9 comments/ 5035 views/ 5 favorites Doom and Domination By: AlDaltrey Chapter 1: Population Explosion. The New Authority vowed that Earth 2.0 would not repeat the same mistakes made by planet earth. The comparatively small human population that survived the nuclear apocalypse would be more cautious, more conservative, and more traditional. It is now the year 2095. The population of the new earth is approaching 18 million people. A far cry from the 72 billion that it reached at its peak, just before the apocalypse. More than 99.9% of the population perished during that horrible period. The government is now referred to as the New Authority, and as part of its public education mandate, it outlines for all citizens how and why over-population occurred. This intelligence is intended to help society understand why decisions are made the way they are. Government officials provided the following chronological summary of milestones that led up to the apocalypse. In the year 2035, all sexually transmitted diseases were eradicated. It was heralded as wonderful news at the time, and it was. Historical diseases like AIDS, herpes, chlamydia were completely gone. Sexual freedom blossomed in the wake of this. By the year 2040, people were finally rid of sexual and racial prejudices. Whether you were gay, straight, or bisexual, it didn't matter. Fetishes were no longer frowned upon. Declaring that you were dominant, submissive, or any fetish was as harmless as declaring an interest in golf, art or music. The first openly transgender American President easily won two terms. One by one, the cancers were all cured. Breast, colon, pancreatic, prostate, and lung cancers were cured much earlier - while brain and skin cancers took a little longer, before they too were done away with, once and for all. Other common diseases, such as Alzheimer's, Diabetes, and kidney disease were also cured, along with major advances in heart disease. This changed the average life expectancy, which rose to over 100 years old. With this new health, women remained fertile longer. Menopause routinely started between ages 55 and 70. It was no surprise then that the population of the earth soared. Ten billion was reached before 2025, fifty billion by 2070. The New Authority also outlined a parallel phenomenon that contributed to the earth's near demise. It was the proliferation of advanced automation and robotics. Initially, automation revolutionized the automobile industry, and other manufacturing. By the year 2030, society was intimately familiar with big factories where robotics handled almost everything, completely replacing human workers. By 2050, these machines began to be used on the farms. Robotic arms were stored under the soil until the oranges, or grapes or any fruit or vegetable were ready to harvest. With visual sensors, these robotic arms plucked the ripe fruit flawlessly, placing it gently on conveyor belts. Farm workers became a thing of the past. As did taxi and truck drivers, which were replaced by sophisticated self-driving vehicles. The food service industry also experienced complete upheaval. Big Macs and Whoppers were made by delicate robotic machines, and payment handled by face recognition software, eliminating the need for cashiers. Earth celebrated this new efficiency. Over a fifty year period, the work week went from forty hours per week to twenty-five, then down to fifteen, and finally down to four. These changes combined, resulted in a completely new world. Ten times the population, with no sexual diseases, and in fact, total sexual freedom. Moreover, with a four hour work week, people had all the idle time they wanted. Every night was Friday night. Planet earth turned into a massive fuck fest. Then the population really exploded. Chapter 2: The Apocalypse. The New Authority often references the tipping point as the point where everything reversed and came crashing down. It is believed to have started in China where a major shortage of clean water occurred, followed by a severe food shortage. As the wealthiest country on the planet, China had no choice but to invade Australia. The United States and Great Britain came to Australia's defense, which triggered conflict. Russia, then facing its own food and water shortage, invaded all of the previous Soviet Union countries. A global war ensued. The first nuclear weapon was discharged in early 2090. Then it was a domino effect. Great fires swept the earth, triggering further nuclear explosions. It is estimated that on some days 100 million people were dying every minute. By the end of the devastation, a mere 18 million people remained. The only areas of Earth 2.0 that are inhabitable now are along the west coast of what were formerly Canada and the United States. The New Authority decided to keep the historical city names of what are now the five largest and most populous cities: Vancouver, Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and San Diego. Not a soul lives more than 50 miles from the Pacific Ocean. For the most part, people seem happy. Whereas for decades people talked about whether there was life on other planets, they