The FSRA

The FSRA – Execution

Life flowed at the farm with very little to mark the passage of time. The seasons came and went, but we were someplace close to the equator, so the seasons were not severe. There were no days off. On rare occasions, a new slave would appear, an even worth noting but which made very little difference to our lives. New slaves were likely to cause trouble and bring on punishments. We avoided them.

#11 was a good companion. We were both good workers. And eventually, the inevitable happened. We had been sleeping in the same stall, having sex two or three times a day to relieve my continuing irresistible urges. #11 became pregnant.

She realized it first, and then told me. It changed a few things. I became more protective of her, watching out for her welfare, hiding things that might have brought punishment on her.

Then the incident occurred, the one that would change everything.

We were working at a construction site, moving heavy materials from a truck to a staging area for the construction workers to use. Ankles were chained so we could only take small steps. Wrists were chained so that we had freedom of movement but could not raise arms above our shoulders. As #11 lifted some materials, they slipped, coming down on another slave. The handler came over and started whipping #11, leaving long red stripes of blood along her back, stomach and breasts.

Something inside me snapped. I reached over, and with one swift motion, knocked the handler to the ground and took her whip. I turned it back against her, whipping her several times, shredding her uniform, blood seeping from wounds in the the cloth of her clothes.

I then turned to #11, helped her up, and began running with her. The screams of the handler while I was whipping her brought three or four more, and we made it about 100 yards before my anal shock ring went off, bringing me to the ground. It hit me again, and again, the agony of the shocks rippling through my body repeatedly, until I lost consciousness.

When I awoke, I was back at the farm, chained to a post in the central yard between the barns. All was quiet. The farm was on lockdown.

The effects of the repeated shocks were lingering. The area between my legs was burned and sore. Muscles ached and my mind was dull. I had difficulty moving.

The Doctor, the one that had retrieved me from the sperm milking facility, came out after an hour or so. He had 5 handlers with him. He looked unhappy. They walked over to me, and unchained me. He looked at me sadly, and said “Its too bad. You were a good worker, settling in nicely, with some interesting… attributes.”

With that, the handlers dragged me over to the tall posts that were used for the painful high pressure washing. My wrists and ankles were secured to the ropes, but when the ropes pulled me in to the air, my legs went up first, so that I was hanging spread eagled upside down between the posts. I hung there, dealing with the rush of blood to my head, and the odd feeling of my internal organs weighing down the wrong direction.

In a while, lines of slaves, all chained together in long lines of 20 or more, were brought out and surrounded the posts from which I hung. The chains securing the lines of slaves were in turn locked to concrete posts in the ground, keeping the slaves from moving away from their vantage point where they watched me. I saw #36 at the end of one line, looking at me with tears in her eyes. #11 was nowhere to be seen.

When all the slaves had taken their place, the handler that I had assaulted and whipped came out with one of the high pressure hoses. The hose had a strange attachment. She walked up to me, knelt down and looked at my inverted face, and then spat in it. She stood, and went around to my back. In a moment I felt something long and large being forced in to my anus.

Once in, the device in my anus was inflated, filling my rectum with a huge balloon like bladder that prevented the hose from being removed. Another bladder was inflated, just on the outside of my anus. The effect was to create a very, very tight seal where the hose entered my anus.

I hung there for a while, waiting for whatever would happen. The Doctor walked to the front, addressing the slaves. “For the crime of assault against a handler, and attempting to escape, #6 has been designated for execution by reverse enema. May this serve as a lesson and warning to all who wish to disrupt the natural order.”

As he stepped aside, I felt the water being turned on. It wasn’t high pressure, but steady. At first, I only felt a cool sensation filling my lower abdomen, slowly but surely. It didn’t take long for the water to begin extending past the lower intestines; being upside down helped it penetrate further, and the constant pressure of the water flowing in began to distend my abdomen. Peristalsis cramps began, and I cried out, begging for mercy.

The pain increased, my head was pounding from my inverted position, and my bowels were slowly being enlarged further and further with the water being injected through my anus under pressure. As I cried I looked up and saw that my stomach and abdomen were sticking out further. I was swelling, filled beyond capacity and the pressure of the water was inflating me unnaturally. The stretching of my bowels was agonizing, and I imagined that they might burst at any moment. The pain brought on nausea, which was made worse by my inverted position and I felt my stomach begin to heave, ready to vomit.

Without warning, the pain quickly spread from my abdomen to my stomach area as if some barrier had been broken. The sensation of cold water mixed with burning pain from my horribly stretched digestive tract hit new areas, and new heights of pain. I screamed, but moments later, let out a huge belch. I had never belched like that before, and it scared me horribly as it was clear the water was making its way through my bowels and forcing gases up and out through my throat.

The nausea increased steadily, and I vomited. The vomit sprayed from my mouth, hard and painfully. But then, as the vomiting decreased, the acidic liquid drained down in to my nose from both inside and outside. My sinuses filled with burning stomach acid, I coughed and vomited at the same time, and for a while I believed I might die of asphyxiation from my own puke.

I managed to look up at my body, and saw it distended as if I were pregnant. My screaming had stopped because I was too busy vomiting, and when I wasn’t vomiting I was coughing and trying not to die from asphyxiation. The nausea came in waves, the vomit continued, on and on, longer than I ever though possible. The contractions of my stomach, forcing the vomit out, were causing even more severe pain in my bowels.

I prayed for death.

In between waves of vomit, I screamed. And then vomited again. Eventually, the vomit took on a different quality. The taste became even more foul, if that was possible. It tasted of blood and shit. I even felt chunks of shit forced through my stomach, which was in turn vomited out. The water continued filling my bowels from above, forcing the contents of my entire digestive tract out of my mouth. I knew my stomach would rip at any moment, if it hadn’t already. It truly felt as if some part of my bowels had been ruptured, and the inner cavity of my stomach filled with filthy feces. I would die soon from blood loss or sepsis… or shock…

I don’t remember how long I hung there, upside down, vomiting my guts out, but there came a time when I could taste that the vomit was no longer as foul. No chunks of feces, no brown tainted water…

The water pressure was turned off. The bladders securing the hose in my anus were deflated and removed. Several gallons of water continued to make its way though my bowels, and I continued to vomit.

The ropes were released and I fell to the ground, laying in a huge pool of feces filled vomit, which I added to by spewing putrid water out both ends of my body until the world went black, my last memory images of the slaves watching my tortured demise with horror.