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Spit - More fully, Lil Spit Muffin - as she was called, felt more than a twinge of excitement as she read the invitation.
Sorority of UTR Headquarters
University of Washington-Seattle Campus
1400 NE Campus Parkway
Seattle, Washington 98195
Sunday, June 26, 2157
Greetings, Miss Muffin:
This year at our annual Thanksgiving convention, the Sorority of United Turkey Roasters will be hosting a long pig event for our spoiled darlings, boyfriends and husbands. To retain your special services, we are prepared to endorse a substantial check to the party, fund or beneficiaries of your choice. We will pay to the amount of half the proceeds from our annual Win-a-Million Grand Lottery, the other half payable to the winning ticket holder. Thus far, we can GUARANTEE $718,500.00 as proceeds have topped $1,437,000.00. Ticket sales will continue through Saturday, December 10, 2157. Projected proceeds are between $2,000,000.00 and $3,000,000.00.
We thought it might be fun to try something a little different to supplement our usual assortment of turkey roasts. As you may know, this will be a first for our sorority as a whole although some of our sisters and their families have tried cannibalism. It had been under discussion ever since the popular acceptance and legitimate recognition of Cannibal Rights. Preparation of the long pig before roasting will be a special, adult event. Once the adult activities have concluded, about halfway through the roasting process, the event will be open to people of all ages. We are as of yet uncertain about which of several locations will first become available for this year's convention. So In addition to your services, we are prepared to pay for your travel expenses and any additional items that you may require. We've solicited other independents but want you to know that you're our first choice (You come highly recommended). Our decision to spare no expense and try to retain an independent is inspired by both her WILLINGNESS and EXPERIENCE. Applications have only been sent to independents with at least ten (10) fatal BDSM experiences.
Although we require your experience with being fatally tortured, we are not hard-core sadists and have our limits. Our requirement is only to ensure that you are capable of tolerating what would be your basic preparation as a conscious long pig. You would not be asked to endure anything more than the basic preparation. Your death would be a natural consequence of no more than two necessary events, longitudinal impalement (transvaginal) and being spit roasted. We understand that your death experiences do not include being cooked. Therefore as a precaution, we have retained a licensed anesthesiologist should you survive impalement and require subsequent euthanization.
As part of the adult activities, some of our men may want to use you in a sexual capacity. This is permissible and you would be expected to assist as much as possible, grant requests and so on. In this regard, a certain amount of roughness is permissible but the sisterhood will not allow its men to be cruel to you. No infliction of physical trauma or pain would be tolerated beyond the conscientiously applied bare minimum as necessitated by your impalement. Also we require of our men that they refrain from verbal insults that are calculated to be cruel.
Legally Required Information: Death will be irreversible.
Yours Truly; Ann-Margaret MitchellFinancial Administrator and Legal Consultant
for the SORORITY of United Turkey Roasters
The procedure will be standard in strict compliance with MEDICAL and FDA guidelines as set forth by the EU Constitution, Book 17 (Surrogate Victims) - Section 12 pertaining to Long Pig preparation.
For those unfamiliar with the terminology, a long pig is typically a human female who's skewered on a spit and roasted over a barbecue pit. Should Spit accept the proposition, then she would become Thanksgiving dinner, traditionally still practiced in what had once been the United States. The acronym, EU, stood for European Union or Etats-Unis, a dual entity representing the New World Order. Etats-Unis is Latin for the United States but the old United States had collapsed and merged with a number of other nations. The New World order was a union of what had been North and Central America, most of Europe, the United Kingdom and Australia.
A spike in the development of nanotechnology had made possible biosystems repair beyond anything previously known in human history. With the spike, the technology became capable of engineering and maintaining itself out of raw materials. Consequently it became available to everybody at little or no cost. In the civilized world, chronic disease was virtually eliminated and old age was no longer a necessity, not even for octogenarians and up. Almost any damage sustained by living organisms could be repaired. Even death itself could be reversed, caught soon enough and when the damage wasn't too extensive. That's not to say that nanotechnology could do anything. For example, damage to an organism on either a massive scale or fundamental molecular level could not be repaired.
Thus was sparked a radical change in attitude about injury and death. The risks taken by both amateur and professional athletes may have been the first manifestation of this. Self preservation was no longer a consideration. Competition increased dramatically and almost every long-standing record had been broken within the span of a single decade. Even without the biosystems repair, the nanotechnology had made it possible for almost any athlete to perform like an Olympian. Eventually restrictions were imposed for much the same ethics that had pertained to steroids over a century earlier. With the exception of cellular and structural repair, artificial performance enhancers were strictly prohibited - Sports records enabled by anything but bodily repair were no longer recognized as official.
Also only special sectors of the military-industrial complex were allowed to use genetic reengineering.
However unfair athletic competition had not been the only consideration. The advances had also ushered in a new breed of criminal. Amongst other things not relevant to this narrative, new age crimes included the solicitation and patronization of surrogate victims. This is a hitherto unheard of paid service. The surrogate victim and customer engage in sadomasochistic acts that usually culminate in the surrogate victim's death. Ideally, the death is conscionable in being reversible without any apparent biological damage being retained by the worker. Here, the initial criminalization was more a reflection of preexisting laws that were woefully inadequate to deal with the possibilities of nanotechnology. On one hand, murder was being committed. On the other hand, the very definition of clinical death had been changed. Liberals argued that nobody was being murdered in cases where the dead were resurrected. Conservatives argued that murder was murder.
Legal reforms came in stages. First, murder was capital murder only when death was irreversible but otherwise, murder as such became a lesser crime. Surrogate victims were reclassified as prostitutes because the sadomasochistic acts often included sex - During this early phase, the customers were often referred to as johns. Since STDs and other communicable diseases had been virtually eradicated, a push began in earnest to legalize and regulate prostitution. The push was successful. Wives now felt less threatened by professionally minded prostitutes than female rivals with romantic interests. With prostitution legalized, the surrogate victim trade was reclassified as a crime of reckless endangerment inasmuch as irreversible death remained a distinct possibility. Sometimes the new technology was misapplied or customers acted in bad faith, deceptively luring workers to their permanent deaths - Murder was still capital murder in such cases.
To make matters even more complicated, temporary death became a craze to curious thrill seekers with no commercial interests. Juveniles experimented with different ways of offing themselves. Married couples included death-play in their lovemaking to rekindle lost passion. Academists committed suicide or had themselves killed to research the deeper mysteries. Legalization and regulation of the pursuit became a last ditch effort to stop the occasional, irreversible death. While not 100% successful, this solution worked better than anything that had gone before. The decriminalization was not uniform across the board and some categories would remain expressly forbidden - The activity would remain prohibited to children, pregnant women and people employed by the State. Due to the horrific elements of sadomasochism involved, the surrogate victim trade was the last category of reversible death to win acceptance.
The irony is that the legalization and regulation of surrogate victimization served to endorse as opposed to minimize irreversible death. In an attempt to regulate the unstoppable, any intentional and unauthorized killing was reclassified as capital murder. The concession was that a recreational and temporary death could be authorized after the formal revocation of a person's human status - More will be said about this very shortly. Then to thwart the original intention, the legal precedent was established that murder isn't constituted by inflicting permanent death on a person without human status. This opened up a myriad of new possibilities that included legalized cannibalism. With livestock status, surrogate victims could now be slaughtered and processed as food. Still, the law afforded some degree of protection. In particular, independent practitioners of the trade could draw up a contract and thereby set boundaries to suit their own unique preferences.
Spit wasn't afraid of death. As a registered surrogate victim, she was turned on by it! Being a much coveted and rare commodity, she made exceptionally good money as an independent worker. Few people would even want to qualify themselves to be a surrogate victim. For one thing, the depths of depravity alone would offend the average person's sensibilities. For another thing and more importantly, the potentiality for extreme and prolonged torture was more than most people could endure.
Not all surrogate victims were so fortunate as to be independents. Any member of the private sector could issue a bond on themselves by borrowing money. The bond holder would be the lender from whom the money was borrowed - This could be another person or entity, usually a credit card company. If the borrower failed to pay the interest when due or repay the principle at maturity, then the rights of the bond holder would be specified by the bond indenture. By these rights, the bond holder could lease out the borrower to act in various capacities. Typically, these capacities included functioning as a surrogate victim because that's where the money was. If the bond indenture allowed for a servant's permanent death or termination, then the returns would usually determine whether granting such a lease was equitable or not.