now talk about whether there is human life on other parts of Earth 2.0. The rumors never cease. The most common myth is that there are one hundred thousand people living below ground in Manhattan. The radiation levels underground are low enough for survival. Severe radiation will cause instant death, however mild radiation will simply cause cancer. With cancer now curable, mild radiation is quite tolerable. In the pre-apocalyptic world, cancer-curing booths were all over a city as densely populated as Manhattan. Those same booths would now come in handy - assuming the rumors are even true, of course. As far as media, the New Authority decided to regulate the internet for all the right reasons. Total freedom put too much control in the hands of the people. Without strict protocol, rebellious or ambitious citizens might communicate to form protests, or potentially spread anti-Authority messages. Therefore, all social media activity is very carefully monitored. Television is very popular in this new world, with the Authority controlling every program produced and broadcast. Luckily many of the pre-Apocalyptic movies were stored digitally in Los Angeles, and those materials were not affected by the radiation. The five cities each share the same broadcast feeds. The most popular program is called Live-Eye, which showcases real-time broadcasts of newsworthy events, sporting competitions, or important court proceedings. On occasion, a human interest story will capture the attention of the viewing public and become a ratings blockbuster. Robotics is frowned upon in this new world. People need to stay busy. The New Authority mandated a forty hour work week back into law. Farms are once again harvested by people, not machines. Radiation from the apocalypse is kept at acceptable levels by a complex air and soil filtration system that rotates the various farms. Whereas it would have taken more than a decade for this to happen naturally, the system continually cleanses the air, water, and topsoil. Sexual openness is now frowned upon. While not illegal, promiscuous people are viewed with scorn. After all, excessive sexual activity was one of the factors that lead to over-population. Women especially seem to be scrutinized more closely and judged more harshly. The old double standards returned. A whore is a shameless creature indeed. Public floggings and public punishments also returned. On occasion, these were broadcast on Live-Eye for everyone to see. Chapter 3: Life. One bright summer morning Live-Eye was doing a segment called 'A Day in the Life' where they profile typical careers. Of course, the entire series was approved by the broadcast division of the New Authority. This particular episode was showing residents of Seattle going out to some nearby farms to help plant new apple tree seedlings. The filming itself was going to take place on the train, where a reporter named Timmy-John Carson and the cameraman were setting up, and would interview random workers as they boarded the train. The third person to board the train was an exceptionally pretty blonde, with long curly hair, a pretty smile and modest clothes. Like many of the passengers, she wore shorts and a T-shirt, but only because of the weather. It was a hot and sunny day, and planting in the fields was going to be hard work, especially on a day such as this. "Excuse me, TJ Carson from Live Eye here, what's your name and how are you today?" "I'm Lekia," the pretty girl responded, "and I'm fine thanks." "Give us a sense of what a typical day is like for you, and what you might like or dislike as it relates to working in the farming fields," the reporter continued. The girl started to answer, and it was in point of fact, a good and articulate answer. However, the slight nervousness and excitement of the moment had another effect on her. As she started to speak with the bright light of the camera illuminating her, her nipples began to harden. The thin T-shirt didn't help, and soon her nipples were practically poking through the material. TJ kept the interview going. His instincts as a reporter were good. He knew she would create quite a stir when the segment aired. First, her answers were interesting and well considered. Secondly, she was stunningly beautiful. And third, her nipples alone were a beacon for attention. TJ's comment ended with a rather inadvertent comment: "Thanks Lekia. You made a couple of good points there." The segment aired live during the day, and then again as a re-run in the evenings. Soon, social media channels lit up with discussion. The segment was creating quite the stir. Lekia's nipples and TJ's quip caused a viral video sensation. By midnight a million people had seen it. By the end of the weekend, more than ten million people had viewed it - over half of the population of Earth 2.0. The New Authority wasn't pleased. In a society that was attempting to repress sexual freedom and sexual promiscuity, this kind of grassroots civil naughtiness wasn't welcome. At the same time, the girl had done nothing to warrant arrest. She was not nude, nor had she broken any laws. If anything, she was