazing down at the bubbling lava she understood what he meant. Her bowels contracted with fear – not that, please, not that. It was too much. She’d wanted the Snifits to stop their target practice at any cost, but this… no. She shook her head weakly, knowing what she was condemning herself to, crying silently, hot tears running down her face. Bowser’s voice made her sob loudly with terror as he commanded: “Snifits – fire at will.”

It was twice as bad, ten times, a hundred times this time around. The bullets hailed down on her, sending incessant, white-hot lances of pain into her tits and throughout her entire system. Again, her mind shut down, that tortured animal voice gibbering in her mind again: please, no, please, stop. She couldn’t hear herself screaming obscenities as the endless barrage of slugs rained down on her boobs, sending her abused titflesh into a frenzied, crazy dance which didn’t end as more and more of the projectiles kept coming.

After many minutes, Bowser once again commanded the Snifits to stop firing, and held the princess until he deemed her conscious enough to speak. “Have you come to your senses yet, my dear princess?” he asked smoothly, his voice scarcely more than a rumble. Once again, Peach slowly understood what he was saying as her eyes wearily focused on the lava pit. She whimpered piteously, closing her eyes and willing the whole situation away. It was just a terrible nightmare, it had to be. These sorts of things couldn’t happen in reality. It was unreal.

Except it wasn’t. It was still there when she opened her eyes. She whimpered, weakly, shaking her head as best she could, suspended as she was by her hair. But when Bowser once again spoke up in his commanding voice, saying: “Snifits—” … something within her snapped. “NO!” she screamed in panic, her whole body tense and shaking. Droplets of sweat stood out on her skin. “NO, I’LL DO IT, I’LL DO IT!” Bowser, grinning manically, released her immediately, causing her to fall down painfully (though the pain in her jiggling tits was far, far worse) on her knees on the stone floor.

Peach became aware of the heat radiating from the lava, and the black terror seized her again. She thought of the Snifits hailing bullets on her poor tits, placed her hands on the raised rim around the lava pit and, without giving herself time to think, plunged her tits down into the molten liquid.

Instantly, an agony bigger than the world consumed her. She recoiled, and would’ve pulled her tits out of the lava pit in a second if it weren’t for the huge, scaled hand between her shoulder blades, holding her down firmly. She thrashed, screaming wordlessly, howling in a pain worse than death which never seemed to end. Seconds stretched out into eternities as she was held down, her tits submerged in the molten lava. It was like the Podoboos splashing on her boobs, but at least then she’d been allowed some short second of mercy between each red-hot burst on her titflesh. This was all-encompassing and ceaseless.

Bowser sat over her, holding her down with one hand, the other scooping her hair out of the way so it wouldn’t catch fire. The lava reflected in his mad burning eyes and he licked his lips as he watched the anguished princess writhing and screaming. Her screams were music to his ears – he didn’t think he’d ever tire of this. Nonetheless, after some minutes he felt compelled to ease his hold, allowing the princess, howling like a wounded animal, to jerk herself out of the red-hot pit. He held her a second more, allowing the last of the lava to drip off her tits before he let her fall over backwards on her ass, sputtering and hyperventilating. There were blisters around her chest area where Kamek had smeared the power star salve, but the impervious area itself was miraculously unharmed, unmarred except for the piebald, purplish bruisescape across Princess Toadstool’s tits, which would’ve been sickening to behold if it hadn’t been so beautiful.

Peach gibbered wordlessly where she sat, her arms limp at her sides, her head slowly shaking back and forth. Bowser sat back on the floor and watched her, smiling slightly. He decided to give her a few moments’ rest before continuing with the torture. It was no fun if she wasn’t there, after all.
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Peach's Bad Day