In the early decades following the Biowar, the news media observed a voluntary blackout on the troubles while scientists worked feverishly, but to no avail, for a solution. It didn't matter. Everyone was seeing grade school classrooms with 39 girls to every boy, and everyone knew this meant there was a serious problem. For the girls, as they passed puberty, these problems were immediate and personal, and their answers were visceral, they assembled themselves into "girl gangs" that preyed on young men. Not infrequently, the male victims of these gangs were killed; either by exhaustion, out of frustration when they could no longer perform, and in some cases literally torn to pieces by competitive young girls. Given the extreme scarcity of men governments were justifiably alarmed, the public was panicked, and laws were quickly passed mandating the death penalty for girls associated with the gangs. In those days the profits and benefits associated with public and televised executions had not yet been accepted, and the markets for human flesh as food did not yet exist. In most places the executions, often euphemistically referred to as "euthanasia" since the girls were presumed to be victims of circumstance, were carried out in old ways, commonly in seclusion and by lethal injection. Even then, though, the benefits of public executions with "color" were beginning to be understood in some places, especially when the victims were noticeably attractive.
These ideas would spread, very quickly.
I joke around and laugh a lot when I'm anxious. A lot of people do. It's a way to cope, I guess.
Some of the girls sitting on the bench are joking with me, but our laughter is a little too loud and a little too high-pitched. You can hear the fear in the tension of our voices.
Some of the girls are annoyed by our laughter, especially the ones praying.
A couple of the girls are crying. Not gentle weeping, but full-out terrified sobbing--their eyes red, wet, and swollen, snot shiny on their upper lips and their lips wet with drool.
I figure, what's the point? The law is the law and there's no way to escape it. Trust me--I know. I tried, you see. I got as far as the Oregon border and they brought me back in the back of a hot airless van, me and a dozen other girls packed in tight with our wrists cuffed to a long chain.
I thought for sure that the Magistrate would have sent me straight to the processing centre to be euthanized by injection and I heard that it's a horrible way to go, so I was really scared. A guy who used give me extra rations to fuck me was one of the Deputies on the Dispatch Team there, and he told me that the women are strapped down and injected and they really squirmed and writhed in pain as the toxins worked through their bodies. He told me that some said they got a harsh metallic taste in their mouths before they started foaming and puking and shitting themselves. I was terrified of going out that way.
I guess the Magistrate thought I was cute--and I am *grin*. Maybe I reminded him of an old girlfriend or his daughter or something. But whatever the reason, he let me choose. I chose the public beach show. I knew the methods they used down here were pretty grim, and they do it for the entertainment of the crowd, and I thought, 'What the hell--if I'm going to die, why not at the beach?'
And it is a beautiful day. Blue sky with some fluffy clouds, a cool breeze blowing in from the Pacific, company of other girls while we wait our turns. A lot of the gathered crowd are muscle-beach kind of guys and their girls--lots of tanned skin on hard bodies showing--so I'll have a choice of what my last visions will be, the blue Pacific surf or hot guys and girls getting off on us being put down.
The girl up there right now is Cindi. She's on her knees with her hands tied behind her back. One of the Dispatch Deputies is kneeling behind her with his arms around her and she's laid her head back against his left shoulder like they are lovers. He's wearing a rubber apron. It would be a sweet sexy scene if it wasn't for the knife he's holding in both his hands and pulling up into her lower belly.
Cindi grunts every time he pulls up hard on the knife--its blade must be eight inches long and he keeps changing the angle, pulling it up into her belly deeper each time. It's buried right to the hilt now and Cindi makes this wet grunt as he tugs it deeper, compressing her belly. If it wasn't for the knife in her belly, the sounds she's making would have sounded very sexual. Hell, maybe they are.
"You go, girl!" I call out to her. "Take it deep, Cindi."
Some of the other girls laugh, some scowl. Leah, who's sitting beside me, elbows me playfully in the ribs as she laughs.
"You're horrible." But she's smiling as she says it, then she leans close to me. "I'm taking the knife too. Do you think there's anything sexual about it? I mean she does sound..."
"Like she's being fucked?" I ask, looking at Leah's face. Leah's eyes are twinkling and locked on Cindi's quivering body and you can see she's trying to imagine what it must feel like.
"Maybe she is getting off on it," I say softly, hoping it's true. Leah shivers despite the sun heating our naked bodies.