In short, a delinquent borrower would become an indentured servant to be exploited in any way deemed profitable. If permanent death didn't come first, then servitude would continue until the debt had been paid off in full.
Strict protocol was observed in leasing out a servant as a surrogate victim.
That's not to say that a bonded servant was a complete slave. When not being leased out, servants enjoyed almost the same rights and privileges as everybody else. They were free to attend school, hold jobs, live with their families, date or get married, etc. A new Fair Rights Act even provided that a servant's services couldn't be retained more than once in any given calendar week! About the only thing that they couldn't do was get pregnant since pregnant women couldn't be surrogate victims. To prevent a servant from conceiving to escape her obligations, she would be sterilized until her debt was paid - This could be accomplished by either conventional means or an application of nanotechnology.
To qualify herself as an independent worker, Spit had needed to issue a bond on herself by borrowing money from a legal alias of herself - Lol, the minimum amount that could be legally borrowed was only $1.00. This technicality made her alias the bond holder. She next needed to become a delinquent borrower. By the rights of her alias as specified by the bond indenture, she could then lease out her delinquent self as a surrogate victim. To ensure that she stayed in debt to her alias, she only needed to keep borrowing money. Of course, the money was never lost in being passed back and forth from herself to herself. In case you're wondering, she was doing nothing illegal - This was standard procedure as recommended for independents by a State that was a stickler for protocol. There was only one other requirement. Acting in the capacity of her alias, Spit needed to register her delinquent self. That is to say, any bond holder needed to license each indentured servant. This was tantamount to paying the State 20% of the revenue pulled by the servant. In view of the enormous profits to be made, the price was well worth it!
Getting back to the sorority invitation, three things stood out to Spit. Firstly, most of her clients were filthy rich degenerates as opposed to a middle-class sorority offering half the proceeds from a lottery. Secondly this middle-class sorority was offering her more money than she'd ever been offered before. Thirdly, they had specified a death that would be permanent. Suffice it to say that a long pig, skewered on a spit and roasted over a barbecue pit, was beyond the repair of even nanotechnology - That's not to mention that she'd be digested by a sorority of lord knows how many sisters and their romantic partners.
Feeling the wetness of her own arousal, she licked her lips in contemplation. She'd long fantasized about being a sexual toy before the roasting spit impaled her all the way through, from vagina to mouth.
It should be no mystery why her self chosen nickname was Lil Spit Muffin.
She imagined her slow and torturous death being a source of erotic joy for so many men. Experience in her selected profession had taught her the art of enjoying herself while dying, even to the point of getting off - Her clients favored this rare gift. She'd no doubt that she could orgasm during impalement, even after the pole had gone halfway through her. She envisioned everyone's wonderment when two men would grab the impalement pole's ends and carry her to the pit. Although she'd be dead after being gutted and stuffed, there was something amazing about being the turkey on Thanksgiving Day. She pictured all eyes being feasted on her as the spit turned her, and later when they carved her up and dined upon her. She thought about how exciting it would be to participate in the planning and preparation before the event. She'd help send out the flyers, organize the affair and make necessary phone calls. She knew some really good caterers. In this regard, she had some very definite ideas about place mats, decorations and side dishes. Even more, she'd just have to know every little detail about the skewering and cooking process. She already knew what had to be used in her own stuffing, and it just wouldn't do for anybody but herself to go out and pick up all of those ingredients! Everything would have to be perfect and done just right. She had allot to teach and show the sorority sisters who would host the event. She also had allot to learn from them to better assist in the implementation of their knowledge. WHEN SHE WAS DONE COOKING, SHE'D BE A MASTERPIECE!
After having thought all of these thoughts, she felt herself about to cum without even having touched herself. Crossing one leg over the other and vigorously pumping her foot up and down, she came hard!
It wasn't entirely unheard of for an independent worker to lease herself out for termination. The money being offered was more than equitable. If she actually went through with this, then there could be no doubts about who the beneficiaries would be. They were her grandmother on her mother's side, her dad and younger brother whom she loved dearly. These three were the only family that she had. Through Spit's practice, they were already well on the way to becoming fabulously wealthy but the family hadn't always been so well off. Spit's beautiful mother, God rest her soul, had gone on before her as a surrogate victim but not an independent - Debt had forced the woman to issue a bond on herself and the bond holder had leased her out for termination.
Several years earlier, a lawsuit had put the family into a deep financial hole. While the new technology could provide for basic needs, it could neither provide wealth nor the funds necessary to pay off a substantial debt. On the meager salary of a customs officer, Spit's dad couldn't earn enough to pay off the debt. One of Spit's parents could've only borrowed money and hoped to be leased out as surrogate victim. However as a customs officer, Spit's dad worked for the State and was prohibited from acting in such a capacity. That left Spit's mother to be the one to save her husband and her children - Otherwise they would all be sent to a work camp for the rest of their lives.
Even had the husband not worked for the State, it most likely wouldn't have made much difference. As surrogate victims, men weren't much in demand and there was no way for Spit's dad to pull as much revenue as his beautiful wife.
Spit's mom must've been a worker for almost three months before the bond holder had leased her out for termination. I cannot overemphasize how stunningly gorgeous that the girl's mother was. The asking price was exorbitantly high, almost $180,000.00 more than what the sorority was currently offering Spit. Ordinarily, only some rich eccentric could've afforded such a price but in this instance, the leasee was the State itself - The most valued customer was now the very entity that had once been the main prosecutor of the surrogate victim trade.
Money was absolutely no object for a State that would typically lease the first bond issuer available on their list, regardless of price.
The take had been more than enough to pay off her family's debt. Although the bond holder had been entitled to keep all profit, the business entity's CEO was so pleased that he'd graciously given Spit's family $50,000.00 to tide them over. Spit had missed her mother and cried but knew that this had been necessary, and appreciated the sacrifice that her mother had made for them all. It was through this that she'd known, she wanted to follow in her mother's footsteps, only as an independent. She'd told this to her mother on the day that the two of them had said goodbye for the last time.
A mother's Goodbye
The Mother's Cup:
On a cold winter's morning after Spit's father had left for work, the fatal notice had arrived. Spit had taken an interest in her mother's weekly obligations and often asked questions. They'd both known that this could happen. Still, when a copy of the contract had come, they'd felt strangely surprised. Upon opening and reading her mail, the mother had been unable to remain standing and sat abruptly on the couch. Spit had been a bright little girl. Having observed the reaction and taken the envelope from her mother's hands, she hadn't understood everything but understood enough to confirm her suspicions. Mother and daughter had looked at each other and each knew what the other was thinking. For the first few minutes, their hearts had raced too fast for them to talk. Then as though both had been of one mind, they'd spontaneously hugged each other until their hearts had quieted a little. For a few minutes after that, they'd tried to carry on like nothing was too unusual about today. They'd made small talk, even talked about a popular singer's latest recording. After having made scrambled eggs and hot cereal for the daughter, the mother had poured herself a cup of coffee that had only made her heart race again. The mail came early, and there had been plenty of time for Spit to go to school. Without missing a beat, the child had assumed a characteristic pose by the front door and waited to be bundled up. The mother had picked up her daughter's coat, turned towards the child and stopped. For a long minute, they had just stood there and studied each other. They both had already known that Spit wouldn't be going to school today. There could be no more pretenses that today was just another day. Today was the last day that mother and daughter would ever see each other.
A bonded servant would be notified within one to three days after a lease was taken out. Usually this would provide several days advanced notice of the possession date as most leases were taken out well in advance - The possession date is the exact time when the leasee retains rights to the property or servant. This was particularly true within the private sector but in contrast, the State was notorious for taking out leases on very short notice. Depending on minute by minute agendas, the State was apt to take out a lease on the same day as the possession date. It didn't always happen that way but happened often enough, and this is what happened to Spit's mother. Now had the mother's bond holder required more advance notice, the State would've simply moved down to the next bond issuer on their list. Consequently the bond holder would've lost out on the deal. Months or years could pass before another leasee might afford the asking price, a price justified by the mother's exquisite beauty.
Spit had been very attentive and stayed by her mother's side throughout the morning. Although her daughter undoubtedly understood, the mother had known that she would be broaching the subject of what was going to happen. This was infinitely preferable to leaving her daughter with no interactive resolution. Nevertheless she'd needed time to think of the best approach. It's not that she hadn't prepared for the eventuality that she might find herself in this position. She had prepared but somehow the startling reality had changed what she'd thought had been her priorities. What she'd previously thought of now seemed to fall short.
Also to avoid any distractions, she decided to notify her husband after the talk with her daughter.
