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Project Immortal Soldier: the military’s latest weapons program. In a nutshell, the greatest scientific minds in the country had discovered a way to reanimate the dead, and we wanted to use this technology to bring back fallen soldiers so they could once again server their country, this time as undead zombies.
You haven’t heard of this program? Well, it’s all quite classified of course. Anyway, I had been observing operations at project headquarters for maybe a month when Captain Alcott, who was in charge of housing and feeding the beasts, approached me and asked if I would like to observe a feeding.
“Yes,” I said, “that sounds interesting.”
The captain looked slightly uncomfortable. “Before you say yes, you should know… umm.” He looked away sheepishly, then turned back. “How much did they tell you…?”
“Relax, Captain,” I said with a laugh, “I know what you feed them and I have no moral objection to it. Actually, I’m quite interested to see the process.”
The captain smiled. “Well, that’s a relief,” he said. “We’ve had a few objectors whom we had to reassign. Not many but a few. The crew I’ve got now all believe in what they’re doing and enjoy it.”
“I should hope so. Shall we proceed?”
The feeding area was a large rectangular room with a metal stool in the middle. Above the stool hung a chain with a common pair of handcuffs welded onto the end. The floor surrounding the stool was grated, allowing waste to flow into a collection area below. One wall of the room was made of bulletproof, one-way glass, behind which we could observe the feeding. On the opposite wall was a heavy steel door that led to the zombie pen. Everything was immaculate, and I complimented Alcott on this.
“Give it a half hour,” he said with a smile.
Just then four officers emerged from the viewing room escorting a frightened young woman. They led her to the stool and began to strip her. Not bothering to preserve the clothing, they used knives to cut open her tube top, then pulled her skirt down to her ankles, then snipped off her bra and panties. In five seconds she was completely naked and weeping uncontrollably.
I took a moment to admire the girl. She was an exquisite specimen: early twenties, maybe 5’5’’ 120lbs, and rather beautiful. She was doing her best to cover her nipples with one hand and her loins with the other. It was a naïve gesture, as we were soon going to see her flesh in its entirety, and not only from the outside.
“She’s quite a prize,” I commented to Alcott, as his men secured the girl to the stool. “I’d rather expected a homely girl.”
He looked offended. “These men are Veterans, they died for our freedom! I think our country can spare a pretty girl or two to pay back their sacrifice!”
“Oh, I agree!” I said, feeling suddenly patriotic. “I was just wondering how you keep the disappearance of an attractive young thing like this secret? Surely she has friends and family who will miss her?”
“Most of them do, I’m sure this one has a grieving mother somewhere. They never suspect a thing because we create elaborate fake deaths for the girls we take. Every one of them is burned or mangled beyond recognition in some kind of an accident. The bodies are never discovered whole, but we never leave any doubt that the girl has died in an accident.”
By this time the men had the girl restrained and Alcott wanted to look her over before they let the zombies in. He examined her naked body intently, oblivious to her tear soaked eyes and her pleas. He ran his hand along her smooth belly and grabbed hold of her naval ring between his thumb and forefinger.
“We had a zombie break a tooth once on a toe ring,” he explained. With that, he ripped the ring from the girl’s belly,” causing her to scream out again. “Do you have a wife who might like this?” he asked, offering me the ring.
I laughed. “She’s far to old for something hip like this, but my daughter might like it. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now if you’re ready, let’s retire to the observation room and watch the show.”
Once safely behind the one-way glass, the captain opened the pen door and the zombies slowly poured in. The girl panicked and began to struggle wildly against her bonds, but she wasn’t going anywhere. As the zombies saw her and smelled her flesh they began to get excited. Saliva dripped from hungry mouths and flaccid penises became erect. Alcott turned to me and explained, “The young lady will satisfy two of their needs in one: the need for pussy and the need for meat. It’s very efficient.”
“I’m sure it is,” I replied. “But what are they waiting for?”
The zombies had formed a circle around the girl. They were clearly anxious to begin the feast, but something held them back. Then a figure emerged from the crowd, pushing its way through to the front.
“We call that one Mac,” said the captain. “He’s sort of the alpha-wolf. The others will have to wait for him to get things rolling.”
The massive zombie approached the girl. To my astonishment, it was sporting an erection that would have made a living man proud. The girl noticed this as well, and froze. It wrapped its’ hand around her slender throat and turned her head from side to side, assessing its’ prey. Then it placed its other hand on her thigh, causing her to recoil. The zombie licked its’ lips, satisfied with the offering.
Suddenly it pushed the girl’s legs apart, ignoring her protests, and shoved its’ manhood into her.
“Ooh, in to the balls!” commented one of the officers. We all laughed.
The beast had been fucking her for about ten minutes when it started to show signs of hunger. Still pumping into her pussy, it used its’ ragged fingernails to claw deep scratches into her tanned legs and ass.
“First blood,” remarked Alcott. “It won’t be long now.”
He was right. After another couple of minutes the Zombie bit into the girl’s firm breast, tearing away a chunk. Still fucking her, it swallowed the sweetmeat and clamped its’ teeth around her throat.
One of the submissive zombies, taking advantage of Mac’s preoccupation with the girl’s pussy, furtively grabbed hold of one of her small feet and sank its’ teeth into her calf with an audible “pop”. She weakly tried to pull away, but Mac was slowly eating through her neck and she was losing strength.
Emboldened by their compatriot’s success, the rest of the zombies converged on the young lady and soon they were fighting each other for girlflesh. The bigger ones got better real estate and were able to enjoy tender morsels from the bicep or inner thigh. The smaller, weaker ones had to settle for feet or fingers, crunching them between their molars and sucking out the marrow.
Mac emptied his balls in the girl’s uterus with a loud grunt, then took two large bites out of what remained of her neck. Her head fell to the floor and a runt zombie quickly darted away with it. The runt took the head into a corner and was just about to slide its’ cock between the girls’ dead lips when a group of zombies fighting each other stumbled into my line of sight and blocked my view.
“Well,” said Alcott, “What do you think?”
“That was memorable,” I answered. “You’ll have to invite me again next time.”
At that moment we were all startled by a couple of zombies who had crashed against the glass with a loud thump. They were pulling at opposite ends of a coil of intestine, smearing it up against the glass.
“Well, shall we leave them to their meal?” asked Alcott.
“Yeah, I have work to do anyway.”
As we left the room, Alcott glanced back at his zombies one more time and saluted. “Bon appetite,” he said.
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