Chapter 12. Breathe Play

Zatanna pulled Beatriz around to face her and hugged the sobbing Brazilian-born girl tightly to her chest. It was the only thing Zatanna could think of doing to force Beatriz’s horror-filled eyes off of Tora’s head as it dangled over the stage floor. “She’s gone, Beatriz!” Zatanna whispered mournfully, tears streaming down her own face. “Sweet Tora is lost to us!”

“NO!” Beatriz bawled. “It can’t be so! This is just some sort of terrible nightmare!”

“I wish that were true, Beatriz,” Zatanna replied softly, remorse evident in her voice, “but it isn’t. We can only take solace in the brave way she faced her final minutes, and in the way she embraced every experience to live life to the fullest. She left us many fond memories. We must never forget her, but I think she would want us to move on with our own lives rather than dwell on her passing.”

“But I tricked her into coming to this terrible place!” Beatriz whined shrilly. “I didn’t tell her about the dangers here. I selfishly wanted her to be with me. I was the one that murdered her…not that man with the sword!”

“You may not have explained things before we reached the streets outside of this building, Beatriz,” Zatanna whispered as she continued to console the green-haired girl, “but she was informed of the dangers while we were still outside, and could have had us take her home. You didn’t cause her death, nor did Kevin, in spite of the fact that he tried to volunteer her to face every danger possible. The man with the Samurai sword was merely the instrument of her death. The cause of her death was a random generator and bad luck.”

Before Beatriz could reply, Zatanna pushed her away and commanded, “Beatriz, look at me! This is no different than our regular careers; when those fighting evil alongside us go down, we redouble our efforts to make justice prevail. When we entered this building, we agreed to play by Club X rules until after the lottery. We still have two of these so-called ‘games of chance’ events before the lottery, and I’m sure that Tyler will try to get me risked as a sow in both of them. Additionally, if I understand the ‘code of ethics’ for escorts here, Ted has to offer you as a potential sow in at least one of those events. We have to pull ourselves together and be prepared to play whatever death game we find ourselves in to the best of our ability. Now, hush!” urged Zatanna as she once again held Beatriz tightly against her chest. “Let us just hug each other until the next event.” Zatanna’s frown became less intense as Beatriz’s sobs gradually subsided.

Janet, like Wanda and Sue, had watched in silence as the two Justice Leaguers embraced and shared each other’s grief. Now she turned her attention to the jubilant Kevin who was boisterously chattering with the heroines’ escorts. He was acting like the high school quarterback who had just scored the game winning touchdown. What’s more, the other escorts were treating him as if he were that high school hero as they high-fived him, patted him on the back, or shook his hand—even Andy.

Janet suddenly realized these unmarried escorts had a role in this Club X society—to get un-papered sows to risk getting converted to meat in the games and lottery, and to feel good about it as they did so, so they would come back and risk themselves again if they made it through the night. The primary reason for requiring a Club X member’s wife to be part of every event was to aid in this effort to make the un-papered girls feel good about taking this risk; even if it meant losing some of the wives.

Janet shook her head and frowned; she felt stupid for not doing the math earlier, before they had lost Tora. Marge had said there would be about sixty numbers entered into the lottery, so there were sixty wives or un-papered girls, guests, available to be meat. The Grand Master had said that there would need to be at least nine wives or guests volunteered to be live-roasters along with the three girls who had already been volunteered, to REPLACE the long pigs that had been put over the roasting pits in the morning. That meant they needed twelve girls to be converted to meat before the night was over. Twenty percent, twelve of sixty, of the girls that entered this room at the start of the evening were going to die tonight, and it sounded like about one-third of the women present would end up as food, either long pigs or live-roasters, for Club X’s Sunday barbecue.

Janet shivered and looked back to Andy, who was still with the other escorts laughing with Kevin about his success in helping to contribute meat for the barbecue. Andy had made it clear; he would put Janet in play as a potential sow in at least one of the next two events. Counting the lottery, Janet’s life would be at risk at least two times tonight before Bill Jennings took the surviving heroines to his club. If Janet was lucky, her number wouldn’t get hit by the random generator and selected to play the game or to be a lottery finalist; that thought didn’t allow her to stop shivering.

Janet looked out to the stage floor. The equipment from the previous event had been cleared, and the stagehands were finally carrying away the two girls’ bodies; two severed heads remained hanging over the stage. They would be setting up the next event soon; Janet thought it likely they would alternate edge play with breathe play. Janet would bet money she would soon be standing in front of Andy as he raised his hand, indicating his willingness to risk her being chosen as a sow in the next event. Janet laughed, thinking, ‘This girls’ night out to Club X really blows!’

Several minutes later, the two severed heads had finally been taken down and disposed of, and the stagehands had finished setting up the props for the next event. The Master of the Games once again stepped to his lectern, and announced, “Gentlemen of Club X, wives, and guests, our third game of chance is, ‘Sows and Garrotes’. As you can see from the four chairs in the center of the stage, there will be four contestants in this event, at least one of which must be a club member’s wife.”

“Each of the chairs is equipped with wrist straps, elbow straps, ankle straps, knee straps, and a garrote,” the Master of the Games explained, pointing as he spoke. “The four garrotes are controlled by a single tightening mechanism. The event will begin with the garrotes snug around each sow’s neck, and then they will be slowly tightened, the tightening mechanism’s sensors ensuring that the pressure being exerted on the four sows’ necks is equal. After an elapsed time of one minute, the poker you see in the coals on the kitchen side of the stage, will be applied, white hot, to one sow’s clitoris, obliterating the tiny organ. After an elapsed time of two minutes, one of the other three sows will have her breasts removed with shears. After an elapsed time of three minutes, the two damaged sows and one of the two undamaged sows will be released from the chairs and allowed to watch the fourth, unlucky, sow take the ever tightening garrote until she expires and becomes meat.”

The Master of the Games smiled and held his hands wide as he looked into the audience, and chortled, “So, here we have an event where there is only a one in four chance that your wife or ward, should you chose to offer her as a sow and her number is chosen by the random generator, will intentionally become meat. I say intentionally because occasionally a sow’s neck breaks or a sow expires from lack of oxygen before the three minutes have elapsed, but let us not dwell on bad luck and poorly conditioned sows. Which of you gentlemen as husbands will volunteer your wives to become sows as they play this game of chance?”

The Master of the Games watched as nine men stood, pulled women up in front of them, and raised their hands. He entered the numbers on the armbands of the nine girls into the computer.

“Which of you gentlemen as escorts will volunteer your wards to become sows as they play this game of chance?” the Master of the Games asked, looking out into the crowd. He smiled as he saw many men rising, trying to play their appointed roles as Club X guardians in an event they could pawn off on their wards as being low risk, even though only one of four sows would leave the stage floor in the same condition she entered it.

As she expected, Janet felt Andy rise to his feet behind her and pull her up in front of him as he stood with his right hand raised high. The spunky heroine glanced around her, and could see that Wanda, Sue, Zatanna, and Beatriz were also on their feet standing before Evan, Dan, Tyler, and Ted. There were a lot of un-papered girls being offered as potential sows for the event, so it took a while for the Master of the Games to enter the numbers into the computer.

The Master of the Games, having finally entered all of the numbers of the wards being offered as potential sows in the event, activated his computer program. Seconds later he frowned as he announced, “This is a bit unusual for this event. The random generator has selected two club members’ wives to become sows in this event; the selected girls are wearing numbers 24 and 52, and are now deemed sows 24 and 52.”

Janet fidgeted nervously as she heard the first two numbers announced, and then listened anxiously as she heard the Master of the Games say, “The numbers of the two wards selected to become sows in this event are 43 and…” Janet heard herself gasp in surprise and fear as her number was read. Her mind raced as she found herself thinking, ‘Oh shit! No…I’ll be fine! Just one chance in four! Just don’t let one of my friends be sitting beside me…increasing the chances of another disaster to fifty-fifty!’ Janet heard herself gasp again, this time in relief, as the club official continued, saying, “…14. Sows 24, 52, 43, and 14 are to report to the stage floor forthwith and stand before the chairs from right to left in the order I announced the numbers.” Janet quickly took a hug from Andy, followed by a hug from each of her four heroine friends, before hurrying down to the stage.

Soon Janet stood in a lineup before the heavy wooden torture chairs with the three other sows being offered up as potential meat. “Sows, stand facing your chair with your hands behind your backs and your feet spread just wider than shoulder width while the stagehands demonstrate their equipment before securing you into your chair,” the Master of the Games commanded from his lectern. The four sows obeyed immediately.

Tony, standing behind the chairs on Janet’s side of the stage, the kitchen side, winked quickly at Janet before walking to the poker in the coals. He began showing the hot iron to each girl one at a time, starting with Sow 14, a beautiful doe-eyed black girl with long, raven locks, a well-toned body, and huge, slightly drooping D-cups tipped with brownish nipples and areolas. She hardly reacted as Tony held the white hot tip of the poker first before her eyes and then beneath her sex.

Tony took one step to his left and thrust the long, narrow tip of the white-hot iron before Janet’s blue eyes so that she could see the hollowed out end designed to fit around the glans of a clitoris, cooking the little organ as the iron was pushed inward in alignment with the clitoral shaft. Then he held the tip of the incandescent instrument between Janet’s legs, just below her privates, so that she could feel the heat wafting up into her sex. Janet smiled nervously at Tony, although she desperately hoped that she would get the iron when the event started so that she would know her life was most likely safe.

Tony pulled the iron back and stepped to the left to stand before sow 52, a stunning hazel-eyed Grade-A blonde with shoulder length hair and perfect pinkish-tipped C-cups. She gave Tony a friendly, encouraging smile as he dropped the iron from her face to her sex, before pulling the hot metal back and stepping to the left again, to stand before sow 24. Sow 24 was Stacy, the blue-eyed 18-year-old brunette with smallish B cups tipped with brownish nipples and areolas, who had made it to the second round of the dart game. Stacy looked very uncomfortable as the iron was held before her eyes, and then terrified as the hot metal was held between her legs before Tony finally removed it and returned it to the brazier of hot coals.