It may have been about 10:30 AM when the mother positioned Spit to face her. As they had done several times throughout the morning, they embraced and beheld each other solemnly. Before her mother even spoke, Spit knew what was coming and preempted, "Mommy, are you going away?"
Caught completely off guard, Spit's mother felt overwhelmed. Plunged to a depth that she'd meant to approach slowly, she could only think to tactfully say, "It happens today but I am here, my darling!"
It was then that Spit eyed her mother and astonished, "Mommy, I wanna be a worker too when I grow up but not work for THEM, nobody but myself." By, "THEM," she'd obviously meant the credit card company, the mother's bond holder, and her inflection had been one of contempt.
With a wistful smile, the mother held both of the daughter's little hands and looked long and searchingly into the child's eyes. She'd told the child, "I want you to grow up and have children of your own, baby girl."
When the daughter tearfully insisted, "Anything good enough for mommy is good enough for me," the mother knelt to embrace and kiss the child all over her face.
Then she said to her little girl, "Remember to take care of daddy and your baby brother for mommy, okay?" She had suddenly decided that it was better to say it this way. There was no need for explicit mention. Her daughter had more than amply demonstrated that she understood.
The child threw both arms around her mommy's neck and returned, "I will, mommy! I promise!"
Embracing her little girl, the mother rose to a standing position.
Still clinging to the mommy's neck with her feet hanging off the ground, the child cried and pleaded, "Mommy, I love you! Please don't go!"
Carrying her daughter into another room, the mother said, "Shhh! Mommy wants to show you something! Everything is going to be all right!" Setting her little girl down, the mother walked over to the baby brother's crib, picked him up and sat down on the side of the bed. Cradling the baby boy in her arms, she beckoned to her daughter, "Come here! Sit down next to me!"
The little girl did as she was told.
The mother leaned sideways to bump shoulders with her daughter and again repeated, "Everything is going to be all right!" Cradling the baby so that he could see his big sister, the mother playfully addressed her son, "Who's that! Who's That! Huh?"
With a great big smile and bright wide eyes, the baby boy flailed his arms, looked at his sister and cooed.
The mother addressed him, "That's big sister! That's your big sister! Yes she is!" Again leaning sideways to bump shoulders with her daughter. She nodded towards the infant, looked into her daughter's eyes and asked, "Who's this? Who's this?"
Spit felt oddly overwhelmed and numb.
Smiling cheerfully, the mother leaned heavily into her lovely daughter three times, each time to impart a kiss with a resounding smack. Expressively nodding at the baby boy and tilting him towards his big sister, she asked the girl, "Who is this, big girl? Who is this, Sweety?"
The mother's smile was contagious. Unable to help herself, Spit smiled lovingly at her mother and answered, "That's my baby brother, mommy!"
The mother returned, "That's right! Everything is going to be all right! You'll see!" She held her tiny son towards the girl.
Spit carefully gathered up the precious bundle into her own arms.
Relinquishing the infant, the mothered continued in hushed tones, "There! See! Everything is all right!"
The little girl held her baby brother closely to herself and proceeded to rock.
Putting an arm across her daughter's shoulders, the mother fondled the baby with her other hand and spoke to her daughter, "You know your mommy loves you both and would never do anything unnecessary to hurt either of you, don't you?"
Barely able to swallow the painful lump in her throat, Spit closed her eyes and the tears rolled down her cheeks. She sobbed, "I know, mommy."
Her mother launched, "Then you know that I must keep you both and daddy from having to go to a work camp."
Spit protested, "I don't care! I would go to a work camp for you, mommy!"
The mother's arm still rested across Spit's shoulders. Squeezing the far shoulder and kissing her daughter's tearful cheek, the mother appealed, "I know, sweety, AND THAT'S OKAY! It really is but it's not only about you, my darling! Would you wish that on your baby brother?"
Spit barely squeaked, "No."
The mother continued, "Then you know that this is something I have to do. Otherwise your baby brother would be raised by the State and worked to death as soon as he was old enough. You see that, don't you?"
looking up, the daughter locked eyes with her mother and acknowledged, "I know, mommy!" Then suddenly Spit blurted, "I LOVE YOU MOMMY," and so many tears welled up that the mother appeared out of focus.
Imparting another kiss, the mother tightened her arm about Spit to hold the child against herself. Then she said, "I know, sweety, my darling! Mommy loves you too! That's why you mustn't feel sad for mommy." Simultaneously squeezing Spit's shoulder and patting the baby boy for extra emphasis, the mother substantiated, "Be happy for mommy that she can protect you. That's why everything is going to be all right!"
Spit appeared perplexed.
The mother next put to the daughter, "Are you happy for mommy's joy because it is within her power to protect you?"
The daughter hesitated and looked at her baby brother, cradled in her own arms.
The mother touched her upturned fingers to the underside of her little girl's chin. Applying gentle pressure to tilt Spit's head up, the mother rephrased the question, "Do you disapprove of mommy's joy because she can protect you?"
Spit looked up at her mother and asserted, "No, mommy! I want you to be happy! I love you, mommy!"
The mother extrapolated, "Then you are happy that mommy is happy!" She paused, her voice cracked and she appended, "You are happy for mommy because she knows that your little brother and you, and daddy too are going be all right!"
Both mother and daughter appraised each other through vision blurred by tears.
Gently brushing Spit's eyes, the beautiful mother returned her fingertips to the underside of her daughter's chin and posed, "Are you are happy because mommy is happy?" Raising her eyebrows and nodding her head up and down, she silently mouthed the word, yes.
Smiling sweetly through watering eyes at her mother, Spit followed, "Mommy, I'm so sad but happy because you are happy! I really am, and I'm happy for my baby brother!"
The mother affectionately pinched her daughter's runny nose and soothed, "It's okay to be sad when you are happy. You know that mommy loves you and will always be with you, here and here!" She had just touched Spit's heart and forehead with her fingertips. Tapping the baby brother, she added, "I'm also in here so you will never be without me. No one can separate us or take us away from each other!"
When the mother suddenly stood up, "Spit cried out, "NO MOMMY!"
The mother addressed, "It's okay, sweety! I'm still here!" Turning to face Spit, she bent down, scooped her son from his sister's arms and urged, "Help me heat his bottle?"
Spit followed her mother into the kitchen.
Sill carrying the baby, the mother lovingly requested, "Honey, can I watch you do it so I can give love to your brother a little while?"
Spit threw her arms about her mother and agreed, "Yes mommy! I want you to watch me do it!" With that, Spit filled a large bowl full of water and put it into a device that worked on much the same principle as a microwave. Starting to reach for a clean bottle, she stopped to grin at her mom thoughtfully, picked up a dirty bottle and washed it thoroughly.
Widening her eyes and nodding in approval at the extra effort, the mother exclaimed, "Ah!" Enraptured, she held the baby and nuzzled his scalp, sniffing and kissing as though she couldn't get enough of him.
Filling the bottle with milk-formula and affixing the nipple properly, Spit set it into the large bowl of water and activated the microwave as such. Waiting for the water to heat, Spit reflected that her mother would normally breast feed at this time of day. Nonetheless she said nothing of this exception - She knew that her capabilities were being tested.
With her nose ever pressed against her baby's head, the mother watched her daughter with admiration.
Within less than a minute, just as the water had barely started to boil, Spit cut off the heat. With a towel to protect her hand, she fished the bottle from the bowl and momentarily set it on the counter. After tentatively touching her bare fingers to the bottle, she grasped it with confidence and squirted milk-formula on the upturned wrist of her free hand. Looking at her mother, Spit said, "Feels good!"
Holding the baby in one arm, the mother extended an open palm towards her daughter who squirted milk-formula on the offered wrist. Giggling and nodding her head, the mother closed and reopened her fingers. Spit set the bottle into the parent's open palm and followed her mother back to the bedroom. The mother lay down in the center of the bed, cradling the baby on one side and motioning for Spit to join her on the other. Snuggling up to her mother, Spit lay her head down on her mother's bosom. The mother positioned an arm about her daughter.
Although the baby nursed from the hand-held bottle, the mother was full of milk and one breast began to leak from the weight of the daughter's head. Feeling the wetness, Spit blushed, "I'm sorry," and corrected her position to a less comfortable one.
As you may have guessed, Spit had been weaned years earlier.
The son lost interest in the bottle and let it slip from his mouth. Unbuttoning her blouse and baring the breast next to her son, the mother helped the boy roll onto her. Within moments, he was suckling contentedly.