well-spoken and very respectful with her answers. She was simply on her way to work, minding her own business. It was unfair to blame her or hold her accountable. Chapter 4: A Media Storm. Immediate secret meetings were held at the government offices in each of the five cities, and then conference calls among them to discuss what, if anything should be done. Lekia Biggs was completely unprepared for the onslaught of attention. Her smart phone was flooded with calls, as was her email. She was temporarily suspended from work with a paid leave of absence, at least until the scrutiny died down. Her beauty had always garnered attention from men, but Lekia was suddenly thrust into the media spotlight, becoming an immediate sensation. No girl could have been prepared for this. The New Authority's initial reaction was to let the story run its course, assuming it would fade away. On Earth 2.0, just as was the case with earth, the '15 minutes of fame' theory was alive and well. However, things did not exactly go according to plan. Rather than fade away, the story gained more traction as it sparked debate: was this girl a promiscuous tease with her protruding nipples that seemed to scream for attention, or was she completely innocent and being unfairly judged? The debate became polarizing, with the end of the story suddenly seeming nowhere in sight. The New Authority, acting on advice from executives at the television network, decided to try a new tactic. They decided to put Lekia on television for a prime-time interview. Surely, everyone would see that she is normal and boring. In fact, they would ensure it. They would dress her in conservative clothing, put very little make up on her, hair in a ponytail, and a thick padded bra to ensure those hyperactive nipples stayed well in check. It was the 'dispel the myth' theory. She'd come across as a big yawn, and things would return to normal in the five cities. Lekia was picked up by a police escort at her hotel in Seattle. She had been moved there when the media hype became too much. From there she boarded a heliplane, and with the agility of a helicopter and the speed of an airplane, the heliplane taxied her to the studio in Los Angeles in less than two hours. In the green room, the professionals took over. They needed to make her look as 'plain Jane' as possible, dressing her in an off-white blouse, with beige pants. The bra she was made to wear was thick indeed. They rehearsed her to come across as humble and respectful. They told her to answer all questions honestly, but not respond with anything too provocative. Mock interview questions were asked, to help set her at ease. It was also decided in advance that they would not ask her anything about her past relationships, or anything overtly sexual. The interviewer was none other than TJ Simpson, one of the most senior and respected journalists on the network. On the verge of retirement, he was the perfect choice: no one had more experience. "Welcome Lekia. As you know, you've been quite the media sensation. Why don't we start by having you tell us more about who you are? Tell us, who is the real Lekia Biggs?" Lekia had practiced this question in the mock interview. She talked briefly about growing up just outside Seattle, attending local schools, and happy to be a law-abiding and productive member of society. It was boring as hell. Which is exactly what the New Authority hoped it would be. The first part of the interview was going according to plan. TJ however had an agenda. After years of being considered a predictable host, he decided to go out with a bang. He wanted to ask the big money question: "So tell me Lekia, your body seemed to respond during that now infamous media clip. Why did you react in that way?" The poor girl was appalled by the question. She blushed deeply. This question had not been asked in the mock interviews. She was very much aware that she was being viewed live on network TV when she delivered her answer: "Oh, I don't know. It's just something that happens. I can't control it, really. It happens at times." "At what times, Lekia?" She paused. The bright lights of the studio cameras shone brightly onto her face. She was nervous and apprehensive, but she had to say something. In retrospect, she should have answered 'no comment,' but the poor girl did not have enough media training to know such a thing. "I guess when I'm excited. When I feel a thrill, it happens to me. I've always been like that." To make matters worse, regardless of the thickness of the bra that had been provided to her, there they were again. Those misbehaving nipples had stiffened to the point where they were visible. It was as if someone had placed two darts under her bra. Chapter 5. Caught on Film. Any hope that the media frenzy would end anytime soon was gone. The social media channels exploded again, with this new revelation causing an even bigger stir. The executive council at the New Authority was livid. Their ploy had backfired. They immediately gave instructions to the police to arrest both TJ and Lekia for civil disobedience. The pair was taken into custody. For now, each of them