Tony walked to the main entrance side of the lineup and picked up a pair of shears, very much like oversized lawn shears, which had been setting on a silver tray. Starting with sow 24 he closed the shears twice before each sow’s eyes so that she could observe the cutting action, and then placed the open shears, facing upward under each sow’s right breast. When it was Janet’s turn, she could feel the razor sharpness of the blades, and knew the shears would slice off her breasts effortlessly if that was the fate she drew. Given the choice of losing her breasts earlier than planned, or being one of two girls waiting to see if they had drawn the short straw, Janet knew she would gratefully take the shears. Once Tony had finished his trip down the lineup, he returned the shears to the silver tray.

Tony walked behind the chairs and picked up a wooden mallet having a head that was cored with lead. He used the mallet to whack the back of Janet’s chair, just below the garret, and a pointed spike popped out of the chair back in a position where the center of her neck would be tightly secured. Janet recognized what the spike was for; it would be most unfortunate if a sow deemed dead from strangulation suddenly sat up in the meat room, but that wouldn’t happen because the spike would be used to sever the spinal cord running through the neck of the sow that drew the ultimate short straw in this event.

The demonstration complete, Tony and the other stagehand began securing the sows to their chairs, beginning with sows 14 and 24. Soon, Tony had turned Janet around and pushed her backwards into her chair. He secured her ankles to the outside corners of the torture chair using built-in ankle cuffs. Then he used twine, which he pulled through small metal rings on the front outside corners of the chairs to secure her knees wide, exposing her privates to the audience, and to the tip of the white-hot poker if that was to be her fate. Then he secured Janet’s wrists with built in wrist cuffs, and tied her elbows to the spike-covered chair arms with twine. Then he closed the garrote, attached to the back of the chair on the right side of Janet’s neck, by rotating it to the left and bolting it to its retracting frame.

The garrote consisted of one-inch diameter steel cable covered with soft plastic which circled the front of the neck below the larynx. The way the frame was constructed, most of the pressure, as the garrote was tightened, would be placed of the garroted victim’s trachea rather than the carotid arteries, and thus cerebral ischemia would only join asphyxiation in contributing to the sow’s termination in the later stages of the garroting. This reduced the likelihood of any sows that ended up being released at the end of the three minutes suffering brain damage due to blood flow to the brain being completely occluded.

“Master of the Games, the sows are fully secured,” Tony reported loudly. “I can initiate the tightening of the garrotes at your command.”

“Very well,” the Master of the Games replied in his most official tone, “let us get this event underway. Start tightening the garrotes…NOW!” The stage floor official activated his timer as soon as he heard a click as Tony flipped a switch on the chairs’ controller. The four sows began choking immediately as they felt pressure on their throats, with advanced mechanisms making sure that the pressure being exerted by each of the four garrotes was exactly the same.

As Janet felt the garrote tighten around her neck, she tried to fight to preserve her airway and the flow of blood to her brain by tensing and expanding her neck muscles. Janet had employed this technique with some benefit in the past while being hanged, where the noose’s main pressure point was on the side of the neck. In this case, the garrote’s principal pressure point was on the trachea, at the front of the throat and lacking protective muscles. Recognizing this, Janet struggled to fill her lungs now while, as difficult as it was, she still could. Additionally, while she couldn’t fight the choke reflex, she fought make sure she didn’t expel air as she choked and gagged.

“Oh! NO!” Sue cried out stridently, out in the audience. “The garrote has only been drawn tight for only a few seconds, but Janet’s face has already grown quite red. Also, she’s choking terribly. We can’t lose another…we can’t have someone else killed before our very eyes!”

Wanda quickly grabbed Sue’s left hand with her right hand, and gave it a squeeze, as she whispered, “Easy, Sue, Janet is one tough girl, and, while her face may already be red, she will be able to fight the garrote for a long time before giving up her last breath. All we can do is hope beyond hope that she makes it through this alive.”

On the stage floor, an eternity seemed to pass as the garrote slowly grew tighter and tighter around Janet’s neck. Then she sensed Tony and the other stagehand begin to circle to the front of chairs, Tony’s comrade crossing in front of the entire line of choking sows to pick up the white hot poker. The man then retraced his path, pausing before each sow in the lineup to let her feel the heat of the incandescent metal on her privates along the way; this caused each sow in turn to panic as she thought it was her sexual center that would be burned away. Then the Master of the Games announced, “One Minute!” This was followed by a click, as a light came on at the base of one of the chairs; the sows couldn’t see the light, but the stagehands and the audience could.

“Hey, Tony, would you hold her lips open so I got a clear shot at her clit?” the man with the poker asked and then chuckled.

“You got it, Estaban,” Tony replied softly as he moved from his position in front of sow 14 to stand in front of Janet. Janet smiled in relief, knowing that the girl that got burned wouldn’t be the one left in the garrote at the end of the event, and began to ready herself for the pain. Then Tony stepped to his right and sow 52 gasped in fear. However, Tony took another step to his right, to stand before Stacy, the girl nearest the main chamber entrance.

Tony bent at his waist, and nimbly opened Stacy’s labial lips with his left forefinger and thumb, while whispering, “Hold your breath tightly, girl, and try not to scream! You don’t want to lose your air, as it’s going to be difficult if not impossible to get it back into your lungs once it’s gone.” Tony licked his right middle finger and used it to gently rub and circle Stacy’s clitoris until the little button was engorged with blood. “She’s ready, Estaban,” Tony announced.

Estaban carefully but quickly covered the swollen love button with the hollowed tip of the white hot poker and pushed firmly forward. Stacy let out a long, loud, blood curdling scream in spite of the tight garrote around her throat as she took the excruciating pain that accompanied the destruction of her clitoris and its sensitive bundle of nerves. The smell of cooked meat permeated the stage area, and a low hissing sound could be heard coming from below the tip of the poker. The scream ended abruptly as Stacy passed out from the agony.

“That’s enough, Estaban,” Tony said softly, looking up at his co-worker, “that clit is history. Probably the sow too! I told her not to scream.” Tony watched as Estaban pulled the poker back and returned it to the brazier filled with hot coals, and then both men returned to their positions behind the chairs.

Janet couldn’t twist her head, but she could look sideways with her eyes and could hear the sounds being made and words as they were spoken. She had watched Stacy’s legs tense and quiver as her sexual center had been destroyed, listened to Stacy’s long scream in spite of Tony’s warning against doing so, and, finally, she had heard Tony’s prognosis. Janet began shaking; she had hoped to be the one to get burned so that her fate would not be up in the air—it could have been her own invaluable air that had been wasted on a scream!

As the garrotes slowly continued to be drawn ever tighter around the sows’ necks, Janet began to get the familiar headache that she usually got the first minute into a hanging. She knew it meant that the garrote was now pushing into the side of her neck enough to impair blood flow in her carotid arteries. If the flow of blood through her jugulars was blocked completely, her brain would begin to die fairly rapidly. Janet fought to tense her muscles, to protect the arteries from collapse as best she could, even though using muscles meant burning oxygen that was getting scarce in her hemoglobin.

Out in the audience, Wanda was fidgeting now. Janet’s face was beet red, and she looked like she was in agony. “How much longer, Sue?” Wanda asked after watching the torture continue for what seemed to be an eternity.

“I don’t know for sure,” Sue replied softly, “being naked and without a watch, but it seems like the clock should be running down. I pity the girl who took the poker to her pleasure button. Look at her struggle, attempting to suck a little air past the garrote.”

“There is more than a minute left,” Zatanna interjected. “They said one of the girls would be debreasted at the two-minute mark.”

“Look, that main stagehand, Tony, just crossed behind the chairs and picked up the shears and plate,” Beatriz shrilled pointing towards the stage. “I hate to say this, but it would be best for Janet to get the shears…if she can keep her air as she is debreasted!”

On the stage, Tony, carrying the shears and silver tray, handed the tray to Estaban. He glanced down at Stacy and shook his head. Starting with the blonde to Janet’s left and ending with the black girl to Janet’s right, Tony let each girl in turn feel the cold steel on her rib cage and the sharp edges of the shear blades on the sides of her left breast. The two stagehands patiently waited until the Master of the Games announced, “Two Minutes!” Then there was a click as one of the lights at the base of one of the chairs was switched on.

Janet frowned as she heard Tony say, “Estaban, could you hold those melons out away from her chest one at a time? There is going to be a lot of bacon piled on that tray!” Janet knew her perky C-cups were not likely to be called melons in this top-heavy century.

Sow 14 gasped in surprise as she felt her right nipple get roughly tugged by the stagehand and then watched wide-eyed as Tony knelt and positioned the shears in cutting position under her rotund right breast. She whined in fear and then shook in agony as Tony slowly closed the shear handles and the sharp blades began cutting into the sides of her breast meat. Three seconds later, the mammary came free of sow 14’s chest and into Estaban’s right hand. Estaban placed the severed breast, nipple-up, on the silver tray he now carried like a waiter in his left hand, and then grabbed the sows left nipple to stretch her remaining breast out for cutting. Tony slowly sheared that breast off, smiling up to the sow’s agony filled face. Soon that breast was free of the sow’s chest and nipple-up in Estaban’s tray, which Estaban quickly placed on the floor in front of sow 14 so that she would have to intentionally look away to not stare at the breasts she once proudly carried on her chest.

As the two stagehands walked to retake their positions at the back of the chairs, Tony whispered, “You took the debreasting well, girl, and without wasting much air. Good job!” Tony shook his head and smiled as he noted the girl staring forlornly at her breasts on the tray before her feet. She seemed unaware of the few rivulets of blood on her torso below her wounds.

Janet began shaking in fear. She now knew that there was a fifty percent chance that she would be turned into meat, executed by the very garrote that continued to get ever tighter around her neck. The worst part of the experience was being helpless to do anything about it. Her life or death was totally in the hands of a random generator.