The daughter again began to sob. Repositioning an arm about her daughter, the mother cradled the girl back to a more comfortable position. This time, Spit did not mind the sweet wetness against the side of her face. No longer embarrassed, she was glad to be where she was, listening to her mother's heartbeat and watching her baby brother suckle.
Then the mother slid down the other side of her blouse, underneath her daughter's head. The nipple jumped out against the girl's cheek. Soon, two beloved and innocent children were suckling contentedly.
At her mother's breast, there was no tomorrow and Spit was no longer sad. It's difficult to say how long that the moment may have lasted. It was a moment outside of time that seemed as though it could abide forever. Drawing her mother's nurture into herself, she was one with her mother. With no tomorrow, she would always have her mother, and her mother would always have her. Nothing could ever take that away from the two of them. Then she fell asleep and started to dream peacefully. At her mother's very breast, she dreamed about her mother whom she loved. She dreamed about all of the magic moments that they'd had shared together. She dreamed about the first time that she'd seen her baby brother. She dreamed about yesterday and the day before. She dreamed about all of her days before, and there was still no tomorrow.
When Spit awoke, her mother was gone. In a panic, she sat up abruptly, her heart pounding in her chest. A quick scan of the room revealed her baby bother in his crib. Rolling back onto the bed, she drew herself up into a fetal position. Her little frame racked with sobs that sounded like hiccups.
After crying for a little while, she felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder and heard her lovely mother's voice say, "I'm here, darling!"
She felt the bed sag as her mother sat down and proceeded to rub her back vigorously. Rolling over, she flung her arms tightly about her mother's waist and worried, "I thought you were gone!"
Her mother placated, "I'm still here, sweetheart! Mommy is right in the next room with Daddy." After bending over to implant another kiss, she promised, "Mommy will never leave you without saying goodbye. You'll see me again!" Rising from the bed, the mother left the room to rejoin Spit's father and make love to him again. This would be the last time that she would ever make love to her husband who'd taken off from work very early.
Spit got up, changed her baby brother's diapers, fed him another bottle and burped him. When her mother returned to the room, Spit solemnly asked, "Are you leaving now, mommy?"
Opening her arms, Spit's mother smiled and replied, "I'm still here!"
The daughter rushed into her mother's embrace and was lifted off the ground.
After many kisses had been exchanged, the mother continued to hold her daughter aloft. With Spit's legs wrapped around her ribs, she had clasped her hand's beneath the child's buttocks in support. Looking deeply into her daughter's eyes, she announced, "I've come to say goodbye but this isn't really goodbye. It really isn't. Now listen to me, darling! Remember that I am always with you. You have only to look inside of yourself and you will find me. Whenever you want, I will be there to tell you that I love you. Do you understand this, my darling, sweetheart?"
Swallowing another lump in her throat, Spit wept, "Yes, mommy!"
Her mother imprinted, "Even now as I am speaking to you and looking at you, I am ALREADY inside of you. Can you feel me in your heart, my precious darling?"
Swallowing hard again, Spit blinked tightly and murmured, "Yes, mommy!" More tears rolled from her eyes.
Spit's mother then requested, "Now I want you to do something for me, my darling. This is VERY, VERY IMPORTANT! Can you do something for me?"
Spit burst, "OH MOMMY! I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU!"
Her mother prefaced, "I want you to ask mommy a question. It is a VERY IMPORTANT question. Are you ready for the question, sweetheart?"
Spit affirmed, "I'm ready, mommy!"
Spit's mother launched, "You can ask out loud but mommy is going to answer from inside your heart? Ask mommy what she is saying to you! ASK HER RIGHT NOW!"
Tears again streaming down her face, Spit asked, "WHAT ARE YOU SAYING TO ME, MOMMY?!"
With as many tears as her daughter, the mother nodded and gently searched, "...And what am I saying to you, sweetheart, my dearest darling?"
Spit stammered, "You... You are saying that you love me!"
Her mother affirmed, "Yes, my dearest darling! That's exactly what I'm saying to you! SEE?! Everything is going to be all right! You've asked me a question and I've answered from inside your heart. You can do this anytime. It doesn't matter whether I'm here to look at you or not! I will always be inside your heart and your mind. I will never leave you, you will always have me AND I WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOU!"
In this way, Spit felt that the blissful conviction at her mother's breast had been validated, namely that she would always have her mother.
They kissed some more and exhausted the rest of their tears in each other's arms. After the mother had set her daughter down and walked across the room, Spit asked, "Is it time for you to go, mommy?"
The mother smiled winningly and answered, "I am still here, sweetheart!" Then walking back over to her daughter, she pointed to Spit's heart and forehead to remind, "I am here and here!"
No longer crying, Spit hugged her mother and smiled.
As the mother walked over to the crib and picked up the baby brother, Spit's father entered the room. The mother again lay on the center of the bed with the baby, motioning for her husband and daughter to join her on either side. Surrounded by all of her loving family, the mother again bared both of her breasts, and both of her children suckled.
A mother's Sacrifice
Spit's mother, Christine, showed up at the appointed place and time, an outdoor cafe, 2:45 PM - It had actually seemed much later with all that she'd accomplished for her family on such short notice. Within a minute of her arrival, she was approached by two well dressed men in black suits, black leather shoes, white shirts and long ties. How they'd recognized her so fast, she didn't know but they addressed her by name before asking her to stand up. They were required to confirm her identity, and that included scanning the Primary identity chip that had been implanted in her left buttock at birth - This was done electronically and required no removal of clothing. The identity confirmation was very exhaustive. She'd additionally been required to bring her photo ID and confirm various transactions that she'd made over the last several years. The men were likewise required to confirm their own identities to Christine. Their Primary and State information had been provided in the mail that she'd received earlier in the day. As employees of the State, the State or Authorization identity chip of each had been implanted in his right buttock. With her own device, Christine scanned their right and left buttocks to confirm matches with what she'd been mailed. Via a government database, she cross referenced left and right buttock information and confirmed special codes that she'd also received in the mail - Each State assignment had its own code that could only be used for that one assignment.
All of this done, one of the men gracefully motioned for her to sit back down. After she had done so, both of the men informally introduced themselves and sat at her table. The day had started out blustery enough but had warmed up nicely to about 4 degrees Celsius or Centigrade - That's 40 degrees Fahrenheit although Fahrenheit was no longer in use. The wind had stopped completely, the afternoon sun was shining very brightly and felt very nice on Christine's face. She eyed the two men, Peter and Thomas, the men who would be killing her before long. Their cordiality seemed strangely incongruous with the duty that they had to perform.
Glancing at his watch, Peter said, "We have some time. Your time is scheduled for 4:00 PM. That's when it begins. We've got about 40 minutes to kill, even allowing for travel time. Would you like some late lunch or a snack?"
With an uncomfortable expression, Christine quipped, "Did you say kill?"
Peter puzzled, "Huh?" His companion, Thomas, caught on and smiled wryly, casting darting glances between Christine and Peter. Apologetically, Peter recognized, "Oh, uh-oh! I'm sorry! I didn't mean..." His voice had trailed off.
Christine shook her head and inquired, "How long will it take?"
Peter answered, "Well, it begins at 4:00. Your uh, you know, is supposed to be concluded by 4:30 but it shouldn't go on anywhere near that long. It should be over in a few minutes."
A waiter approached their table and prompted, "May I help you?"
Peter ordered, "Yes! I'll have the spicy chicken wings with hot sauce on the side, a buttered roll and coffee with cream and sugar." Thomas stipulated, "I only want a beer, nothing more."
Writing the orders down, the waiter cued, "...and Mademoiselle?"
Christine tossed her hand and declined, "No thank you, I'll be having nothing." The waiter raised his eyebrows and she reemphasized, "I don't want anything. Thank you though." Experience with dying had taught her that death is less distressful on an empty stomach.
She knew the purpose of her death that was to be permanent although she didn't specifically know what would be involved. Everything had been specified in the contract but on such short notice, she hadn't had time to read the exceedingly lengthy document in its entirety. Priority had demanded that she devote all of her remaining time to her children and husband. She felt incensed about having had to show up 40 minutes before they even needed to depart for the appointed destination - She could've spent the precious extra minutes with her family.
A street vendor approached and offered, "A rose for the lovely lady?" He turned to Peter who seemed more attentive and asked, "Your wife? Your girlfriend?"
Christine spoke up first in volunteering, "No, they work for the same entity as my husband." This was no lie inasmuch as her husband and the two men worked for the State albeit in different capacities.