were taken to separate locations. Lekia was taken to a special holding unit, not at the official area jail, but instead at the police station itself. They asked her a few questions in an attempt to uncover whether the interview was sabotaged intentionally, or a genuine mistake. She swore none of it was premeditated. Nevertheless, she was remanded in custody until an appropriate interrogation could take place with officials of the New Authority. That night, well after midnight, a worried and anxious Lekia tried to fall asleep in the strange room. The windows were secured shut. It was hot and humid. The pillow was stiff and smelled musty. Do they change the sheets each night? She longed for her bed. How could this be happening? Had Earth 2.0 gone insane? How did she go from the comfort of her home near Seattle to this? Less than a week ago, none of this nightmare had even started. She wished she could turn back the clock, but it was too late for that. In the morning, she would explain to the New Authority that her answers were simply naïve stupidity, and with a profound apology, they'd surely forgive her. Then, eventually the media attention would die down, and things could return to normal. She tossed and turned on the hard mattress. They had given her access to her suitcase only to retrieve a nightie and supplied her with a knee-length cotton robe. To her chagrin, the only sleepwear she packed was a sexy baby doll number, hot pink and low cut. Once she had changed into it, they took away the remainder of her clothing and all of her personal belongings. The only blanket they had provided was thick itchy wool, and it was much too hot for that. She curled it up instead and hugged it, trying in vain to fall asleep. It was pitch black in the room. Scary black. She turned the small lamp on. It felt weird to sleep in a lit room, but at least it wasn't as creepy. More than an hour later, sleep still eluded the poor girl. She tossed and turned. Unbeknown to innocent Lekia, she was being watched via security cameras by two on-guard duty officers. They were in another room, doing what they did any time a pretty female prisoner was in there: making an illegal digital recording of it. More than one security camera was installed for optimum viewing. Lekia was completely inexperienced with jails or police stations and assumed she had complete privacy. What could Lekia do, but what she did on other sleepless nights? Her hands started to wander. She needed what she used to jokingly refer to as a 'sleeping pill.' There were countless nights when Lekia had given herself a quick little orgasm in the privacy of her own bed. The aftermath would relax her. 'No one is watching me' she thought. She untied the bow on the front of her baby doll nightie, and her breasts were now fully exposed. Her left hand began to pull and tug on her nipples, as her right hand travelled down her torso until she found the soft folds of her pussy. She ran her fingertip along the slit. There was a tiny bit of moisture there, as always. She dipped her middle finger inside, gathered some of the wetness and then brought her finger up to the nub, drawing small circles all around it. Her mind wandered as it always did when her fingers were busy. Soon with one hand she was pulling and twisting her own nipples, only stopping to squeeze her own breasts. It was as if she was punishing them for being such troublemakers. With her other hand, her practiced fingers were now rubbing an increasingly wet cunt. She lifted her knees, spreading her legs, and giving the hidden ceiling camera an unobstructed view of her honey pot. Two fingers were now rubbing directly on the clit, and soon, she was trembling and shaking as an orgasm rocked through her body. She caught her breath momentarily, smelling and then licking her fingers clean. Lekia was no stranger to the sweet scent and taste of herself after such a moment. One orgasm wasn't enough for her, so she wondered if another might do the trick. Turning over onto her front, she pulled her knees up under herself, and spread her legs. Lifting her tits up off of the scratchy blanket, she swayed them back and forth. Her nipples were teased over and over again by the rough, prickly wool. She maneuvered her ass up into the air as her fingers travelled down to penetrate her needy pussy a second time; all the while stimulating her nipples with the blanket. Inserting two fingers into her hole, she circled her vagina while the palm of her hand pressed on her clit. She squeezed her whole cunt and moved her fingers to circle her clit, around and around. Faster and faster. It was dripping pussy juice as she brought herself off a second time. Familiar thoughts running through her mind: Mmmm, yes...feels so good, yes! Doom and Domination Catching her breath, Lekia rolled onto her back again. She sat up in bed, spread her legs wide and used her fingers to gather up the excess moisture that had pooled there. She licked her fingers clean again. However, looking down at her nipples, she could see that they were also in need of moisture: the coarse wool having done its duty. Cupping each breast