“Janet’s face is so very purple now,” Sue observed in the audience with a quaking voice. She also had realized that there was a one in two chance that the heroines would lose another friend.

“Yes,” Wanda agreed softly, “but it has been a while since the debreasting, so she doesn’t have a too many seconds to go without air.” Just then Janet began jerking around in her chair, fighting her bonds, and desperately trying to exhale through her compressed trachea.

“What’s happening to Janet?” Sue asked stridently. “Is she…dying?”

“No, not yet,” Zatanna answered softly. “What you are seeing is Janet’s response to a phenomenon called ‘air hunger’. It isn’t happening because her oxygen is completely used up. It’s happening because her carotid sinus has detected the buildup of carbon dioxide in her bloodstream, because she hasn’t been able to exhale. It is a distressing sensation to go through though, a desperate panic-filled need to start breathing again; I’ve experienced it myself during my ‘buried alive in a coffin’ stunt that I use in some of my magic shows.”

Out on the stage, Janet was indeed swallowed up in panic as she desperately tried to exhale so she could inhale. It was useless! The garrote was far too tight for that. Janet suddenly felt light-headed, and the world around her started to blur. She hardly heard the Master of the Games announce, “Three minutes!” She didn’t hear the click of a light coming on. She didn’t hear the Master of the Games say, “Release the other three sows, to become girls once more, if they are not already meat.” She didn’t see or hear sow 24 get her bonds removed and then get pushed limply to the stage floor with a loud thump. She didn’t hear sow 14 gasp in desperately needed air as her garrote, followed by her restraints, was released before she was pushed to the floor to sit beside her breasts. Janet didn’t think to wonder which light was lit, and whether she was going to die; she knew she was dying, even when she heard someone close to her suck in much needed air.

The next thing Janet realized was that she was sitting on the stage floor, staring at the meat that was Stacy. Janet looked to her other side and watched sow 14 take turns glancing from her breasts on the tray to the remaining girl in the garrote chair. Janet followed her gaze to the chairs to watch the Grade A blonde jerking desperately in her bonds as she went through the final moments of air hunger. Then the very purple sow 52 went limp. Three minutes later, as Janet and sow 14 continued gasping in air to replace the oxygen that had been depleted from their bloodstreams, Tony popped the back of sow 52’s neck spike with his heavy mallet to sever her spinal cord and make certain of her status as meat.

Janet smiled. Not because she was happy the blonde was dead. She smiled because she found it exhilarating to be alive!

Chapter 13. Heads or Tails

After returning to the audience, Janet received long hugs from each of her heroine friends, and a long hug and passionate kiss from Andy. “Way to go, girl!” Andy whispered as he embraced Janet after the kiss. “I’m sure that was a scary thing to go through, but it worked out for the best. Because you had to go through the garroting, I can honestly make a case for not offering you as a contestant in the next and final pre-lottery game of chance.”

“You know, handsome,” Janet whispered back, “I’m pretty sure you’re telling it to me the way it is. However, why did you shy away from offering me up as a potential candidate for ‘Spin the Bottle’? Theoretically, there was only a one in sixteen chance a sow would end up as meat.”

“Oh! That again,” Andy spat. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to stand with your friends and get ass-fucked in front of the audience. No…now I’m being mean. The truth is…I figured Tyler would pull his usual stunt and push his sow, if not selected to hang by the random generator, off the end of the drop plank before the Master of the Games declared her and the other unselected contestants girls again. If he had done that, the rest of us would have felt compelled to follow his lead, just as Dan and Evan followed his lead with the neck-suspension sex. We would have spent the next sixteen minutes or less blocking you girls’ attempts to get footholds on the end of the plank, and you would have all been meat. Your friends were lucky that Tyler was more interested in using his cock to cause a more personal pain to Zatanna’s crop-damaged pussy. Also, you should know that, if you had stood on the gallows, I still would have felt obligated to enter you into one of the next three pre-lottery games of chance.”

Janet quickly kissed Andy, and whispered, “Thank you, dear man, for making me understand. I can tell you truthfully that I am very happy not to have stood on the gallows…especially if it had ended in very public anal sex or death. I can also tell you that I shall think of you often, in a very kind way, when my friends and I leave here tonight, and that I will think of Tyler…and Kevin, not so often, but when I do, in a very different way.” Janet turned and leaned back against Andy and let him guide her to a sitting position in front of him on the floor, as she watched the stage props, bacon, and long pigs get cleared away in preparation for the next event.

“Look!” Sue shouted staring out at the stage floor. “The next event is going to be ‘Heads or Tails’! Those are guillotines being set up. Dan, my handsome escort, be a dear and DON’T make me available as a potential sow in this event.”

Dan Ackerman chuckled loudly and then replied softly, “Sorry, Sue, this is the last pre-lottery event, and every escort in the room is going to feel obligated to make their wards available to become sows in the game. Stay chipper though—there are only two guillotines and a club member’s wife will be strapped into one of them. That leaves a lot of guests, like you, competing for the final open position. The chances of your being chosen for this game are low, and if you are chosen, this game usually becomes a test of endurance rather than the fate of the sows being determined by the random generator.”

“No deliberate offense intended, Wanda,” Evan Hall chortled softly, “but I’ll be standing you shortly, offering you as a potential sow to risk your pretty head to the basket. Like Dan said, we escorts feel somewhat obligated to keep the games interesting.”

“No offense taken, Evan,” Wanda replied in a soft but grim tone, “and, if my number comes up, it won’t be the first time my neck has had a lunette around it. Besides, it is supposed to be a quick and painless death, and better my head in a basket rather than suspended by a rope over the stage floor like poor Tora’s.”

Beatriz looked doe-eyed at Ted Stevens, who shrugged and then shook his head. Watching this, Tyler Roberts roared in laughter, laid Zatanna back and kissed her, and then, as he sat her back up, quipped, “Don’t even ask, dear girl! I’ll being doing my best to get your pretty neck under that sharp blade hanging high from the cross bar, and then I’ll be hoping the test of endurance is holding the weight of the blade with your closed teeth while one man after another rapes one of your available orifices until you gasp in climax, losing the rope.”

Zatanna shivered briefly at the genuine fervor Tyler demonstrated as he spoke. She pulled herself together and chided back, “I have some sore privates to prove I can’t climax fast enough when I need to. I might hold out longer than the other girl. Can I take it from your word ‘hoping’ that the ‘rope in teeth while raped’ method isn’t always used?”

“The most common test of endurance is one of those vibrators with a climax detector in each girl’s vagina,” Ted Stevens chipped in. “The girl who loses her head first and climaxes, loses her head.”

“Yes, that is the way the game was played in your explanation of it to me at Final Fantasy, Ted’ Sue said softly. “If I have to play, I hope it is the vibrator. It’s less messy…at least at one end!”

“Either way and I’ll likely be toast if my number comes up,” Beatriz moaned. “Achieving orgasm is my goal in life…not denying climax. I love sex, and mean to go on loving sex for many years to come! Are there other variations of this game?”

“Dozens and dozens of variations,” Ted replied with a broad smile, “just as there are endless variations of girls. Maybe we will see a variation of the game tonight that is as exotic as you are, and maybe you’ll be in the game experiencing that exotic variation first hand.”

“One thing is certain,” Tyler observed, “very soon at least one of two girls is going to lose her head to a guillotine blade. Given the attrition in sows so far, the chance one of you girls will be selected as a sow in the game might be as good as one in four, and there are five of you left. Whatever the variation, I believe I will be watching ‘Heads or Tails’ with great interest!” Tyler chuckled loudly.

The Master of the Games, again at his lectern on the stage, announced, “Gentlemen of Club X, wives, and guests our fourth and final game of chance before the lottery is ‘Heads or Tails’. As you can see from the two guillotines in the center of the stage, there will be two contestants in this event, one of which must be a club member’s wife. This is the final chance for you gentlemen to do your duty and risk either your wife or ward to become a sow in one of these pre-lottery games of chance. In this game, however, chance, driven by the random generator, will only come into play in the selection of the sows. Once the sows are strapped into the guillotines, the game will become a test of endurance. Obviously, as the sows’ heads are at risk, the test of endurance will normally involve their ‘tails’; just how will not be announced until the sows’ necks are under the blades.”

“Which of you gentlemen as husbands will volunteer your wives to become a sow as they play this game of endurance?” The Master of the Games watched as eleven men stood, pulled women up in front of them, and raised their hands. He entered the numbers on the armbands of the eleven girls into the computer.

“Which of you gentlemen as escorts will volunteer your wards to become a sow as they play this game of endurance?” the Master of the Games asked, looking out into the crowd. He nodded knowingly to himself as nearly half the men in the room rose to their call of duty.

To her surprise, Janet felt Andy rise to his feet behind her and pull her up in front of him as he stood with his right hand raised high. “Sorry,” he whispered, “the peer pressure is too great. I can’t be the only escort sitting.” Janet nodded, but didn’t otherwise reply, and noted the rest of her friends were on their feet before their escorts as well.

Due to the number of un-papered girls being offered as potential sows for the event, it took seemingly forever for the Master of the Games to enter the sows’ numbers into the computer. This was obviously an uncomfortable time for the heroines, who now were looking forward to leaving Club X after the lottery for a more leisurely time at Final Fantasy.

Janet held her breath as the Master of the Games looked up to make his announcement. She was still woozy from the garroting, and doubted she would survive any test of endurance thrust upon her at the moment. She heard the Master of the Games loudly announce, “The club member’s wife to become a sow in this event wears number 3, and the ward to become a sow in this event wears number 44. These girls are now deemed sows 3 and 44, and are to report forthwith to the stagehands beside the guillotines.” Janet heard a gasp of fear far to her left, and then a chuckle to her right.