She didn't dare mention the whole truth because this was to be a temporarily confidential death - I'll say more about this later. That much had been stated in BIG, BOLD PRINT! She'd been entitled to share the information with her immediate family but the general public was not to know. Neither she nor her family were free to talk about this to anybody else. Failure at compliance would implicate her entire family and compromise everything that she'd hoped for. Legal requirements were not to be trifled with and penalties were severe. The State ruled with an iron hand and was not adverse to punishing an entire family for infractions by one member - Her husband would instruct her daughter about this particular matter. Of course, the bond holder would necessarily know the truth but was equally required to maintain silence.
The vendor exclaimed, "Ah! Business Partners!"
Surprisingly, Thomas and not Peter bought the offered rose for Christine although she'd not expected either one of them to do so.
Thanking Thomas, Christine unwrapped the rose and smelled its fragrant petals. She mused, "This is my first rose ever that shall outlast me." She next addressed the rose and reflected, "You will never age for me, nor fade, nor die!" She couldn't remember where that second line had come from but she'd heard or read it somewhere.
From another source, Thomas quoted, "It's death that gives this world its point. We love a rose because we know it will soon be gone. Whoever loved a stone?"
From Shakespeare, Peter quoted, "Grows, lives, and dies in single blessedness."
Christine looked up from her rose to appraise both of her poetic draconian companions. She marveled that Peter's eyes were tearing. As for Thomas, she thought that he might be enjoying this a little too much notwithstanding that he'd bought the rose.
Addressing the first man by name, she posed, "Peter, are you sure you're in the right line of work?"
Shaking his head, Peter justified, "It's a job. I do what the State requires of me." With an undertone, he leaned towards Christine and apologized, "I'm sorry that there's no way out of this."
In even softer tones, Christine retorted, "I'm not looking for a way out. This is for the lives of my family."
Thomas remarked, "That's admirable."
Peter granted, "I know. Not that I'm a mind reader but given your debt and that you have a family, it goes without saying."
Their waiter brought a tray. Setting the wings, roll, coffee and condiments in front of Peter, the waiter gave the beer to Thomas and a glass of ice water to Christine.
Thomas expressed, "Thanks!"
After the waiter had left, Christine probed, "Does either of you two have a wife or children?" Although she'd not ordered anything, she munched on a little of the ice.
Thomas returned, "Nope!" With a full mouth, Peter confirmed, "Yes," took a sip of coffee and prided, "...Two little ones!"
Turning more towards Peter, Christine affected, "Aw! Ages?"
Peter revealed, "Five and eight," and volunteered, "Two boys!"
Christine related, "Aw! One of mine is that age, eight."
Peter smiled and relayed, "I know. Required reading!"
The dialog continued between the three of them, mostly pleasant conversation about their families with a mix of other assorted topics. Sipping on his beer, Thomas talked about his schooling and upbringing - Of all things, Thomas had gone to acting school. More than ever, Christine found the congeniality of these men irreconcilable with what they would be doing very soon. With a sense of humor, she thought to herself, "Well, they aren't psychopaths. Overlooking what they do for a living, they're just like anybody else!"
Peter and Thomas had almost finished their refreshments when a female acquaintance of Christine had spotted her and walked up to join them. The two women knew each other from PTA meetings at Spit's school where their daughters had been rehearsing together for a Christmas play. Christine wished so very much that she could see her daughter's play but it wasn't to be.
Seeing the woman warm up to Christine, Thomas scribbled something on the back of a card, handed it to Christine and relayed, "Tell your husband that he can reach me here!" The two men paid the waiter, rose and walked around the corner in the direction that the woman had come from.
While the woman continued to be engaging, Christine glanced at the card that said, "MEET US AROUND THE CORNER - 15 MINUTES!" There was also a handwritten address on the card. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was 3:15 PM. In accordance with what Peter had said earlier, she figured that they wanted to leave in 15 minutes, namely at 3:30 PM. Christine's behavior was leisurely enough. She meant to give herself another 5 minutes before announcing that she had to go somewhere. The woman seemed very intent and Christine anticipated that disengagement itself might require an additional 5 minutes. That would bring the time up to 3:25 PM but that was cutting it a little close - Again, she didn't want to place her family in jeopardy!
At this point, the woman asked, "Are you coming to this week's meeting?"
Christine pledged, "If I can make it," and ventured, "It should be lovely, and everyone's bringing a plate for the buffet afterwards!...What will you be preparing?"
The woman enthused, "I think I'll stand by old faithful, tuna casserole!"
Christine challenged, "What?! No macaroni and cheese?!"
The woman suggested, "You bring the macaroni and cheese!" Then quite unexpectedly, she pulled her coat together and shivered, "Don't you feel a chill? We need to take ourselves right home. I'm going to put myself into a nice, warm tub!"
Christine smiled enchantingly and patted the woman's hand. All of this had her on the verge of tears again but she hid them very well. She wistfully contemplated that on any other blissful day, they'd have both walked right on home to their families as suggested - Perhaps they'd have shared a pot of hot tea.
For a quiet moment, the two women looked at each other from across the table. A brisk breeze had started up and was whipping their hair about. Except for this and the latest remarks, Christine would've been completely oblivious to the returning cold. She'd been too full of adrenaline to notice. A dark cloud partially covered the sun that had gotten a little lower in the sky.
Now pleading, "You just have to see my daughter's new costume," the would be hostess further tempted, "Whadaya say, Christine? Let's go home!"
With a tender expression, Christine declined, "I've got a little more to do, so I..." She swallowed forcefully and tried to continue, "...I'd like to but I..." She stopped abruptly. It was all that she could do to keep fighting back the tears.
First questioning, "Are you sure?" Christine's acquaintance accepted, "Well, okay dear, so okay! Maybe some other time." Then in harmony with Christine's wish to curtail the conversation, she abruptly stood and parted, "I've got to go now but DON'T YOU stay out here in this cold for too long! Okay, dear? Hey! ARE YOU GOING TO BE ALL RIGHT?"
Nodding in acknowledgment, Christine again smiled ardently at her fellow PTA member, and bravely promised, "Oh, don't worry, I'll be okay! I won't be here for much longer!" She realized the double meaning in what she had said, and wished that there'd been more time to develop the budding friendship.
Walking for a distance, the woman abruptly stopped to turn back for a moment. Then after some hesitation, she shouted, "I'LL SEE YOU IN A COUPLE DAYS! OKAY?"
Christine bolstered herself and waved cheerfully. Her heart followed the woman who might only hear that she was missing in a couple of days, and that they'd found her rotting body in a few weeks.
Again looking at her watch, Christine saw that it was about 3:19 PM. She had eleven minutes to call her family one last time but didn't want to put her daughter through anymore - Her watch was actually a multipurpose communications-device. She'd finally set her daughter at ease and wouldn't jeopardize that without being able to console the child in person. Deciding that she needed to relieve herself thoroughly, she entered the restaurant and went straight to the restroom. She knew that the State wouldn't be provoked by her momentarily ducking from sight, only by her failure to fulfill her obligations - Besides, she didn't want those men to see her soil herself too much while she was dying. It didn't take but a few minutes and soon, she was back out on the street and headed for the corner. Yet another glance at her watch revealed that she still had a couple of minutes. Turning the corner, she saw the two men only about half a block down.
Approaching them, she teased, "Hey guys! I could've run off." She knew that was bullshit. The State could zero in on the Primary identity chip that was the birthright of everyone in the EU.
Also seeing the address on the card that she'd been given, she recognized the State's style of providing superfluous information. The redundancy had been in the men covertly giving her an address in addition to telling her where to look for them. She'd not been expected to relay anything to her husband, and the pretense had been for the benefit of her PTA acquaintance.
Peter chuckled and discounted, "Running would've been a very bad idea!" He knew that she was only kidding.
Christine accepted, "I know what I'm supposed to do."
Thomas offered, "If your friend hadn't left when she did, then we'd have had Intervention pull her out of there," and complimented, "You couldn't have handled it better!" Apparently they'd been listening in at the very least!
Also with the confidentiality lifted, Spit's family would then be allowed to share the truth with anyone - Doing so before the case had been solved would jeopardize the exercise.
Preparation En Route:
Peter declared, "It's time to get started," and got into a back passenger seat of the unofficial vehicle that had been authorized for this assignment.
With her heart still racing and holding a rose to her bosom, Christine could feel her bowels tighten and her knees grow week.
Courteously opening the door to the other back seat, Thomas gestured for Christine to get in. After she'd complied and Thomas had gotten into the driver's seat, they were underway.