The Deputy tugs hard on the knife and we see it slip up a bit higher. Cindi gags, and her belly clenches. Her lower lip curls and it looks like she's going to puke for a second and her lips get shiny with bright blood. But she swallows it back down and lets out a shuddering groan.
"Oooo--right in the bread basket," Leah says and we laugh.
Then the Deputy tugs upward again and for sure he penetrates her heart because Cindi's head flops forward and she whimpers "...oh?" like she's disappointed, then goes limp in his arms.
The crowd applauds even though it's tacky to do so, but they're beach party types and most have been drinking. A couple of other Deputies climb up onto the stage with a body bag and they take Cindi away.
A new Dispatch Deputy climbs up on the stage as others assemble the chin-up bar and spit.
"Kristi Powell-Brandt," he calls out in his official cop-voice and I feel my stomach sink inside me. Leah turns to look at me, her expression one of surprise and shock.
"Oh-my-god, you're next!" she gasps. See, we never know what order they're going to do us in.
"No worries." I put on a smile and wrap my arms around her in a farewell hug. Then, just because I want to, I kiss her deeply on the lips, our tongues entwining. Leah responds by pressing herself against me, her full firm breasts covering my small ones. The sweat from our skin makes it a lovely slippery sensation. I feel my nipples tingle.
"Kristi Powell-Brandt, it is your time," the Deputy announces again.
I break off the kiss and wink at Leah as I let her go.
"Keep your shorts on, Deputy," I say as I stand. And holy shit are my legs weak all of a sudden, plus I feel a coldness spreading across my bum and belly. I look down at Leah and see her biting her lower lip.
"Be brave, Kristi," she says as tears well up in her eyes.
"Brave? Hell, I'm horny," I lie. "I'm about to have the fuck of my life." That last part was true at least.
I think I do pretty good hiding how shaky I feel as I pad barefoot across the sand and up the stairs to the stage. I hear some cat-calls and whistles from the crowd. It's nice to know that some guys still like skinny chicks.
I feel kind of dizzy as I stand there while the Deputy reads out the statute and the state's investigation crap about my affiliation with a start-up girl gang a couple years ago when I was still a stupid teenager and all that other legal jazz. All the while I'm watching the other Deputies as they spread lubricant on the spit.
"Kristi Powell-Brandt, are you ready for your chosen means of execution to be carried out?"
"Fuck yeah," I say as loud as I can so the girls and the crowd can hear me. "That's the biggest dildo I've ever seen."
That gets a few laughs.
The Deputy in charge steps forward and hands me a clean white towel.
"For your hands, so you get a good grip," he says quietly, "And don't touch the spit--it's pretty slippery and you don't want any on your hands."
I nod as I dry my sweaty palms and the other Deputies lift the spit and get it ready.
"Thanks," I say quietly, handing the towel back. "What's your name?"
"Deputy Dodson," he answers all official-like, then adds quietly: "Mike."
I smile at him. "Thank you, Mike."
"Take hold of the bar, Kristi," Mike says. Hey! We're on a first name basis now--score one for me! Then he turns to the other Deputies. "Anal insertion."
The other Deputies nod and get good grips on the spit--and holy shit does that thing look thick now that I'm up close.
I reach up with my left hand and find I have to get up on my tip-toes to get a grip on the bar.
"We'll boost that up a bit higher once everything is in place. Now, arch your back, Kristi," Mike says as he guides the tip of the spit toward my ass.
I push my ass out--not that it's much of an ass. I've always been skinny and guys have told me my ass cheeks are two round tight handfuls. I've been tall and skinny all my life, so I did well in high school track & field and played basketball in my one year in college before the investigators caught up with me.
The spit must have been in the sun for awhile because it's almost hot when it presses into my tight puckered anus. I feel the sharp tip scrape me a bit before Mike centres it.
"Sorry about that," Mike says as he guides it true and I feel my anus being pressed open by the tapered tip.
"S'okay," I say as I reach back with my right hand and pull my butt cheeks further apart.
"Hope you like anal, honey," I hear Leah's voice call out.
"I fucking love anal!" I call back, and I'm glad she's regained her sense of humor. "You should see my dildo collection... nothing this thick or long, though." And that gets a laugh too.
"Oh baby!" I coo as I feel my outer sphincter forced wide open and the tip slides inside to open the inner one. The Deputies are working it into me, twisting it a bit to spread the lube and applying some serious pressure. I feel the familiar pain as my inner sphincter is stretched open.