“You wear number 44, my dear Zatanna,” Tyler Roberts chidingly pointed out. “You better get down there and stick your neck under that sharp and heavy blade before you earn some sort of penalty.”

“I know what number I wear, Tyler Roberts!” Zatanna spat back. “Don’t get your hopes up. I’ll be back with my neck intact and holding this head of mine high!” Zatanna quickly hugged her heroine friends, and hurried off to center stage.

Zatanna was the first sow to reach the guillotines, and quickly took a position beside Tony at the death machine nearest the main entrance to the chamber. Facing the audience, she twisted her head and stared upward to examine the sharp, angled blade at the top of her guillotine’s crossbar. It was attached to a heavy mouton, and would obviously race down the main grooves in the vertical side rails once released. There wasn’t a bed or platform to lie on, and from the height of the lunette, it was obvious she was going to be placed into the machine, bent over, but on her feet. Zatanna couldn’t see the releasing mechanism for the blade. Her observations were interrupted as sow 3, the luscious redhead with green eyes and swooping C-cups tipped with pinkish brown nipples and areolas, who had stood on the far back gallows during ‘Spin the Bottle’, arrived at stage center to stand beside Estaban.

Seeing both sows standing near a stagehand, the Master of the Games commanded, “Position the sows under the blades and secure them. Then fetch the rest of the equipment from the props room.”

Tony quickly grabbed Zatanna’s left elbow and forced her to back up and then move sideways until she was behind her guillotine. He slid the upper lunette panel upwards in its secondary groove with his left hand while using his right hand on Zatanna’s neck to force the sow to bend forward and push her head through the widened neck opening. To his surprise, the sow cooperated completely. Tony then lowered the upper lunette panel so that it was tight against its lower panel, and secured it into position with two pins through the panel and into the vertical side rails, trapping Zatanna’s neck under the blade.

The sow in position, Tony used cuffs on the outside of the guillotine rails to secure Zatanna’s hands. Estaban, meanwhile, had finished securing the redhead in a similar position. Zatanna, being the taller of the two, had to spread or bend her legs more to get comfortable in the bent-over position.

The two stagehands walked away from the secured sows, retrieving metal stands with hooks at the top, which they set behind each sow, just slightly to the outside of her behind. They left and returned with smaller metal stands having forward angled rectangular panels at the top, which they placed behind each sow’s buttocks. They left and returned to place silver trays with the familiar debreasting shears outside of each guillotine, far enough forward on the stage so that the sows could stare with fear-filled eyes at the bladed tools. The stagehands left and returned again with rubber bags from which protruded long hoses with narrow nozzles tipping them, and hung the bags from the hooks on the taller stands. The nozzles at the end of the hoses were then abruptly forced into the sows’ anuses. “Master of the Games, the sows have been prepared,” Tony announced loudly.

The Master of the Games explained loudly, “Gentlemen of Club X, wives, guests, and sows, the test of endurance for this game of ‘Heads or Tails’ will be holding one’s water. Each of these sows will be slowly given an enema consisting of one and one-half liters of warm water. When the enema bags are empty, the nozzles will be simultaneously removed from the sows’ anuses, and pressure detectors will be placed behind their sphincters. If a sow expels liquid against the pressure detector, the guillotine blade will fall. If the second sow loses her liquid before she can be released from the lunette, she will lose her head as well. At three minutes, the sows will see a new stage prop. I will announce the four minute mark and the four minute thirty second mark. At five minutes the sows will be simultaneously debreasted, one breast at a time. I doubt either sow will hold their water through that painful ceremony. Stagehands, begin administering the enemas!”

Zatanna had taken the jab into her anus without making a sound, but she paled as she heard the Master of the Games explain how she was about to become publically degraded as they attempted to convert one or both sows into decapitated meat. Zatanna groaned inwardly as she thought about the anal rapes she had received this night. She despised enemas anyhow, and knew that her recently stretched sphincter was going to make things evenly more difficult for her. Her only consolation was the fact that, while on the gallows platform, she had watched the redhead get sodomized as well.

Zatanna moaned, and heard the redhead moan, as she felt the flow of warm liquid into her anus begin. The flow seemed to go on forever as she felt her lower intestines slowly get distended. Then she heard Tony say, “Clinch your anal muscles, both of you!” She felt the nozzle get popped out of her, and clinched her sphincter desperately as the pressure detector was positioned as close to her anus as possible without touching her skin. Then she heard Tony exclaim, “Start the timer!” Zatanna groaned inwardly again, thinking, ‘Who in the world thinks up this kind of hell? It would almost be kinder to give up—to trip the blade’s release mechanism and accept the basket now!’ Zatanna didn’t give up. Instead she concentrated on holding the water as the seconds ticked by, each second seeming to be minutes.

Out in the audience, Beatriz softly cried out, “NO! This is a horrible game! To be forced to accept an enema in front of a room full of people, and to then have to hold the water or die. What a terrible torture to go through. I’m going to lose Zatanna as well as Tora! I just know it!”

“Easy, Beatriz!” Wanda implored. “Brave heart! Zatanna hasn’t lost her head yet, and while I don’t wish death on anyone, keep in mind that the redhead is getting the same treatment…without our experience and training as…. Well you know….”

“Wanda’s right!” Janet spat. “We’re sex whores and pain sluts who crave degradation. This sort of depravedness is right up our alley. Zatanna is about to prove that!”

“I hope you are right, Janet!” Sue said softly. “I would have lost my water already. Resisting the need to release one’s bowels is a terrible urge to try to fight. It must be getting close to the three minute mark. I wonder what that new prop the Master of the Games mentioned is going to be? I hope it’s not a feather to the anus, or something like that!”

Out on the stage, Zatanna was in physical discomfort and mental agony. She really, really, needed to empty her bowels, but she wasn’t ready to let this dire need be the death of her yet. She had heard the retreating footsteps of the stagehands, and knew the three minute mark was approaching. She steeled herself for whatever new prop she was about to be exposed to. Then she heard the returning footsteps, and began holding her breath to help her concentration. She wanted to live!

“Three minutes!” the Master of the Games announced. “Tempt them!”

Tony and Estaban walked around Zatanna’s left side to stand in front of and between the two guillotines carrying what was obviously a portable toilet. They got groans from both sows for their efforts. They stood where they were for about fifteen seconds, while the sows stared at a source of relief they desperately needed, before walking around the right side of the redhead to set the much needed facilities on the stage floor centered behind the two guillotines facing the audience.

Zatanna closed her eyes and tried to put the much needed relief out of her mind. She wasn’t sure she could last another two minutes, and knew she would die as soon as cold steel touched the base of one of her breasts.

Out in the audience, Beatriz complained bitterly, “Now that isn’t fair! That is mental torture of the worst kind! Zatanna must be in agony!”

“No, that isn’t fair!” agreed Wanda. “It isn’t fair to either girl…I mean sow! Unless that club member’s wife has been practicing for this sort of event, I would still place my bet on Zatanna surviving.”

“I hadn’t thought about that!” Sue whined stridently. “Have they used this test of endurance before, Dan? Could the redhead have prepared herself for this?”

“Yes, Sue,” Dan answered with a chuckle, “this is one of the first tests of endurance I ever saw used in this event. Naturally, the club members’ wives pay attention to the tests they might get put to if the random generator is unkind to them, and the redhead might of practiced for this. She won’t have practiced for losing her breasts though, and it is getting close to the time for that to happen. If one of them doesn’t give in, they most likely will both die with the first bite of the debreasting shears.”

“Oh NO!” Beatriz cried. “I could see Zatanna giving in…surrendering her life…if she thought it was the only way to keep both of them from dying!”

Out on the stage, Zatanna was too busy fighting to keep her sphincter closed to think those thoughts. She could feel wetness on her behind. She knew she must be leaking, but not spraying, or she would already be dead.

“Four minutes!” the Master of the Games soon announced. “Stagehands, take your positions.”

Zatanna watched Tony walk around her side and pick up the silver tray with the shears. He moved to her side and set the tray under her dangling breasts. ‘Can I maintain my control…if I’m being debreasted?’ Zatanna wondered silently.

“Four minutes thirty seconds!” the Master of Games soon proclaimed. “Prepare to accept these sows’ bacon!”

Zatanna sensed Tony pick up the shears, and clenched her muscles harder. She wanted to live! Then she heard the redhead scream and a spraying sound. This was followed immediately by a swoosh, clang, and thump. Zatanna almost lost her concentration as she imagined the falling of the guillotine blade beside her, making its short swooshing sound before clanging to a stop as it bottomed out, leaving the redhead’s head to thump into the basket. She clenched hard and hoped!

Tony dropped his shears, stood, pulled the two pins out of the upper half of Zatanna’s lunette, lifted the neck restraint, pulled the girl backwards out of the path of her guillotine’s blade, and then undid her wrist cuffs. He laughed loudly, along with most of the audience, as he watched the girl knock over both stands as she raced to the portable toilet. Blushing beet red, Zatanna sat and emptied her distended bowels, with all of the accompanying rude sounds, while about a hundred sets of eyes watched. She didn’t stand up until she was sure she was done. It was only then that she looked at the headless body hanging from the other guillotine, blood still pulsing from the severed neck. Somehow, the falling head had hit the basket, knocking it out of the way, and ended up on the floor instead.

Zatanna stopped caring about the eyes on her as she stood before the portable commode. It felt great to be alive! She thought for a moment, ‘A clean bottom would be the ticket to make me feel truly past this horrible ordeal!’ Zatanna hurried back to the medical treatment booth where she knew she would find a wet washcloth and dry towel.

Chapter 14. The Club X Lottery

Zatanna returned to her friends in the audience, once she had cleaned herself up, to receive hugs from all four girls. Then she turned to Tyler and said in the most pleasant tone possible, “See, you did well, sir, with your first choice of dates on the steps outside this building earlier this evening. I had enough discipline to see me through that sordid test of endurance.”