Hardly anybody ever drove anymore although vehicles were available. Public transportation was now universally the preferred mode of travel but in this case, they were going to a remote location.
Peter turned to Christine and specified, "I'll need you to take off your coat and roll up your sleeve, please."
As Christine set the rose down in her lap and removed her coat, she could feel a knot forming in the pit of her stomach.
Peter exclaimed, "Ah, nice of you to wear a sleeveless blouse!" He opened a briefcase in the back seat to reveal a syringe, hypodermic needle and small bottle of solution with a red rubber stopper. He next fitted the needle and syringe together, stuck the needle through the red stopper and proceeded to draw up the solution.
Watching this, Christine began to tremble. She wasn't afraid of death per se. Again as a surrogate victim, she'd experienced death and was somewhat used to dying. She was afraid of what would be different, and because she knew what it meant.
Also UNLIKE her daughter who would follow in her footsteps, she'd never liked being a surrogate victim - Where the daughter would one day find eroticism and wealth; the mother had only found a means to an end, namely getting her family out of debt.
Still drawing up the solution into the syringe, Peter saw Christine's reaction and satisfied, "This is only a precaution to neutralize any bio-repair technology that may be in your system."
Christine assured, "I know what it is. I'm required to take it whenever I'm leased out."
Peter amended, "This is a little different though. What you're used to only temporarily neutralizes the bio-repair that kicks back in after you die. This will neutralize the bio-repair permanently. After I inject you with this, you'll become like any other human being who ever lived before the new technology became available."
With a hint of sarcasm, Christine emphasized, "I know that too! Why do you think that I'm afraid?"
Peter resigned, "Okay, I'm sorry! I'd thought that explanations might help make things easier. I'll need your arm now."
Christine submitted her arm and held it straight for Peter's easy access.
Taking off his tie, Peter apologized, "I'm sorry but I don't have a rubber armband." After tying his tie tightly around her upper arm, he found her vein, drove the needle in and began to slowly depress the syringe.
As she was being injected, Christine expressed, "Don't feel that I don't want your explanations. This is difficult for me so I can easily see how you might've gotten the wrong impression."
Having fully depressed the syringe and injected all of it's contents, Peter satisfied, "Don't worry, I understand. Now, that should do just about do it! You'll have the full effect by the time that we've reached our destination!" Withdrawing the needle from Christine's arm, he used his thumb to press a cotton ball against the point of entry. This, he told her to hold firmly and taped into position, a protocol that struck Christine as additionally non sequitur; and her own imminent demise began to take on a strange air of surrealism.
Christine addressed, "I DO want you to explain what you'll be doing. I know the outline of what needs to be done but NOT THE SPECIFICS. I didn't have time to read the entire contract."
Peter reassured, "I can do that. I can also do better than that. I'll tell you WHY everything needs to be done! If you want, then I'll also point out each obligation in the contract as we proceed."
Christine's last Walk:
Traffic was better than expected. By the advanced means of conveyance, the remote rural location that was their destination was reached more than a few minutes ahead of schedule. Exiting the vehicle first, Thomas walked around and opened the rear passenger door on Christine's side.
Drawing a deep and purging breath, Christine couldn't help but notice the refreshing cleanness of the crisp country air. She exited the vehicle as she had climbed in, with her heart racing and holding a rose to her bosom. As Thomas continued to hold the door for her, she looked at him and jibed, "Have you become my chauffeur, now?"
Hamming it up and playing the part, Thomas smiled at her, clicked his heels and rejoined, "If it so pleases you, my lady."
Carried back to the outdoor cafe and Thomas' fond mention of his first carrier choice, Christine wistfully imagined him as an actor, a very good actor. The sudden slamming of the other rear passenger door jolted her back to reality. Startled, she spun about to see that Peter had exited the vehicle.
Thomas brushed past Christine to retrieve the coat that she'd left on the back seat. Holding out the coat towards her, he required, "You'll have to bring this with you. Your clothing is a necessary part of the evidence to be left at the murder, rape scene."
Taking the coat from Thomas' hand, she queried, "Do you want me to put this on or..."
Thomas directed, "Yes, you'll need to wear it for now." Closing the remaining open door, he stepped to the rear of the vehicle, opened the trunk and took out some items. There was a sound of finality as he slammed the trunk shut. When he reemerged into full view, he had two industrial sized trash bags draped around his neck and carried a shovel in one hand.
She had anticipated that her death might be a murder, rape. Almost invariably, a surrogate victim's obligations would include enduring some form of rape as part of the extreme physical trauma. Christine's experiences in this regard were no different. Moreover this was supposed to be a violent crime scene so rape would've been par for the course. Again, she knew that her role included being murdered but hadn't read enough of the contract to be 100% sure that it included rape. Pulling on her coat, she turned to Peter and authoritatively demanded, "I'll need to see in the contract where I'm supposed to be raped!"
Drawing near to Christine, Peter accepted, "Sure!" After she'd handed him her copy of the document, he pointed out the rape clause and eased, "Don't worry about the rest. I'll show you the script as we go along." He placed the contract back into Christine's hand.
She resigned, "That's okay, I won't require you to prove anything more. Just keep me filled in. I've already seen where I'm supposed to die permanently. I mean, what can be worse than that?" She'd just seen where both men were supposed to rape her.
As Peter and Thomas each took one of Christine's hands and proceeded to lead her into a heavily wooded area, Peter advised, "Try not to think of this as permanent death. If you can put that thought out of your mind, then this won't seem like any death that you haven't already experienced."
As had happened that very morning when she'd opened and read her mail, Christine's knees buckled. Catching her before she could fall, the two escorts locked elbows with her to provide greater support. Thus she walked arm in arm, elbows locked and holding hands with her executioners, and with a rose tucked into her coat. For a while, they walked in silence, through pristine woods spotted with patches of white snow. She hadn't seen the woods since she'd been a little girl, and marveled at the birds and so many trees. She couldn't see her watch at the moment but thought that it must already be 4:00 PM or a little after. That was the time for what had been scheduled to begin. The sun was getting low and in the dead of winter, she knew that there'd be only another hour of daylight but she'd never see another sunset.
The appointed Destination:
Presently they stopped and Peter appropriated, "I'll need to take your copy of the contract. That's not supposed to be part of the evidence. Does your husband have a copy of this?"
Handing over the official copy, Christine surrendered, "Here," and disclosed, "Yes, I made another copy before leaving the house." She looked at her watch and noted that it was actually only 3:53 PM.
Peter offered, "I can still send this back to him if you want. The State has its own copies."
With an air of resignation, Christine shrugged, "It doesn't matter, Peter."
Hearing her say his name this time, Peter looked at her with a start, and decided, "I'll send it back to him anyway. He might want an extra copy for his own records." He initiated, "Do you know that forensic analysis of your remains will be part of an undergrad curriculum?"
Christine admitted, "That much I do know," and challenged, "Do you really think that there'll be enough of me left after several weeks?"
Answering the question with a question, Thomas supplied, "Do you really think that it's winter?" Holding up the trash bags and shovel, he substantiated, "No animals will know you're here, and a layer of dirt will help keep you!"
Christine felt that her earlier suspicions had been confirmed, namely that Thomas was enjoying this a little too much.
Peter added, "Don't underestimate forensics!" He next briefed, "I'm sorry but we'll have to rough you up. I'll spare you by cramming in the worst at the end, all at once. Some trauma has to come early so that you'll have time to bruise before death occurs."
Christina's heart was again pounding and her entire body had started to shake. This was her usual reaction as she'd never gotten completely used to the requirements.
Seeing this, Thomas placated, "I'm going to knock you out first, Christine. We'll do all the early trauma before you come to and you won't have to feel as much. Whatever you may think, we're not your standard sadists." Pausing, he concerned, "Are you ready?"
Holding up her palm, Christine delayed, "Please! Let's go slower and back up a little bit! WHAT trauma are we talking about?"
Setting down the trash bags and shovel, Thomas examined, "Are you sure you want to know?" He looked towards Peter and back at Christine.
Christine asserted, "Yes! I know I'm going to die but it's MY body! I want to know what's going to happen while I'm unconscious, especially if I'm COMING TO as you say. It helps me cope!"
Peter informed, "For now, it'll be contusions, a couple of hematomas, a few small subcutaneous puncture wounds, some lacerations and abrasions. These are the nonfatal injuries." He turned to Thomas and qualified, "We'll need to do the abrasions first, while she's conscious." Turning back to Christine, he expounded, "In this part of the script, we'll throw you around, rip your clothes and tear most of them off. As we do this, your obligation is to fight, bite and claw us. You'll need to get our clothing fibers and DNA on you, particularly under your fingernails."