"Wow, you guys are good!" I call out so everyone hears. More laughter.
"Push back now," Mike tells me and I do, arching my back a bit more and leaning back onto the spit, my feet slipping a bit on the stage surface. I realize I am sweating a lot now--the sun is hot and the breeze has died down a bit.
Then all at once I feel my anus reach full expansion and the spit slides deep, stretching out my rectal valves and filling me down there. I close my eyes and savor it, because it does feel really fucking good. The spit is polished steel and so smooth in my ass.
"Oh, that's the spot!" I call out and hear the little quaver in my voice.
The crowd laughs and applauds and they're so loud, Mike has to speak up so I hear him.
"Now reach up with your other hand, Krysti. Get a good grip on the bar." I try but it's hard to get up higher on my tip-toes with the spit so deep in my rectum. I feel his hands grip my narrow waist and lift and my toenails scrape across the stage surface as he helps me up and I reach and get a good grip on the bar with both hands.
"That's a good girl," Mike says and I hear the electric whine of a motor and the bar is being raised, lifting me higher. I feel the shaft angle change inside me and that is a new sensation. Dildos and cocks are soft, you see. This thing is rigid steel.
"Okay... okay..." I say stupidly as I feel the other Deputies moving the base of the spit toward the socket on the stage under me. But with all the movement in my lower gut, I don't know what to do with my legs, so they flail around a bit and I must look like a total long-legged dork.
"...Okay... okay..." and I have no idea why I'm saying that, but I sure as hell don't like the tension and fear I hear in my voice.
"Lift, Krysti. Lift yourself up," Mike urges me, and I do. All those years in the gym have paid off--I pull myself up until my chin is resting on top of the chin-up bar.
"...Okay... I got it... I got it..." Then I grunt as I feel the spit being pushed up deeper into me and feel it slam back out a couple inches as it slips into the slot directly below the centre of the chin-up bar. It jerks as some clamping device clanks hard around it to keep it straight and rigid. But that brief instant when it was deeper gave me a taste of what is to come--and let me tell you, the pressure in my lower belly was pretty tight.
I lock my elbows and hold myself there as I experiment with what to do with my legs. Right now I'm feeling pretty scared and vulnerable, so I wrap them around the spit and kind of trap it between my thighs. Fuck, this thing is thick.
"Alright, Krysti, it's all in your hands now." Mike says as he lays a hand on the back of my left thigh, "You can let go whenever you want." And he gives me a little squeeze before he moves off to the side.
I control my breathing, trying to relax myself so I'll last longer.
"How's it feel, hon?" Leah shouts out.
"Just getting used to it, sweet-cheeks," I call back. "It's a thick bastard!" Hoots from the crowd, cheers from some of the girls.
I experiment a bit, rolling my hips slightly, feeling myself moving on the spit--feeling its weight and bulk moving inside me. I can feel the slipperiness of my inner bum cheeks on the shaft as I move. I untwine my thighs and open my legs a bit... that feels good, like I'm about to ride a thick dildo.
"Oh yeah!" my voice sounds joyful and I'm glad for that. There's no way I want to go out a sobbing screaming victim--I want to give everyone a show they'll remember.
I slip my chin from the bar and lay my forehead against it. Like the spit, the sun has warmed it and it feels hot on my skin. I open my thighs and lift my legs, drawing my knees up and out, letting my feet dangle. I try lowering myself a little and feel the spit pushing up, deeper into my rectum, filling it.
"Oh fuck! I could get used to this!" I gasp and then I laugh, but it sounds forced... and it is. This is getting serious--my arms are already starting to ache. I start moving my body by working my arms, my biceps tight as I do small chin-ups. My body sliding up and down the shaft, feeling it sliding so smoothly in and out of my rectum as I fuck myself with it.
"Krysti-baby, you are such a slut!" Leah calls out.
"Fuck that shaft, girl!" I hear another one of the joker girls call out.
"Oh, I'm gunna fuck it... I'm gunna fuck it good..." I gasp, and it's cool I can still get a laugh.
It is feeling good now, and as my arms begin to ache more, I am lowering myself further each time, and the shaft is stretching my rectum, pulling on my large colon, trying to tug it over to the centre of my belly. I've never felt anything this thick this deep. I find I can lower myself slowly, but I have to lift myself fast--my arm muscles can't lift my weight slowly anymore. But it's also really building the sexual feelings and I feel little washes of cold fear tingle across my bum and belly as I wonder what will happen if I manage to cum. Will I lose my grip? Will my arms give out?