from underneath, she would lift it up, and then lather the nipple with the wetness from her hole. Pussy juice as moisturizer. The second orgasm had relaxed her just enough to help find much needed sleep. During the five hours of her slumber, the seven minute video was starting to make its rounds. One of the guards emailed it to a supposed trusted friend who shared it with his girlfriend. When that guy fell asleep, his girlfriend slipped it to her brother, who shared it with one of his friends, who uploaded to a file-sharing network. By the middle of the night, more than ten thousand people had witnessed the clip. However, come morning, as people woke up to check their newsfeeds, it circulated like a wildfire. An emergency meeting was called for the executive council of the New Authority. This situation was escalating out of control. One thing was certain in their minds: Lekia had done this intentionally. They interpreted her masturbation scene as public defiance. She must be held accountable. For her part, Lekia had no idea that her late night self-pleasure performance had been captured in pixels until early in the morning when the police came in to arrest the night guards. "What did they do?" she asked the female police officer who brought in her suitcase and watched while Lekia changed back into her day clothes. "They filmed you last night," she answered, "and no more questions. Now turn around so I can handcuff you. We are taking you down to the government offices immediately." Lekia could only pray that the guards had not recorded her masturbating. She hoped beyond hope that with any luck, all that the guards had viewed, or worse shared, was her sleeping. She was mortified at the thought that more than that was captured. During the entire car trip via the police cruiser, Lekia sat in the back seat, and shook her head with regret. Please, she thought to herself, I hope they did not record me touching myself. The officers seemed to delight in her misery, while they told her of the trouble she was in. Upon arrival at the New Authority offices, every single member of the Executive Council was already assembled in the Great Hall, where all primary government policy issues were debated, and new legislation passed. Lekia's frolics and a blossoming public relations crisis pushed all other government business to the back-burner. This was now their number one priority. The dozen or so government councilors sat in their designated chairs in a large semi-circle, looking condescendingly at the innocent girl, who was made to stand in the centre of the room. Lekia looked up nervously. Stern expressions surrounded her. "Do you understand why we suppress flagrant sexual behavior?" "Yes Madam President," Lekia answered, "Over-population was one of the primary factors that led to the apocalypse, and the near demise of planet earth. To sustain ourselves as a viable colony, we must act in a dignified and reasonable way. Promiscuous behavior does all of Earth 2.0 a disservice." "That is correct. That kind of overt sexual display causes nothing but problems. It normalizes deviancy, and leads to rampant and unwanted pregnancies. Do you realize that your sexual antics last night are causing quite the stir? Why couldn't you save that for the privacy of your own bedroom, rather than putting on a show for those disgraceful guards?" "Honestly," Lekia pleaded, "I had no idea of the security camera. I know it sounds naïve of me, but the camera is embedded in the ceiling light fixture, and I never noticed it. I had no clue until they told me about it in the police cruiser." Lekia's heart sank. Her worst fears were realized. Clearly, those damned guards had captured her masturbation sequence, and from the sounds of it, the video must be spreading on social media like a wildfire. She blushed deeply. Oh fuck! With her recent popularity, the clip was probably on every screen or mobile device across the entire five cities. She groaned aloud, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Stand up straight you petulant little bitch!" cursed The President, Margaret Smythe. Lekia stood up straight, blinking away tears. No one believed her. The discussion that ensued terrified her. They debated everything including scenarios as authoritarian as locking her away in prison for enough years, that when finally released, she'd be long forgotten by the people. She didn't dare speak, but every time she looked up, all she saw was stern looking faces staring back at her. One of the younger government councilors, Steve Derwon, a cocky but attractive man in his early 30s, asked if he could approach the prisoner and interrogate her thoroughly. No one objected, and Lekia could only tremble and shiver as he approached her. "I have a theory I'd like to test," Steve announced to the entire room. "Let's see if, in fact, it's her body not her mind, that's the real culprit here." Steve walked up to Lekia until he was very close to her, a sly smile on his face. His good looks had made it easy for Steve to charm his way into the bedrooms of many women over the years. He had a calm confidence. He leaned forward until