Gaining strength, Christine took the rose from her coat and marveled, "I must admit, this is a FIRST for me! You boys aren't afraid of being hurt?" Nestling the rose out of harm's way, high in the crook of a tree, she kicked off her shoes.
Peter lightened, "Don't worry about us. We're big boys! Besides, we've got the bio-repair technology in our systems. Whatever damage you can do will be short lived."
With sardonic humor aimed at her own impending death, Christine courted, "THAT'S NOT FAIR!" She thoughtfully injected, "SHORT LIVED, Peter? Didn't you say earlier that we had some time to KILL?"
Thomas laughed, "TAKE IT OUT ON US, BABY! MAKE US PAY!"
Drawing another deep breath and continuing to gain strength, Christine supplemented, "Only one thing, Thomas! I've decided, I DON'T WANT TO BE KNOCKED OUT!" Ordinarily, being knocked out would've constituted no less than an abdication of her obligations. As much as she'd never gotten used to this, she'd never been unconscious before being killed. Also she'd decided to take Peter's advice and act as though this would be a routine and temporary death.
Pulling a small pocket knife and opening the blade, Thomas gracefully performed a sweeping low bow and effected, "As you wish, my lady!"
Without waiting to be asked again, Christine charged, "I'M READY," and lead the assault.
Not expecting her to rush gladly into battle, the two men were caught off guard. Even Thomas with a pocket knife already in hand was slow to react. With unbridled ferocity, Christine kicked and punched, scratched, gouged and bit! She let loose with a flood of adrenaline that had been building up all day. As opposed to exhausting herself quickly, she only became more fired up by the contest. Her body surged with wave upon wave of renewed power. She became a tigress, everywhere all at once, feeling as though she had superhuman strength. Except for being protected by nanotechnology, the two men had needed to fight for their very lives. Christine was so worked up with natural endorphins that she didn't feel much pain from the injuries that were being inflicted upon her. That much worked out in her favor, and she acquired the full quota of lesser trauma precisely when she was most pain resistant. This came as the result of being struck, cut, buffeted, tossed and dragged against trees, branches, dirt and rocks.
There was no victor and the contest had ended abruptly in a truce of mutual consensus. With their objectives accomplished, the combatants had simultaneously broken off attack without a word needing to be said. Having sustained a myriad of collective injuries, all three of them now lay panting on the ground. Christine was starting to develop contusions or bruises all over her body. Four hematomas were developing as opposed to the required two, these being on Christine's ear, thumb, knee and foot. With his pocket knife, Thomas had inflicted the subcutaneous puncture wounds. The required lacerations and abrasions had mostly resulted from hard impact against the environmental objects already mentioned - One laceration had been acquired through falling on the shovel. The only clothing that Christine still wore were a torn blouse with buttons missing, her panties and one white bobby sock, still neatly folded down. Other damaged articles of her clothing were strewn all over the crime scene, some in pieces. Her mouth and broken fingernails were covered in blood, Peter's and Thomas' blood.
As Christine's body reacted to her injuries in a natural manner, Peter's and Thomas' injuries began to heal spontaneously. The pain that she felt setting in was surprisingly tolerable. She didn't know how much worse it could get but realized that the answer was academic - By her somewhat resilient watch, it was about 4:06 PM and she was supposed to be dead before 4:30 PM. Practically naked in this weather, she started to feel cold. Adopting a sitting posture, she pulled her feet into the lotus position and proceeded to vigorously rub them. In less than a minute, her feet would start to feel slightly warmer.
Peter started the necessary process of documenting superficial observations about Christine's injuries - He would be more thorough later. Aside from solving the case, forensics students would be required to spot these injuries. Ever again, after Christine had decomposed for several weeks, analysis would be far more difficult but that was the point of the exercise.
Noticing a tear on Christine's cheek, Thomas retrieved her rose from the crook of the tree. Tapping her shoulder, he set the flower down on her thigh and conceded, "There's certainly no preliminary reason to knock you out now, Babe! It was only so you wouldn't feel what's already been done." Raising his eyebrows and nodding suggestively, he softly touched her cheek and reserved, "You can still be knocked out before the end! I just want you to know."
Suddenly Christine was no longer sure about how to take Thomas. He may have been enjoying himself too much but at face value, he hadn't been cruel. To the contrary, he'd been quite kind despite his apparent commitment to what the State required of him. She decided that his antics made her death more bearable and started to appreciate him - She'd already appreciated Peter. Toying with Thomas' last statement, she explored, "Should I be knocked out?"
Before Thomas could answer, Peter delineated, "Combined with your preliminary wounds, the semen from your authorized assailants shall suffice to simulate a double rape for the forensics students. No additional physical trauma will be necessary while the semen is being deposited vaginally."
Thomas included, "This is the easiest obligation that you will need to perform."
Once more reflecting on Thomas' first carrier choice, Christine mocked, "PERFORM? I guess that makes us BOTH actors for the State. Eh, Thomas?"
Thomas kept silent but looked at Christine in amazement.
Peter produced a dispenser of Pheromist and asked, "How would you like to do this, Christine?" Pheromist was the brand name of a fast acting, synthetic type of pheromone that came in the form of a nasal spray. Inhaled during copulation or some other form of sexual activity, it would promote orgasm or ejaculation within a few seconds.
It was obvious to Christine that Peter was asking how she wanted to copulate, and was going to employ the Pheromist for expediency. Blushing, Christine answered, "It doesn't matter. Whatever is preferable to you."
Moving an open palm skyward in a lifting gesture, he called, "Stand up!"
Pulling her feet out of the lotus position, Christine started to rise with the rose in her hand. In the initial effort, she experienced a sharp and sudden pain in her side that caused her to sit back down involuntarily. She hadn't noticed this pain before but further efforts at standing convinced her that she might've broken a lower rib. Unable to rise without acute pain, she alerted, "I may have broken a rib when we were fighting but I'm not sure!"
Seeing her difficulty, both Peter and Thomas helped Christine to stand. While Thomas steadied her, Peter documented additional observations about her injuries that were becoming more and more apparent. Although there was no external bruise where her side hurt, his pressing the spot caused her to wince in pain. As he was pressing directly on one of her floating ribs, he concurred that the rib might be either a broken or fractured one. He also observed and documented that Christine was lactating but said nothing about this. As Thomas continued to help support her, Peter slid off her panties and stimulated her vulva with his fingers until she had become lubricated. After inserting his penis into her vagina, he squirted the Pheromist into each of his nostrils. With Christine holding onto his shoulders and clutching a rose, he proceeded to thrust vigorously. The product lived up to its reputation and he ejaculated within seconds.
In ever increasing pain, Christine looked at Thomas and forewarned, "I'm sorry, my side is hurting so badly that I don't think I can stand up anymore." Aside from that, her feet now felt practically frozen but she didn't complain about the cold.
After the two men had helped Christine back into a seated position, Thomas instituted, "Does it hurt to put your feet up onto your thighs?" He was referring to the lotus position that he'd seen her maintain with no problem.
Christine temporarily threaded the stem of her rose through a buttonhole of her torn blouse. Easily reassuming the yoga position, she smiled and resolved, "No, Thomas, it doesn't hurt." She'd decided to make the most of her last few minutes. Rubbing her soles and glancing at her watch, she saw that it was now past 4:17 PM.
Thomas turned to Peter and implored, "Do me a favor and lie down right behind Christine! I'll need you on your stomach and with your hip right up against her coccyx." After Peter had looked at him suspiciously as though he'd lost his mind, Thomas dramatically supplicated on bended knee and beseeched, "PLEASE!"
Christine entreated, "Do it, Peter! Please, do it for me!" She couldn't help but laugh even though laughing hurt.
Peter complied and Thomas made him slightly readjust his position to exact specifications. Next grasping Christine by the knees, Thomas gently rocked her backwards onto Peter's buttocks until her shoulders rested upon the ground - This was made easy by the rigidity of her lotus position. With her hips now sufficiently off the ground, Thomas was easily able to penetrate her while remaining upright in a very wide stance. Squirting the Pheromist into his own nostrils, Thomas did the same for Christine after obtaining her consent. By the engineered pheromone, he ejaculated almost immediately; and Christine couldn't help but writhe in ecstasy, a few seconds later. Walking around to grasp Christine's shoulders, Thomas then tipped her back up, over Peter's prostrate form until she was again siting on the ground.