Maybe that's the way to go--fuck myself to orgasm and while my body is convulsing, just let go and pinch my nipples as this brutal thing slides up through my gut and kills me. I start to muster up the courage to do just that.
I'm breathing hard now and the crowd is so quiet I'm sure they can hear me.
"...Okay... okay... okay..." I'm back to that now am I? I'm lowering myself deeper now and the pressure of this thick shaft displacing my guts is amazing and scary.
"AH!" I cry out as my left hand slips and I drop lower than I intended and I can feel this thick fucking thing slide right up past my belly button. I scramble and regain my grip, trying to pull myself upward. It's a struggle--I feel like I weigh a ton. It's so deep! So scary... so deep. My legs are flailing and kicking at the air.
"...Ah!... f-fuck..." I am desperate as I try to pull myself up. I take a chance and loop my left arm up over the bar and pull hard. "...Arrrrghhhh..." and I manage to lift myself up enough to get the bar nested in my left arm pit and pull up with my stronger right arm.
I'm twisted on the spit now, but it's not so deep.
"There's no point in fighting it, Krysti," I hear Mike's voice say. It actually sounds kind and caring.
"...Just... need a minute... just a minute..." I gasp, my biceps are recovering but my arms are feeling weaker--I'm shaking now. I know I'm not going to be able to maintain this and Mike's right--what's the point? This is a battle I'm going to lose.
I try to return to the state I was in before my slip--wanting to cum and just let go. It's so hard though... I'm going to die.
Impaled--sliding down this shaft that is going to penetrate me like nothing ever has.
I'm shaking worse now and sweating a lot. I can feel my inner thighs making wet spattering sounds against the shaft. I start moving myself up and down again--slowly at first.
I look at the faces in the crowd, watching me. They look hungry, eager to watch me do this. I close my eyes as I keep moving myself up and down. Yes--the sexual feelings are still there and the more I move, the stronger they get. I lift my knees and open them, placing my feet on the shaft, trying to hold it between the bottoms of my feet... shit!... I forgot about the lubricant; My feet are slipping and sliding on the shaft.
It doesn't matter. I just keep fucking myself, stroking the shaft with my body. Feeling it sliding deeper into me once again--filling my insides, stretching me deep.
"...Oh yeah... oh yeah..." my voice is whispy and shaky. The chin-up bar is out of my arm pit now, I have the crook of my left elbow hooked over it and I'm lowering myself with each stroke. I am so aware of how hard and rigid the shaft is inside me. I ease myself a bit lower and feel the pressure in the middle of my abdomen increase. I'm wondering how that pressure is going to feel higher in my belly.
And later when it's pushing up on my stomach.
And maybe even as it slides up my gullet.
I shudder as I feel the beginnings of an orgasm and I am so grateful for that. I move my left arm quickly and grip the chin-up bar again with both hands and lower myself more. The pressure follows the tip of the shaft upward in my belly--I can feel it higher than my belly button now. I'm guessing I have over a foot of it inside me.
"Oh baby, take it all the way," I hear Leah say, and her voice is dripping with sexuality, so I know this is turning her on.
I lower myself more and can feel my tummy muscles quivering and clenching. I am panting now, it's hard to catch my breath.
"She's oozing," I hear a girl in the crowd say.
"Yeah, dripping," comes a male voice.
I open my eyes and lower my head and look. They're right: thick milky clots of mucus are sliding out of my cunt and dropping down onto the stage surface. I also see a large pudde of pee under me--I don't remember losing control of my bladder, but I guess I did. I also see why my nipples have been tingling so much; They are puckered and tight.
I'm getting dizzy and feeling weaker now. I seem to be floating on the edge of orgasm, but it just doesn't seem to want to come. My insides feel so tender and delicate--I feel so vulnerable and I love it and hate it at the same time. In my mind's eye I can see the thick polished steel shaft imbedded in the coils of my guts and the thought sends a wave of chills through the muscles of my thighs, bottom, and lower belly.
I lower myself more and feel the pressure higher. My stomach starts to feel like it does after a large heavy meal and I realize that it's because the shaft is pressing up against it.