“Indeed, you are a most remarkable woman, my dear Zatanna,” Tyler Roberts said in that authoritative tone of his while wearing the broadest of grins. He pulled Zatanna to him, bent his waist, and kissed her lips, before continuing, “I suspect that, like Wanda, Sue, and Janet, here, you and Beatriz and our dearly departed Tora are very special women. I’m not at all surprised to find you standing here before me after playing ‘Heads or Tails’.”

Tyler turned Zatanna to face away from him, and then slowly took a seat on the floor, pulling the raven-haired beauty down to sit in front of him. He cupped his ward’s rotund breasts and pinched her nipples hard, before soothingly saying, “This has been a most memorable evening, as was the evening when I first met Wanda and her friends. It is a pity that this will all end in not too many minutes, after the lottery, when my friend Bill Jennings whisks you girls away from us escorts. It will be a shame to lose these lovely ladies, won’t it boys?”

“I’m sure to be missing Janet,” Andy admitted with a silly grin. “It has been a fun night!”

“I’m sure you will miss your little squeeze there, Andy,” Kevin McStiff, who had remained with the group, chided. “You’ve not even a souvenir to remember her by. At least I’ll have a nice fillet for lunch tomorrow.”

“Don’t be crass, Kevin,” Ted spat as he felt Beatriz cringe in front of him. “These girls are guests of Club X, and should be treated accordingly. My exotic date has been much fun to be with.”

“Yes, all of these girls have been great guests of Club X, especially Wanda here,” Evan said chuckling as he played with Wanda’s D-cups. “I’ll have a souvenir I think, before I let her go. A kiss at least, or maybe another volunteered blow job, or more.”

“I know my role here, Evan,” Wanda said softly, “if you want sex from me, you’ll have it. You can take me again while they are selecting the lottery winners.”

“Wanda, you are a confident one, aren’t you?” Dan asked with a laugh as he tweaked Sue’s nipples. “You do realize there will be ten girls up on that stage waiting to find out if they are one of two lottery winners. Some of you are certain to be up on that stage. I certainly hope it isn’t Sue though. I’m horny again!”

“Me too!” Beatriz said with a giggle. She had been watching the stagehands dismantle the ‘Heads and Tails’ set, as usual the meat the last thing to be removed from the stage. Now the stagehands were making good progress constructing a large circular platform that covered much of the stage floor. “I’d suggest sex now, but there probably isn’t time before the lottery starts!”

Sue blushed beet red, and pleaded, “Don’t you be encouraging these boys, Beatriz. We’ll give them sex anytime they ask for it, until Mr. Jennings is ready to take us away from here. I must say, it has been mostly fun, Dan, some scary and tragic moments aside.”

“There’s that reminder again that, unless the random generator is particularly fond of numbers in the forties, these girls are going to leave us with naught but fond memories,” Tyler chortled. “So be it, if it comes to that. I’m sure I can’t talk you into staying for the post-lottery games of chance. Perhaps I’ll think of something to keep some of you girls here.”

“No offense, Tyler,” Janet said softly, “but Wanda is set on going back to Final Fantasy right after the lottery, and we girls will stick together.” Janet watched Tyler glare at Wanda for a moment before nodding thoughtfully.

Janet turned her attention back to the circular platform, which was raised about five feet above the stage floor. At regular intervals, two feet of the sharp, thick impaling spits protruded through what appeared to be trap doors in the floor of the platform, the spits and trap doors forming a circle. Above each station was a noosed rope. Before each station was a four foot metal pole with a ring at the top; attached to each ring was a pair of chains that had Spanish spiders at their free ends. Janet wasn’t sure she understood what she was looking at, but she was sure she didn’t want to be one of the ten girls standing on that platform in a few short minutes.

“Gentleman of Club X, wives, and guests,” the Grandmaster of Club X called out from the raised booth, “I hope you have enjoyed our four pre-lottery games of chance; events that helped provide meat for our Sunday outdoor barbecue. I thanked those six girls who became meat ahead of time for their donations; now I thank those of you that lost family members or friends for performing your duties as guardians and risking your wives or wards to become sows, and ultimately meat, in those games. I thank the Master of the Games for his excellent leadership and officiating of those games; I’m sure he will do equally well when we get to the four post-lottery games of chance. I also thank the stagehands, Tony and Estaban, for their excellent work.”

The Grandmaster continued in his official tone, “For over six hundred years the featured event of our Saturday night parties has been the Club X lottery. Ten girls, at least two of which must be club members’ wives, will soon be asked to stand on our impaling platform knowing that they have a twenty percent chance of becoming meat for our Sunday outdoor barbecue. I thank in advance these girls who become converted to meat as a result of the random generator, and ask them to show courage and decorum during their conversion. I remind you again that we will need at least nine other sows for live-roasting tomorrow afternoon, so I urge the gentlemen of Club X to consider generously donating their wives or guests to that cause at the end of this night of revelry.”

“Now it is time to activate the random generator to select the ten candidates for possible conversion,” the Grandmaster announced. “The Mistress of the Games will use the random generator up here in the booth, and bring me the numbers. Do so now, dear wife.”

Seconds later, the Mistress of the Games delivered a computer printout to the Grandmaster, who announced, “The random generator has drawn the minimum number of club members’ wives for possible conversion, two, and the numbers for those selected wives are 34 and 57. I believe those numbers belong to Jeanette Simon and Rose Taylor. Good luck Jeanette and Rose. You are now deemed sows 34 and 57; please take your places on the platform.” The Grandmaster watched as the de-nippled Jeanette and a tall, lithe, raven-haired Amerindian with perfect brownish-tipped C-cups, made their way to the platform stairs at the front of the stage.

“Now, the guests that have had their numbers drawn for possible conversion wear the numbers 8, 11, 23, 30, 42, 45, 47, and 51,” the Grandmaster announced. “I’m sorry I don’t know your names, but I wish you all good luck as well. You are all now deemed sows; please take your places on the platform.”

A chill ran through all five heroines as they heard the announcement. Sue, Wanda, and Beatriz had made it past the first round of the lottery, and would be standing over spits with nooses around their necks as their numbers were entered into the random generator for the second, fatal, round. Wanda assumed that one of the winners of the next round of the lottery would be hanged while the other was impaled on the spit. If she got unlucky, she hoped for the noose, unless one of her friends got unlucky as well, then she would prefer they got the rope. Dying of impalement was something she would never wish for her friends. The five heroines quickly took turns hugging each other before the unlucky members of their group headed for the impalement platform.

Wanda was near the back of the line, and got to watch Tony and Estaban do their work, starting with freshly docked Jeanette. First, after centering the sow over a spit in the main entrance front quarter of the circle, Tony tied her hands behind her back with twine. Meanwhile, Estaban put the noose, which now drooped on Jeanette’s shoulder, on the sow, making sure the knot was on the right side of her neck before pulling the noose tight and then taking up the slack in the rope. With Jeanette secured, each man took a foot and made sure it was positioned inside the outer edges of the trap door, before securing her ankles together with twine so that she couldn’t widen her stance. Then Estaban operated a remote control to cause the spit between the sow’s legs to rise as Tony adjusted her hips and manipulated her privates until the spit had parted her lower lips and entered her vagina. The spit seemed to stop rising of its own accord. Jeanette seemed disinterested in what was happening to her.

This procedure was repeated with Rose next, who was positioned over the next spit in a clockwise rotation; the one at stage front and center. Sow 8, a brown-eyed, short-haired blonde with swooping pink-tipped B-cups, was positioned and secured next, maintaining the clockwise rotation that was evidently the plan of the hour. Next came sow 11, who turned out to be redheaded Candace from the self-pleasuring contest. Sow 23, a slightly chubby, short-haired, black girl with drooping, brownish-tipped C-cups, was positioned next, followed by sow 30, a skinny brown-eyed brunette with perfect pinkish-brown tipped B-cups. Next came Sue, who was blushing badly as her firm and perfect D-cups were put on display at the back of the stage; the newly regenerated, pinkish-tipped breasts rode high on the blue-eyed blonde’s chest.

Wanda, her turn having arrived, watched with interest in her gold-flecked blue eyes as the stagehands positioned her over her spit, the rotation having reached the back quarter of the main entrance side of the stage. She noted with interest in the professional manner with which Estaban dealt with her long auburn hair as he fitted her with the noose, and with equal interest as Tony unprofessionally grabbed a quick feel of her brownish-pink tipped perfect D-cups; Tony obviously was wondering how such large breasts could be so firm and young looking, not knowing the breasts had been reconstructed to genetic perfection by a nanogene tissue regenerator only days earlier. Finally, Estaban used the remote to cause the spit below Wanda to rise, and there was a glimmer of fear in the sow’s eyes as Tony parted her lower lips with his left hand while adjusting her hips with his right hand. She moaned as the tip passed between her labial lips and entered her vagina, and her nipples became rock hard as she experienced sexual arousal; Wanda couldn’t help but equate being penetrated by the spit with intercourse. She closed her eyes as her vaginal cavity continued to be filled with sharply pointed steel, and then flinched as the sharp tip touched the back of her vagina and came to an abrupt stop. Obviously it was equipped with sensors of some kind, to avoid damaging any sows that would later be released to once again become girls.

Green-eyed, green-haired Beatriz was positioned next, her brownish-tipped D-cups on display just to the left and in front of Wanda. Finally, sow 51, a gorgeous, raven-haired, almond-eyed oriental girl who carried perfect pinkish-brown-tipped D-cups on a fit and lithe body, was secured over the final spitting station. Having finished with his preparations, Tony announced, “Grandmaster, the sows are ready for the second round of the lottery.”