Unlocking her feet from their folded positions against her thighs, Christine was helped back into a standing position with a rose in her hand. With extreme anxiety over what was about to happen next, she became less cognizant of the pain in her side. Her watch now showed about 4:21 PM.
For the last time while Christine was still alive, Peter recorded observations about the appearance of her injuries - By this time, his own and Thomas' injuries were completely healed. He finalized, "Well, that's about it, Christine! Your injuries have ripened sufficiently and we're almost done. I know you're a little nervous but this will be your last contractual obligation!"
Thomas softly reminded, "Christine, I can still knock you out if you want."
Christine declined, "No, not if you can make it quick. It won't be necessary. I've experienced horrible death while being conscious before."
Looking at his own watch, Peter atoned, "I'm sorry, dear. I know, I told you that this should've been over in a few minutes but it's okay. We're on schedule and the State will be satisfied. It's understandable, you hadn't had time to read the contract and required some explanations."
Christine had again started to shake but in a curious moment of introspection, noticed that her greatest discomfort was being physically cold. She thought that she might be shivering as opposed to trembling but wasn't sure.
Taking a breath, Peter detailed, "There's one more thing to explain. You will be shot three times at pointblank range from two handguns, calibrated to promote wound channels of different depths. The three shots will be identical, solid and jacketed round nose bullets that will neither deform nor cause permanent cavitation. Two bullets from one gun will penetrate transversely and lodge in your chest and abdomen, directed to inflict slow acting mortal wounds but don't worry. One bullet from the other gun will penetrate longitudinally and lodge along your body axis, directed to cause death within seconds. Forensics students will be expected to discover which shot killed you as well as its trajectory that will be obfuscated. This shot will be discharged into your vagina so that no exterior point of entry will be visible. Once your heart has stopped..."
Holding up one hand and closing her eyes, Christine arrested, "Wait, wait! Stop, stop, stop! Give me a minute to assimilate this!" While her eyes remained closed for a few moments, hardly a minute, she bowed her head and moved her lips as though talking to herself.
Peter and Thomas maintained silence in observance but both knew that she wasn't talking to herself. Thomas likewise closed his eyes and bowed his head.
Opening her eyes, she looked up at Peter and abridged, "Once my heart has stopped, it won't matter but go ahead, from where you left off."
Clearing his throat, Peter carried on, "Once your heart has stopped, the location of the fatal bullet will be determined. That's the bullet intended to kill you first." He held up a scanning device, showed it to Christine and finished, "It should traverse along your body axis to about the middle of your chest or higher. A posthumous chest wound with powder burns but no bullet will then extend through your heart and terminate at the location of the fatal bullet. Thus the trajectory of the fatal bullet will be obfuscated by a false trajectory. Furthermore in being trained to spot a posthumous wound, students might conclude that the fatal wound was one of the other two wounds. Additional posthumous wounds will be inflicted. The exercise should prove exceedingly difficult and only those students who get everything right will pass the course with top honors."
Both Peter and Thomas then looked at each other, and Thomas asked Christine, "Do you have any last requests?"
After glancing at her watch for the last time, Christine concerned, "Are we on time? My watch has stopped."
Thomas answered, "Yes, we've got three minutes but this should only take a few seconds. It's okay if we run over by a minute or two, depending on your requests."
Christine appealed, "WHAT I WOULD LIKE is to go home and live with my family," and settled, "BUT HELP ME walk over to that mound of snow. I would like to die on the snow." It was a virgin patch of snow, as yet untrodden.
As she was led to the snow patch, Christine had once more locked elbows with both men but only held hands with Peter because her other hand clutched a rose. Balking a step short of her destination, she squirmed to shake off the arms that supported her. Once she had been released, she sank onto her knees and into the chaste white patch. There she grasped a handful of snow and ate some, feeling it dissolve in her mouth and slide refreshingly down her throat. Although she could still see the sun through the trees, the air had grown much colder and the woods had become almost silent. In the lengthening shadows, she ate some more snow from her hand. Then looking up with frozen whiteness encrusted about her mouth, she smiled at the two men and brightened, "I wanted to do that. Help me up." After they had helped her to her feet, she stepped onto the snow patch. Using one foot to pin down the tip of her remaining bobby sock, she slid out the other foot and now stood with two bare feet in the snow. Looking at the two men, she again asked, "Are we on time?"
Peter looked at his watch and said, "Yes, we have a little over a minute but it'll be over before then."
Still supporting her, Thomas stood directly in front of Christine and instructed, "Put both of your hands on my shoulders."
Doing as she had been told, Christine felt Thomas let go of her and place something unyielding against her bosom. Supporting herself by pressing forcefully against Thomas' shoulders, she gazed sternly into his eyes and encouraged, "You could still be an actor, you know! It's not too late!"
Thomas softly returned, "Thank you, Christine! Thank you for being the person whom you are! Thank you for everything!"
Sensing Peter kneel down behind her, Christine felt a cold and hard object being gently but deeply worked into her vagina. She cooperated as he repositioned her feet and optimally aligned her body. In position, she grimaced in feeling the object being painfully leveraged to effect the desired trajectory.
After apologizing to Christine, Peter told Thomas, "We'll both fire at once when I tap your foot." Finally he prepared, "Christine, this'll be quick. Immediately after we've both fired, Thomas will dispense the third round into your abdomen. Are you ready?"
Drawing her last deep breath, Christine profoundly sighed, "Yes, I'm ready. Goodbye everyone!" She tightened her grip on the rose, held in a fist pressed hard against Thomas' shoulder.
With her own heart pounding in her ears, Christine no longer looked at Thomas. She looked past him, into the woods. She focused on an empty space where there might've been something but there was nothing. She thought to focus on something tangible but before she could, there were three reports, two that were almost simultaneous and a third that came a couple of seconds later. Beyond anything that she'd experienced in her previous deaths, Christine felt searing pain throughout her chest and body core. She was so overloaded by the initial pain that the final transverse aftershock had registered as mere background noise. Paralyzed and unable to even fall, she could only remain standing. A moment later, she felt no pain and realized with startling lucidity, her trauma had been so horrendous that she was instantly going into shock. Feeling her face flush and looking down, she saw her abdomen distending unrecognizably and knew that this was from massive internal bleeding. As the blood then began to pour out of her, onto the once virgin patch of snow, her energy level rose sharply for a few brief seconds. Christine knew that the deceptive adrenaline tide was a desperate fight or flight response of her body that was quickly dying.
She heard Thomas say, "It's okay, honey. You can let go whenever you're ready," but she wasn't looking at Thomas or even at herself anymore. She was looking back into the woods, this time focusing on the deer that she saw, frozen in its tracks and looking attentively at her. Having heard that deer were extinct, she knew neither where this one had come from nor why it hadn't run off. Yet there it was! No longer able to breathe and her heart shutting down, she focused intently on the deer. She thought it was the most beautiful thing that she'd ever seen. Christine wished that her daughter could see the deer... her little daughter... her family... They'd be all right now... Through renewed tears of joy, Christine smiled sweetly one more time, bowed her head and slumped.
A rose fell to the ground.
Just before Christine had fallen to the ground, Thomas had seen her expression as she'd looked over his shoulder. Apparently the lovely woman had been astonished by something that she'd seen behind him. Curiously turning around and scanning that part of the woods, he saw nothing save for the trees and ever deepening shadows. Turning to Peter, he investigated, "Did you just see anyone?" He swept a hand in the general direction and indicated, "That way! She was looking at something."
Peter declared, "No, not really but I wasn't looking over there." He shrugged, "Who knows. It could've been anything." Bending down, he pressed two fingers firmly against the left carotid artery in Christine's neck and made a silent observation.
Pricked by his conscience and shaking his head, Thomas prompted, "Is she?"
Peter affirmed, "She's done, Thomas. She was really something, wasn't she?"
Thomas appreciated, "Yes, she was! I think, I want out of this line of work."
We now leave Peter and Thomas who have important work to do. This includes decapitating Christine's body and cutting out the Primary identity chip from her left buttock - In a few weeks, academia's finest prospects would have their work cut out for them.
As a final note, I will only add that Thomas changed his identity shortly thereafter, courtesy of the State. From there, he went on to become a most highly acclaimed actor. Then at the top of his game and for reasons that none of his fans completely understood, he became a reclusive philanthropist until his death - Most people only know that despite fame and fortune, he'd ever seemed to carry an aura of abject sadness about him.