"...Oh god..." I hear myself whimper as a fresh wave of weakness makes my arms quiver and shake. I can't think of anything funny to say, but I try to laugh and it comes out as a fake desperate giggle so I stop. I try to pull myself back up a bit but it's impossible--my arms just won't work anymore. I lower my legs and wrap my thighs around the shaft again, locking it between my crossed ankles. It feels good, trapped between my thighs. Like the world's biggest cock.
"Let it go, Krysti," Leah's voice is soft and kind. And she's right--It's time.
"...Y-y-yeah..." I whine in answer to her and slowly let my arms straighten. The pressure on my stomach increases to the point that I can't breathe. I feel my breakfast rising up my throat and thank god I only had juice and a big fruit salad. My arms are over my head now and I'm afraid to let go--I need to balance myself so I slide down straight.
Oh! The pressure is so high now!
Can't breathe! Gagging!
I open my mouth and feel the drool filling it so I lower my head and let it flow over my lower lip. Then my breakfast rises in my throat. It doesn't feel like puking--it feels like what it is: My stomach contents are being pushed up my gullet. Even still, I gag as my mouth fills and it flows from my lips.
So dizzy from the lack of air. Waves of tingles washing up and down my body. Then I feel the strong contractions inside my body. They start low in the muscles of my ass and cunt. Then I feel my belly muscles tighten and quiver. I let my arms straighten right up and I feel the sharp bite inside me as the tip of the shaft tears through my stretched colon and starts to work on penetrating my stomach sac. It's driving it up my gullet--more of my breakfast is pushed up my gullet and throat to flow in lumps over my tongue and lips to spatter on the stage surface in my puddle of mucus and pee.
My body starts to convulse, and a flare of intense sensations erupt in my lower belly.
I feel my asshole alternately gripping the shaft tight and gaping around it in quick pulses. My thighs are shaking wildly now, my toes pointing down, and my belly is clenched so tight it hurts.
I let go of the bar and feel myself sliding down the shaft. There is a flare of sharp pain and a feeling of deeper penetration in my upper belly. I gag hard and really vomit this time--my throat fluttering as slimy wet chunks rush upward and spew from my loose lips. I can taste watermelon and blood. Then the flow is cut off and my throat locks tight in a prolonged gag.
Oh fuck, it's sliding up my gullet!
Oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck-oh-fuck, it's such a foreign sensation... I can feel its thickness stretching my esophagus. Pressure in my chest now. I'm sliding lower, the shaft rising inside me. I feel it pulling in my belly from my anus to my throat.
I'm shaking bad now--my whole body spasming and twitching. I reach out with my hands for something to grip but there's nothing but air. I feel my toes brushing the stage surface as my legs kick.
Then someone is trying to take hold of my hands from behind me... I let them and they steady me as I'm sliding downward by degrees. I feel the top of the spit pressing up against the root of my tongue. I can't stop the gagging sensation and I'm surprised that it's feeling good that I can't. I like that my body is reacting this way--it is so fucking intense.
This is it. This is the end. No more smart-assed comments or laughter.
"Lift your head, Krysti." It's Mike who is holding my hands and his voice is gentle and kind, "Lift your chin high and open your mouth. It's okay. It's almost over."
I can't think so I rely on his experience to help me in these last moments. I grimace as I lift my chin, stretching my throat up straight. My toes are pointed down and are curled and resting shaky on the stage surface and I'm sliding so low my knees are starting to bend. I feel my toes point inward like they do sometimes when I cum and I clench my bum tight on the shaft. It feels good to grip it that way.
"Open your mouth, honey." He called me 'honey!' At least I feel loved and not alone now. I open my mouth as I feel the shaft push my tongue forward to slide across my lower lip and it's wet and flaccid.
The shaft is in my mouth now! I can taste the metal and my blood. It's filling my mouth, plumping my cheeks... bigger than any cock I've ever sucked. I feel and hear a light 'tink' as it touches my top front teeth and it forces my jaw open wider as it scrapes across my upper teeth and protrudes from my mouth. I try to close my lips around it but I can't--it's too big and my tongue is in the way. I hear a man's voice from the crowd...
...And a girl...
"She's still alive."
...And their voices are filled with awe.
Another girl's voice, wet and breathless with desire...
"Oh fuck, I want that when it's my turn."
I feel my body relaxing as a wave of dizziness makes it feel like I'm spinning. I just give into it, let it take me.
Mike's arms slide around my body and he presses himself against my back, holding me tight to him that way.
"Shhhh... it's okay, Kristi," he whispers in my ear.