his lips grazed her ear. Lekia wanted to pull away, but was worried that she might appear defiant. She dared not move. Steve whispered in her ear so softly that absolutely no one could hear a single word. No one other than Lekia, that is. "I know what you are. You're a submissive little slut, aren't you? I bet you've been fantasizing about big, thick, fat cocks fucking your mouth, with your wrists tied behind your back, for years." Lekia's knees went weak. She felt an immediate and unmistakable throb in her pussy. Her clit tingled, and her mind raced: Fuck! This guy has my number. She didn't say a word in response, but involuntarily she started to bite her lip in the sexy way that girls do. As if on cue, the entire Executive Council let out a collective gasp. While they had no idea what Steve had whispered in Lekia's ear, they could plainly see the effect of his words. Lekia's nipples had become rock hard, poking out of her clothing visibly, practically begging for attention. She was aroused. She was very aroused. "Shall I continue?" he asked, looking up at his colleagues. They all nodded, including President Smythe. In part they were in awe. In part they knew they had to better understand Lekia's inner drives if they had any hope of effectively dealing with her. Steve leaned in again. This time his hand found its way down between Lekia's legs. Of course, she was still wearing her skinny cotton pants, but his fingers pressed against the material, and with his middle finger he found the cleft that he searched for. "Dirty, dirty slut is what you are," he whispered in her ear again, just as softly as the first time. "Ah, here we go, there's your slit. Your pussy feels warm, bitch. Even through your pants, I can feel the heat. I bet you love getting fucked. Sure you do. Whores like you love taking endless cock. Isn't that right?" Lekia was trembling in response. Her breathing now short and shallow. Steve's persistent middle finger had found the crease in her pants, and now his finger was rubbing up and down on the material, right where her clit should be. Her reaction was all the indication he needed. He had found the magic spot, and now his finger tip pressed harder, all the while rubbing it relentlessly. "Good little slut, cum for me now. You know you want to. Go ahead and let yourself cum." Lekia alone heard his words. Somehow, with her eyes now tightly closed, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. Her needs were taking over, and everything else was lost on her, including her surroundings. "Arrrrgggh...yes...YES." While Steve had whispered quietly, Lekia spoke loud enough for everyone in the entire room to hear, "Fuck yes...I'm cumming. I'm cumming!" When Steve pulled away, Lekia caught her breath and then snapped back into the consciousness of where she was, blushing more deeply than she'd ever done before. The entire room stared at her silently, some in disbelief. Lekia looked down at her own crotch. Right there, clearly visible, was a dark wet spot. Her pussy had soaked straight through her pants. She had never felt such shame. President Smythe's voice broke the silence, "Get this disgusting creature out of here." A disgraced Lekia was escorted out of the Great Hall. An intense debate ensued. This young woman was clearly unpredictable, and not to be trusted. How could the government quell this precarious story before it spiraled further out of control? They worried a prolonged prison sentence could backfire, and make a martyr of Lekia. It might elevate the curiosity surrounding her, rather than suppress it. After much debate, it was decided that Lekia would make a televised public statement. However, this time, every word of her speech would be scripted in advance. No follow-up questions would be allowed. The speech would show her for what she was: a depraved and promiscuous little tramp. Surely, the people would lose respect for her after that, and ultimately her charm would die away. The government public relations team kicked into high gear. They set up a prime time television special, to be aired that evening. Lekia was transported to a confidential and highly secure holding area. Steve Derwon asked President Smythe for a confidential meeting. It was the first time he was ever granted a one-on-one meeting with her. However, after his demonstration in the Great Hall, it was clear he had more knowledge than anyone about how to handle Lekia. "I know her type," he told the President. "She's sex-crazed and almost always in a state of high arousal, especially if left unsatisfied." "What are you suggesting we do?" the Madam President asked him. "About two hours prior to her television appearance, give me and two of my friends some alone-time with her. We'll make sure she's satisfied - at least temporarily. It will keep her calm and reduce risk." "You really think it will help?" "I don't know for sure, Madam President," Steve replied, "but it's worth a try. Perhaps if she's well used, she'll behave. A satisfied whore is more likely to behave." Chapter 6. Visitors. Lekia spent the afternoon in a state of distress. One minute she blamed herself: fuck