“Very good!” the Grandmaster replied from his booth with a smile. “It has been a while since my days as Master of the Games, but I’ll try to do this intricate converting machine that you see before you justice with an explanation of how it works. The sows before you stand on trap doors above spits that are now in fixed positions. Adjacent to each sow is a post with a pair of Spanish spiders, hanging from chains in open position. In a moment the random generator will be used to pick two of these ten sows. After the random generator has been operated, the stagehands will hold the open Spanish spiders over each sow’s breasts one at a time; the spiders will not be closed into the bases of the breasts of those sows that were not chosen in the lottery. The spiders for the lottery winners carry a slight electric charge. When the stagehands feel this charge as they hold the open spider over a lottery winner, they will trigger the ‘spider legs’, impaling eight hooked spikes deep into the bases of the each of the winner’s breasts. This could happen to the first sow having the Spanish spiders held over her breasts, or the last.”

“Once a lottery winner has been so identified, the stagehands will take up the slack in the chains between the post and the sow’s chest,” the Grandmaster continued with his explanation. “Then they will flip a switch on the back of the post to open the trap door beneath the sow’s feet. Gravity, slowed at first by the sow’s trapped and torn breasts, will then pull the sow downward onto her spit until she is fully impaled. The sows won’t hang. The only purpose of the noosed ropes is to keep the sows vertical as gravity does its work. The winches from which the nooses extend will give out rope as needed. If a spit reaches one of the sow’s necks without extruding from her body, the stagehands will remove the sow’s noose and try to turn the spitting into proper one by tilting the sow’s head back until the spit exits her mouth between her teeth; if not, no harm, as they are to be long pigs and not live-roasters, anyhow. Obviously, it is highly unlikely that both winners will begin their conversion to meat at exactly the same time, so I trust we will all find this conversion most interesting. Mistress of the Games, activate the random generator!” The Grandmaster glanced backward, nodded, and then ordered, “Stagehands, show us the winning sows and convert them to meat!”

Janet sat in front of Andy with Zatanna beside her. She crossed her fingers on both hands and softly said, “Cross your fingers, Zatanna! Let us wish our friends luck!”

“They were already crossed, Janet,” Zatanna replied softly. “I hope and pray that five of us leave Club X…and soon.”

Janet glanced around the audience, and then asked, “Where are the rest of our escorts? Andy is the only one of our guardians still with us.”

“I don’t know, but I’m happy for them to be gone just now,” Zatanna said as she shrugged her shoulders. “At least I’m not being pushed into a position to give Tyler sex…or worse yet…get gangbanged. Counting Andy…and no offense meant, Andy…there are six of them and two of us…with three orifices each.”

“OH,” Janet spat, “now there is a sordid thought. I’m really not interested in sex while as many as two of my friends could soon be killed. Uhhhm! I know it’s your right and my duty…sex…Andy…but be patient and after all of my friends are off that platform….”

“I understand, Janet,” Andy said with a chuckle, “and I’ll leave you be until your friends have rejoined us. After that, your ass is mine!”

“Oh,” Janet whispered softly as her face reddened, “you mean you want anal sex. I really don’t want to do that, but I guess if all of my friends come back safe, it will be worth it to let them see me sodomized.” Janet heard Zatanna giggle knowingly at her words.

“Deal!” Andy proclaimed excitedly with a broad smile on his face. “Your friends all come back from the platform, and you willingly give me your back door. I’ll leave you alone until that happens. Now that you mention it though, I also wonder what Tyler and the guys are up to.”

Wanda’s knees quivered as Tony took a position at the back of the stage, and Estaban took a position at the front of the stage. Wanda wondered, ‘Does this mean they are going to start the meat hunt with Sue…and that papered girl, Rose?’ Wanda ignored Estaban, but watched Tony carefully. Sure enough, he was picking up the spiders on Sue’s pole. She joined Sue in holding breaths as he held the terrible Inquisition devices close to Sue’s quaking chest. Then he carefully placed the devices back against the pole, and stepped towards Wanda. Wanda grinned, thinking, ‘That means Sue’s safe!’ Sue grinned sheepishly to her friend, obviously feeling quite relieved.

Then Wanda frowned and her knees started knocking. Tony was picking up the spiders from her pole. She suddenly worried that she had won the lottery and would soon be thrice impaled—twice by the spiders now in Tony’s hands and once by the spit already deep in her vaginal cavity. Tony held the Spiders over her heaving bosom. The auburn haired beauty looked down to see eight curved, sharply pointed, metal spikes extending upward and downward, four each direction, from circular central plates held over each of her breasts. Tony grinned at Wanda, and then moved his thumbs to the back of the circular plates. Wanda paled and held her breath as she waited for the devices to snap shut. Then she saw Tony wink and turn to replace the spiders against her post. Wanda blushed in embarrassment—she had let the stagehand see her fear. ‘Still,’ she thought, ‘it seems I’m safe. Just one more girl to be vouchsafed and we can blow this horrid place!’

Wanda shot Sue a quick look of relief and then both girls returned their attention to Tony. He was just reaching for Beatriz’s spiders. He slowly held them up and moved them towards the Brazilian-born beauty’s quivering D-cups. He pulled the torture instruments back slightly and then pushed them forward again until the central plates touched the brownish nipples on Beatriz’s perfect breasts. Wanda thought, ‘Naughty Tony, teasing Beatriz as he did me.’ There was a click and Beatriz shrieked in pain as the sharply pointed hooks that formed the ‘spider legs’ snapped inward and closed to impale the bases of her breasts. Wanda, as she heard Sue gasp behind her, screamed, “No!” With tears streaming down her face, Wanda fought to shut off her outburst. It wouldn’t do Beatriz any good if she herself was converted to meat for showing a lack of ‘decorum’.

Beatriz had twisted her head to watch Sue and Wanda get the Spanish spiders held over their breasts. She had smiled twice as each friend seemed not to be a lottery winner, Tony having relinquished their spiders. She watched Tony pick up the spiders from her pole, and didn’t notice any change of his facial expression. Surely his face would show it if he felt the current that meant she was one of the chosen ones. Beatriz watched as if hypnotized as Tony positioned the eight fingered devices over her breasts, and was startled as she felt cold metal touch her nipples. Then she saw a flash of movement as the ‘slightly cupped hands’ sprang closed, felt searing pain in the depths of both of her breasts, and heard herself scream in agony. She looked downward to see that the top of her breasts had been holed four times each at their bases, and she knew that the underside of her breasts had got the same treatment. Beatriz could tell from the agonizing pain that the eight metal hooks filling these holes in each breast extended to the core of the mammary.

With tears running down her eyes, Beatriz watched as Tony casually adjusted the chains that connected the spiders impaling her breasts to the sturdy metal pole until the chains were tight. Then he reached around to the back of the pole, and suddenly the floor fell out from under her feet. Beatriz felt herself drop. There was a tug at her neck, but then the winch played out rope as she lowered ever so slightly. The result was an agonizing pain as her cervix began to get punctured by the sharp point of the spit in her vaginal cavity, accompanied by a tugging on her impaled breasts. While all of this was happening, Beatriz watched Tony walk away to test the next girl. ‘Oh my God,’ thought Beatriz, ‘here I am in agony, and he’s treating me as if I were already dead…already meat!’

Wanda almost cried out again in a combination of anguish and anger as she watched the floor fallout from beneath Beatriz, but she somehow held her tongue. She too felt a sense of incredulity as Tony simply walked away from the Brazilian slowly sliding downward over the spit in her crotch. She glanced from her friend, to Tony, and back again, trying to understand how anybody could be so coldblooded as to turn their back on a girl being slowly murdered. Then she heard another scream, and saw that sow 51, the oriental girl, was the second lottery winner, and now had her D-cups impaled by spiders. Seconds later, the oriental girl screamed again, as the floor fell out from under her feet.

In the background of her mind, as she watched gravity and Beatriz’s body fight against each other, Wanda heard the Grandmaster announce, “Stagehands, we have found our lottery winners. Release the other sows so that they may once again be girls, and get them off the impaling platform. They must watch the lottery winners become converted to meat from the audience.” Seconds later, Wanda felt Tony release her bonds as she watched Beatriz’s body lower onto the spit below her a fraction of an inch at a time. She immediately started towards Beatriz, intending to be at her side through her ordeal, but found herself being pushed past the green-haired girl, who was in obvious agony, by Sue, who, it seems, Tony had the good sense to release first.

“The Grandmaster said we had to get off this platform, Wanda,” Sue said softly but forcefully. “I’d like to show Beatriz my support too, but we can’t break these people’s rules or we might be killed ourselves.”

“That’s the way to be sensible, miss,” Tony called out from behind the pair. “Your big-breasted friend there already broke decorum once by yelling out. A second time would see her become meat. Besides, it’s going to be a bit graphic up here on the platform, and that might make things more uncomfortable for both you and your green-haired friend. There is nothing worse than seeing the horror in somebody else’s eyes while you’re trying to accept your conversion with dignity.”

Wanda wanted to argue; she wanted to scream at Tony, ‘Yeah, right! When was the last time you were converted?’ However, before she knew it, she and Sue were back in the audience with Janet, Zatanna, and Andy, the other escorts strangely absent.

Pain burned in Beatriz’s lower abdomen, and she knew the cause of it. She guessed from the way the holes in the bases of her breasts had been stretched, she must have dropped at least an inch. She knew her cervix had been pushed downward through the sharp spear between her legs. She had resorted to the only action she could think of to forestall doom. She was trying to use her thighs and feet to clamp onto the spit shaft below her and create friction to fight the force of gravity. The noose around her neck was helping too; to keep Beatriz’s body vertical, it had to take a portion of her weight, even though the winch it was attached to would give out rope as needed. Her breasts were fighting the pull of gravity as well and working to slow her body’s downward movement over the spit.

Beatriz brought her attention once again to the top of the bases of her breasts, just on the periphery of her vision. Her eyes told her what the agony coming from her chest had already screamed. The holes where the spider legs had pierced the bases of her breasts were gradually stretching outward. Her impaled breasts were fully trapped, and she couldn’t take her eyes off of them as they were gradually stretched away from her chest, as the base of her breast meat began to tear. Then it happened! The tissue at the base of her left breast gave way, and Beatriz’s shredded mammary, clutched in the spider’s embrace, dropped down and away from her body to clang against the pole to which the spider was chained. Beatriz shrilled, from the pain, but even more so from the horror of it all. She was still shrieking when her right breast tore free to join the left, dangling in a Spanish spider at the base of a metal pole.

