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FREEDOM: Class Warfare
Part Seven
Game Over
By Razor7826 (Copyright 2008)
Thoughts? Encouragement? Email me at Razor7826@hotmail.com. I’m always interested in hearing from my readers.
This story in no way reflects the views of the author. It is intended for the eyes of legal adults only.
No good can come from this decision. It will be heralded as a monument of human freedom in the short run, but the coming decades will inundate us with a constant stream of atrocities born from today’s ruling. There is no doubt in my mind that it is the worst Supreme Court judgment in nearly one-hundred years. I wish I were wrong, but this is the beginning of a truly horrific era for the United States.
-Hannah Goodheart, Columnist for the Wickerton Bee
Judy Goodheart hung from the balcony of her rival’s lodge, her arms spread to her sides and bound with layers of packing tape. Though her lips too wore the same brown gag as her friends and classmates, it was not yet needed.
“Cut her down,” commanded Elizabeth Monseto as she stood among the defiled bodies of her victims. “It’s time for their queen to suffer the same fate as her peasants.”
Two men climbed to stairs to the top of the balcony and snipped the reams of tape that kept Judy suspended. She dropped to the floor in a heap, all the while her glare landing wherever the weight of her head would allow it.
“Bring her here.”
Her classmates complied. They slipped her arms behind their shoulders and dragged her to the center of main hall, forcing her to her knees, surrounded by her new owners.
Elizabeth Monseto grabbed a clump of the girl’s hair and pulled it up, forcing Judy to look up at her. With a quick stab of a needle, movement returned to the captive’s muscles.
“How does it feel to have fucked up your entire life?”
Silence. Though it had been hours since the brutal celebration had begun, Judy’s cheeks were still flush red.
Elizabeth slid her hand down Judy’s cheek and grabbed a corner of the tape gag. “Oh, that.” With a clean and painful tear, it was gone.
“Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Elizabeth smiled. She stared down at her slave with pride and gave her first command. “Why don’t you apologize, Judy?”
It took her a few moments to regain her composure. But still, she continued, sobbing and stuttering the entire time. “I… I’m so sorry! I’m sorry! Oh my God, I… I… I’m sorry. I thought we would win, I swear!”
The eyes of her classmates all stared back at her with contempt.
“Please… I thought we would win. I was certain of it.”
“But you lost.”
“I…”
“Tell them what’s in store for them.”
“I…”
“Tell them they are going to be slaves for the rest of their lives and that it’s all your fault.”
“You’re… You’re going to be slaves for the rest your lives… and it’s all my fault!”
“Louder!”
“It’s all my fault! It’s all my fault! It’s all my fault!” Her words echoed throughout the room as everyone, both her friends and enemies, watched in stunned silence. She meant every word of her confession, and the intensity of her voice carried that to everybody that watched. Judy Goodheart, senior class president of Seven Saints High School, daughter of two loving parents and big sister to three younger siblings, was no more. Lured by the temptation of money to ensure a good life for her impoverished family, she placed every thing on the line and lost.
It would be a decision she would regret for the rest of her life. That was something that Elizabeth Monseto would be sure of.
The silence was broken by the laughter of the enemy queen.
“Good job, Judy. Now, come over here.”
But Judy did not move.
Elizabeth took a step forward and rolled up her short black skirt. She was not wearing panties underneath, a strict violation of her school’s dress code. “It is time for you to learn, Judy.”
“What?”
“Don’t make me ask. A slave should know what to do.”
She turned away, and looked at the boys and girls that had squandered their lives because of her leadership and false confidence. Each and every one of their tortures had broken her heart. Compared to their suffering, her own torments would mean nothing.
Her eyes darted back and forth between her friends bruised, bloody, and cum covered bodies, and the shaven snatch of Elizabeth Monseto. The rival queen beckoned her closer, and at that moment Judy decided her own fate.
She would be a good and obedient slave. While her original wish was to rid the world of Monseto’s blight, it was no longer an obtainable goal. However, by pleasing her, sating her desires and occupying her time, Judy Goodheart could still bring some good into the world, no matter how much it hurt her body and pride to do so.
Judy Goodheart, eldest daughter of two kind and loving parents, crawled forward on her knees and buried her face inside her rival’s crotch. She didn’t know what to do, but she would learn.
But even the eternally lustful Elizabeth Monseto did not spend the entire evening enjoying the pleasures of her newest pet, for the failed leader was not her property alone. No, she belonged to the entire team, and they had a right to her body too.
Judy fulfilled her obligations without an extra tear. Though she was a weak and foolish leader, her resolve was true. She sucked their cocks and accepted them inside her while allowing the groping hands of man and woman alike. It took every ounce of strength to not puke at their revolting taste, but she swallowed her pride—and their cum.
It was only the beginning of Judy Goodheart’s new life. She was a very special girl, for few women can ever make such a grave mistake that leads to the enslavement of all her closest friends.
+++++++
That fateful, foolish, and immoral game ended with the defeat of Seven Saints High School. Tempted by wealth and fueled by greed, ten girls and five boys lost their freedom and became the property of their sworn enemies, doomed to a life of servitude.
But that is not the end of this story. Their adult lives have just begun, and there are countless threads of fate to follow, all of which trace back to this singular travesty-- stories of the misery that plagued the lives of the losers, of Judy’s unending regret for her role in the disaster, of the worldwide outrage sparked by that despicable game, of the brothel that was opened to meet the public demand, of the reporters that sought to document the travesty, of the coordination difficulties with having joint property, of Elizabeth Monseto’s mysterious disappearance, or the silver lining in the lives of those who once faced unending sorrow. Those unfortunate students from Seven Saints still have stories to tell, filled with rape and torture, but also a brief glimmer of human emotions and hope, always lingering at the end of a decades-long tunnel.
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