Beatriz stopped screaming as she suddenly became aware that the rate of her downward movement onto the spit below her had increased. She abruptly realized that there was nothing that could stop gravity from impaling her onto the savage skewer. Now she knew she wasn’t forestalling death; she was merely prolonging her agony. She stopped pushing her thighs and feet against the vertical rod below her crotch, and accepted her fate. ‘Damn I hate random generators!’ Beatriz thought as she began her journey to join sweet Tora. Fire and Ice would be together again, to fight whatever evil was to be found in that place where worthy souls go.

Chapter 15. In the End, Men are Men

With Wanda hugging Zatanna while Janet and Sue stood close by, the heroines watched and gasped in horror as Beatriz’s breasts popped free of her chest. They hardly noticed as, seconds later, the oriental girl’s huge rack was torn apart as well. What they did notice was their friend go limp, and stop fighting her downward journey over the spit. Almost immediately Beatriz’s rate of decent over the sharp metal increased visibly. Soon, only Beatriz’s body from the waist up was above the platform floor. That was when the silent quartet saw Tony bend close to Beatriz, touch her throat, and make a throat-cutting motion to Estaban, who stood next to the oriental girl.

“I’m sorry, Zatanna, Beatriz is gone,” a teary eyed Wanda whispered, once more in control of her wits and aware that the others depended on her to negotiate their journey through this 41^st Century world. “Her spit must have hit an artery or vital organ. I wish I had never come up with the idea for these fieldtrips to the future.”

Zatanna, who had been quietly weeping as she had watched Beatriz slowly sink, seemingly into the floor of the platform, replied in a sorrowful tone, “This isn’t your fault, Wanda. We all had a pretty good idea of what we were getting into by coming here. As I told Beatriz when she tried to take responsibility for Tora’s death, this happening is all due to a random generator and bad luck. Still, the loss of first Tora and now Beatriz is a crushing experience, but we must not let it get the best of us. However, my bravado aside, I am dearly hurting. Hold me please!”

Wanda clutched the raven-haired Justice Leaguer to her chest. Zatanna was sobbing now. Wanda couldn’t think of anything appropriate to say, so she instead watched the platform in silence. The oriental girl appeared to have also expired, and both Tony and Estaban were removing the nooses from the necks from the former sows, and before that, beautiful girls. Wanda watched as Tony tilted Beatriz’s head back, and the spit exited from between her teeth. Miraculously, the oriental girl’s spitting also turned out well. Tony and Estaban disappeared into the belly of the platform, and minutes later could be seen carrying the Beatriz’s spitted corpse to the kitchen. The oriental girl’s meat made the same journey soon after that.

As Zatanna’s sobs diminished, Wanda suggested, “I think it’s time we made our exit. Sue, could you look after Zatanna, while Janet gives Andy a much deserved kiss and I find Bill Jennings?”

“I agree, let’s leave, preferably before the Grandmaster gives another of those thank everyone speeches,” Sue whispered as she put her arms around Zatanna. “I don’t think you need to worry about Ms. Magic, here. She is a professional and has lost teammates before. I believe she will bounce right back.”

Wanda nodded at Sue, and then smiled at the necking Janet and Andy, before turning to look for Mr. Jennings around the main entrance. She frowned as she found herself face to face with the rest of the escorts.

“Wanda, my dear, are we going somewhere?” Tyler Roberts asked with a broad grin on his face. “Weren’t you even going to say goodbye to Evan here?”

“We are leaving Club X now that the lottery is over, per the club rules, Mr. Jennings arrangement with you escorts, and our stated intentions from the moment we got here until now,” Wanda answered trying to be both diplomatic and forceful at the same time. “Evan, you’ve been a great escort, and I’ll be back to give you a proper goodbye as soon as I’ve located Bill Jennings.”

“I don’t think you’re leaving, not all of you anyhow,” Tyler chortled. “I told you earlier I would try to find a way to keep some of you here, and I’ve found that way. Start with Wanda, boys. Grab her!”

In spite of her training and experience, Wanda was taken by surprise when Evan suddenly grabbed her from behind and pinned her arms behind her back while Kevin grabbed her right knee and Ted grabbed her left knee. Seeing that Wanda was helpless, Dan and Tyler withdrew their right hands from behind their backs, quickly pushed docking tubes before her face, and slowly pushed open the blades so that the auburn-haired beauty could see the sharp edges protruding from both tubes.

“Tyler, what is the meaning of this?” Wanda spat angrily. “We did our duties as guests, and now it is time for us to leave. If you detain us, you will be breaking Club X rules…I think.”

Tyler and Dan slid the docking tubes over Wanda’s nipples, Tyler taking the right one, and then each man carefully adjusted and closed the blades until they touched the top and bottoms of the bases of the auburn-haired beauty’s now erect nipples. “We are going to let all four of you leave, so we won’t be breaking our word or club rules. We’re just going to keep some of each of you here as memorabilia of the night—your nipples and clits to be precise. We’ll dock your three friends after we are done with you. We are ready, Kevin. Say, go…just before you clip her clit?”

“Will do, Tyler,” Kevin replied looking upward with a grin, “as soon as Ted and I team up to get the vacuum extractor on her and her clit into the tube. Okay, Ted, as soon as I get the tube tip over her nub, set the scissors on the ground, and pull back the plunger. Once the plunger is fully out, I’ll grab the scissors and get ready to cut her.” Kevin watched as Ted nodded.

Behind Wanda and the group of men, Janet, Zatanna, and Sue stood watching and listening, not believing what was happening. They watched as Kevin and Ted carried out their plan. As Kevin reached for the scissors, Zatanna pointed toward the group and said, “Daed nem eseht…”

“NO! Zatanna, you’ll get us all killed!” Janet hissed as she clamped her right hand over Zatanna’s mouth, breaking the death spell. “Better we lose a few spare parts, if you catch my meaning, than risk getting converted to meat.” Janet watched Zatanna drop her hand, as she evidently remembered the Chula nanogene tissue regenerator that would be available to the girls when they returned home to the 21^st Century, so she pulled her hand off of the taller girl’s mouth.

Evidently the ‘escorts’ didn’t notice the disturbance behind them, for Kevin proceeded to methodically position the scissors to excise Wanda’s sexual center. The sharp blades in position, Kevin said, “Ted, pull the extractor back slowly, As soon as I think we have the longest trophy possible, I’ll give the word and cu….”

“What in the hell are you boys about to do to my property?” Bill Jennings demanded loudly, just as the Grandmaster reached the edge of his booth to give his post-lottery speech. “I told you boys that you would be these girls’ escorts until the lottery, and that I would then take my property, any girls that had not been donated to Club X through its games or lottery, away with me to my club when I left. Tyler, we’ve been friends for years! How could you even think of doing this injustice to me? You men could all end up being docked if I filed a complaint!”

Tyler Roberts opened his mouth to make a bold reply. He didn’t get his words out before he was interrupted from above.

“What is this disturbance I witness in the galleries below me?” the Grandmaster asked loudly, with obvious irritation in his voice, from the officials’ booth. “Tell me I do not see members of the club arguing with each other within these hallowed walls. Which of you men chooses to explain this breach of ethics?”

Andy raised his hand from his position beside Janet in the audience, and loudly replied, “I’ll give that a try, exalted Grandmaster, as I am not part of the public argument, the breach of ethics, but believe I know the facts…most of them anyhow. These four girls, who were six when they entered Club X as guests at the start of the evening, are Bill Jennings chattel. Because he was with his wife, Marge, Bill needed six escorts. He asked me and the five men about to dock the big breasted girl, there, to perform that function for him. Before we agreed to take that function he gave us specific information and instructions. Being a quarterback, I have a pretty good memory, so you can pretty much take the following words as a quote; he said: ‘You boys remember that these women are my property, and that they came with me to Club X and will leave with me, under my protection, immediately after the lottery pick. Until then, they are your wards according to club rules.’ The lottery pick had been made and they were leaving when this altercation broke out.”

“A mere technicality, Grandmaster!” Tyler Roberts called out. “I see nothing wrong with sending four un-papered girls home minus a few tips. Besides these women are from….”

Ted Stevens interrupted, loudly yelling, “NO! Tyler, you did promise Bill…earlier this week…and tonight. I’ll feel compelled to contradict you if you continue. Grandmaster, everything Andy told you was true.”

The Grandmaster huffed loudly in the officials’ booth before calling down to the club members, “Tyler Roberts, for six hundred years this club has demonstrated its fair doctrine through the very technicalities you seem to despise. If not for this fair doctrine, we would have few guests. Without guests, such as the girl you are about to maim, Club X could not survive. If one millimeter of that guest’s skin is damaged, you will be docked forthwith in the middle of the stage floor by the stagehands, as an example to any other club member who might think of foregoing the technicalities of our rules. If you want to dock some girl just for the sake of docking, go roam the streets. There are plenty of unescorted, un-papered girls, free rangers I believe some men call them, out there! Release that girl immediately!”

“Bill Jennings,” the Grandmaster said in a happier tone, “must you really leave, and take these succulent looking guests with you? We really could use them for tomorrow’s picnic!”

“Sorry, Grandmaster, my business requires my presence,” Bill Jennings replied, glancing from the official above him to Wanda, who was abruptly released. He walked to the girl and examined her, just as if she was chattel, checking her erect nipples for breaks in the skin and making sure her clitoris was still intact. He looked back up and continued, “Grandmaster, this girl is particularly valuable, tonight anyhow, as she will be demonstrating a new device for my club; one which she herself suggested. I have already donated two particularly valuable long pigs, as well as my wife’s bacon, to the club tonight for tomorrow’s picnic. I’m afraid that is the best I can do, for now. I may bring these girls back to the club some other Saturday night, should I chose not to harvest their meat myself.” Bill winked at Wanda.

Wanda had gasped with relief as she was released, not because she was afraid of the pain that was about to be imposed upon her, but because she believed it would make it difficult for the girls to continue with their planned visit to Final Fantasy. Then she blushed beet red as Mr. Jennings inspected her naughty bits for damage, which included spreading her labial lips with his fingers so he could get a clear view of her engorged clitoris. As Bill Jennings addressed the Grandmaster, Wanda almost suspected he thought she WAS his property—right up until the wink, at least.

“Very well, Bill,” the Grandmaster replied from the officials’ booth. “We’ll talk again at tomorrow’s picnic. You may take your leave, and your chattel with you.”

“Thank you, Grandmaster,” Bill Jennings replied. “I will arrive with the Jessica around 10 a.m.” Mr. Jennings nodded to Wanda, and softly suggested, “You might want to get your friends out to the coatroom, Wanda. Don’t leave the building until I join you.”

Wanda nodded, watched as Janet gave Andy yet another kiss, and then led her friends out of the main chamber of Club X. She would be happy to have this part of their girls’ night out come to an end.

Bill Jennings turned to face Tyler Roberts, but Tyler spoke first, saying softly and sounding sincere, “I’m sorry, Bill, I know I got carried away. Can you forgive me?”

“Yes, Tyler, I forgive you, and Kevin, Evan, and Dan, as well,” Bill said softly with a genuine smile. “Let’s forget this happened. You are all still welcome to my club…with one stipulation. Wanda and her friends are off limits to you—even if their breasts are protruding from debreasting portals. Break that stipulation, and you will find yourself docked. Ted, thanks for remembering to keep your word at the appropriate time; the stipulation doesn’t apply to you. Andy, thanks for being there, for me and the girls. Come to the club sometime and I’ll by drinks! See you tomorrow, everyone.” Bill Jennings walked away.

Soon, Bill Jennings and four heroines from the distant past were being chauffeured to Final Fantasy. Zatanna and Wanda were busily using heal spells on the heroines’ sore areas, which in some cases necessitated removing parts of bikinis that had only just been retrieved from the Club X coatroom. Janet took the opportunity to ask some questions that were bothering her. “Mr. Jennings, if my sums are right, they are going to roast twelve long pigs in the morning for lunch, and twelve live-roasters, beginning around noon, for dinner,” Janet said softly. “Isn’t that a lot of meat for the number of club members and their wives, I’m guessing 90 tonight, present at Club X?”

“I see what you’re asking, Janet, and do call me Bill,” Bill Jennings replied with a smile. “Actually, there will be much more meat than that available tomorrow, as well as bread and vegetables and all of the other trimmings. Many of us contribute additional resources for each and every picnic. The reason that the amount of food seems excessive is that you are assuming that only the club members that were at Club X tonight will attend the picnic. The Club X membership is much larger, but most rarely attend the Saturday night parties. However, they, their wives, their children, and, occasionally, guests almost always attend the Sunday picnics, along with various community leaders that have a standing invitation from the club.”

“Oh, I see,” Janet said nodding, “and I can guess why. The risk to the wives is quite high. It’s a wonder that any of the married couples ever attend. Ooops! Sorry, Bill, I should have thought before I spoke. I’m sorry about what happened to Marge.”

“That’s okay, Janet,” Bill said softly, his eyes tearing as he was reminded of his loss, “I know you didn’t mean any harm. Marge and I both knew that a debreasting, or worse, would happen to her sooner or later. Club rules require that every member attend the parties at least twice a year. This guarantees that there will be enough club members’ wives being put at risk at every party to make the guests understand that they are being treated fairly. Few of the married couples attend the Saturday night parties more often than the minimum. The requirement to attend at least two parties a year, combined with the compelled donation of every third-born daughter to the club picnics when they turn eighteen, beginning with the firstborn, are much stiffer dues than the annual membership fee.”

“I was wondering about that, when the Grandmaster said Tyler’s fourth-born had turned eighteen and was looking forward to fulfilling her duties as a volunteer sow for live-roasting,” Sue interjected while Zatanna was still busy trying to fully heal her privates. “Isn’t that a little young to be volunteering for something so certain and so final?”

“Perhaps, Sue,” Bill replied softly. “I certainly thought so when my firstborn’s time came, and will more than likely feel so again a few months from now when my fourth-born girl, named Susan, by the way, turns eighteen. However, the girls themselves don’t feel that way. They have attended the picnics all their lives watching other girls volunteer and knowing that they will have their turn. It’s the in-between daughters that we have more trouble with; they feel cheated out of the opportunity. As for the age being young, you should know that other clubs similar to ours harvest daughters as soon as they develop breasts; they call the sows ‘veal’.”

“One last question about Club X, Bill,” Janet jumped in, wanting to change the conversation about daughters to something less disconcerting. “How are you able to entice so many guests to attend the parties?”

“There are a number of reasons, Janet,” Bill said with a chuckle, “starting with the thrill of sexually oriented games, which I understand from Ted, was the big draw for you girls. Some of the girls attend the parties with a club member hoping to get a marriage proposal, and sometimes their hopes are fulfilled as there are always members in need of new wives. Others have had their number come up in the state-run lottery, or feel it is about to, and would rather play potentially deadly but thrilling and adventurous games until their luck runs out, rather than ending up getting processed by bored and businesslike butchers at the conversion facilities. They answer our advertisements and we arrange escorts for them. Whatever their reason for coming to Club X the first time, most girls come back again and again until they are finally culled; you’ll ask why, so I’ll ask you first to tell me how you felt when you survived your games of chance, Janet and Zatanna?”

“I felt exhilarated!” Janet replied. “I felt I had won my life by beating the game.”

“Yes, it felt great to still be alive,” Zatanna agreed. “I felt I had beaten the odds as well as the girl I was competing with. I was very proud of and happy with myself.”

“Those feelings will grow within your mind,” Bill said nodding knowingly. “One day you will ask me to arrange a return visit.”

Zatanna shook her head, and replied, “I don’t think so, Bill. Perhaps that would be true if we led ordinary lives, but our careers bring those same thrills and feelings all too frequently.” Zatanna decided it was time to change the subject, and asked, “How does your pleasure button feel, Sue?”

“It’s still a bit tender, even though I know it still works, for the most part,” Sue answered with a reddening face. “I stupidly spent too much time over the candle flame. Are you done healing it?”

“I’ve done all I can,” Zatanna replied softly. “I think it is still a bit damaged, so you might as well use that declitting option that Wanda told me about if you still end up taking a turn in one of those debreasting booths. You might as well have it regenerated rather than repaired.”

“OH!” Sue said with a start. “I really don’t like the idea of that, but I’ll think about it. Of course, a lot of things have already happened that I didn’t imagine before the night started. I never expected 41^st Century men to be so captivated by the idea of anal sex…I’m not talking specifically about you Bill, so don’t take offense. My anus feels quite stretched!”

Bill Jennings chuckled as he watched Wanda and Zatanna nod in agreement with Sue. “No offense taken, Sue,” Bill replied. “However, I won’t bother to try to explain the reasons for the fascination.”

“Well at least I made it out of there an anal virgin,” Janet said giggling. “Andy thought about it a couple of times, but I managed to distract him.”

Wanda, noticing Bill Jennings growing grin as he listened to Janet, thought, ‘There you’ve done it, Janet. That was blood in the water for someone who is likely an anal enthusiast.’ To change the subject, Wanda asked, “Bill, what did you mean when you told the Grandmaster I would be demonstrating some new device at your club. Did we talk about this when we were here earlier in the week? If so I can’t remember agreeing to any demonstration.”

“I was wondering when you would ask about that, Wanda,” Bill Jennings said with a chuckle. “Right after we get to Final Fantasy, and we are almost there, you girls are going to hang. You, Wanda, will start out suspended by your breasts, in the debreasting device you suggested during your last visit, but you’ll join Janet, Sue, and Zatanna in hanging by your neck some unknown time later.”

“You’re going to hang us?” Sue asked astonished. “Until death? If not…how long do we have to air dance?”

“Yes, I’m going to hang all four of you,” Bill Tyler said chuckling again. “However, it won’t be intentionally to the death. How long would you like to air dance, Sue?”

“Two minutes!” Janet interjected quickly. “We can give your customers a great show, air dancing for two minutes.”

“Very well,” Bill Jennings agreed with a smile, “Wanda will air dance for two minutes after her weight has been transferred from her breast nooses to her neck noose. The three of you, Janet, will air dance from the time Wanda’s breast suspension starts until her two minutes are up…I’m guessing four or five minutes.”

“Wait a minute, Bill” Wanda said softly, “don’t I get a say in this? Maybe I don’t want to be hanged by my breasts tonight.”

“No, Wanda, you don’t get a say,” Bill Jennings replied. “I’ve expended resources setting this demonstration up, Marge has gotten herself involved now, and you are un-papered girls in the 41^st Century speaking with a man. You’ll do this for me because I’m telling you to. Are you disappointed in me, Wanda?”

“No, Bill,” Wanda replied softly, “I’m not disappointed in you. It was to be expected, actually. Just let us have a drink or two first.”

“Very well, one drink, and then you hang?” Bill Jennings agreed. “Might I ask, why was it expected to the extent you are not disappointed in me?”

Wanda smiled broadly and answered calmly, “This might be the 41^st Century, Bill Jennings, but in the end, men are men. Your selfish desire to hang us for your clientele’s entertainment is no different from Tyler Roberts’ sordidly selfish desire to dock us so that he could have souvenirs. Men let their desires control their actions with little regard to the needs or desires of most of the women in their lives. We’re here! Shall we go in and get that drink.” Wanda opened her door before the chauffer could get to Mr. Jennings’ door, and led her heroine friends, followed by a much bemused Bill Jennings, into the nightclub known as Final Fantasy.

To be continued.

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