fuck fuck, I'm so stupid. The next minute, she blamed them: what did those bastards expect would happen, setting me up like that? She'd been placed in a designated office, with two police officers guarding the door. The office served as a makeshift cell, with a large wooden desk, and a sofa and coffee table sitting area. There was also a small private restroom. Visitors came and went. First, she was interrogated by government prosecutors who wanted to know everything about her past, especially every relationship she'd ever been involved in. It was an added humiliation to disclose so much personal information: when she'd lost her virginity, and to whom; how many lovers she's had, male and female; how often she masturbates. All of the interviews digitally recorded. While she was eating a light meal, the prosecutors left, only to be replaced by a couple of public relations executives. Lekia was fully briefed on the evening's game plan. She was told about the speech that she'd have to deliver. "You will read the speech, word for word, and pretend it was written by you, is that clear?" Lekia tried to object, "That's not fair. I don't know what you'll make me say. I feel like I'm digging myself deeper and deeper into a hole, but it's not my fault." "The other option is you'll be charged with treason, and spend decades in prison," the smug faced PR hack warned. Lekia wanted to crawl under a rock. She had no choice but agree to cooperate. She asked if she could at least see the speech in advance. The request was declined. She sat on the sofa with her face on her palm as the PR people left, and new people walked in, taking their place. When she looked up, there were three smiling men. One of them was Steve Derwon, the councilor who had brought her to that disgraceful orgasm in the Great Hall. Upon seeing him she felt shame. To her chagrin, she also felt that familiar tingle. Steve was accompanied by two other men. Both were extremely fit, and quite handsome. One was 6' 2", with curly blonde hair, who looked like he would have been a surfer had the sport not been banned due to the toxicity of the water. The other was slightly shorter and looked more rugged, heavily tattooed, and while handsome, clearly a boxer or cage fighter. His handsome face had taken its share of blows over the years with each of the little cuts having taken a toll. "Stand up and face me, slut," Steve commanded. Lekia did as told. She stood facing the three intimidating figures. She could notice in her peripheral vision that all three of them already had bulges. One of them walked behind her, and taking a firm grip of her wrists pinned them there. She let out a soft groan. Her nipples hardened. Her clit started to throb. She could pretend all she wanted, but Lekia was excited by her predicament. "Your choice," Steve taunted her, "we walk out now, or we stay here, and all three of us fuck you like you've never been fucked before." "I shouldn't be doing this," Lekia answered, feeling herself blush. Steve reached out and took hold of her nipples through her blouse. He began to pull on her nipples, twisting them, pinching them firmly between his fingers. He drew them away from her body, and then released them. "Your choice," he asked her again. Lekia couldn't help but think: I have nothing to lose. I want this, so why not do it? She was apprehensive, yet filled with desire and arousal. It was mixed emotions: a part of her dreaded everything that was happening, yet her body had never felt so alive. She desperately wanted to be on her knees, sucking the cocks of all three men. She imagined all three holes completely filled: one in her ass, one in her welcoming pussy, and one in her eager mouth. She wanted to tell them to leave, but the words didn't come out. Instead the words that escaped her lips surprised even her: "Stay here and fuck me like there's no tomorrow," she practically begged. The next hour was surreal. The beautiful Lekia, now fully naked, did end up on her knees with all three men before her. She'd suck on one hard cock, while jerking the other two, then rotating which of the men was in her mouth. Steve's cock was long and thin, while surfer-boy was thick and fat. Cage fighter was the biggest, with heavy balls, and a massive head she could barely get her lips around. She swallowed greedily when each of them dumped a load into her mouth, filling her tummy with the warm thick cum. After a moment, Steve broke the silence, "You see bitch, there's a method to our madness. Now we can last a good long time when our hard cocks are inside you. Now get over to the coffee table, and bend over it." By this point, the smell of her dripping pussy filled the room. When the first cock entered her, she came all over it. During the next hour all three of them fucked her in various positions, with each of the men enjoying a second orgasm. Steve wanted his hard and rough. He fucked Lekia from behind, pulling on her hair without any concern for the discomfort that it might cause. Each time he drove deeper into her pussy, she moaned her approval. Her head was pulled back by her hair, and it truly was painful, but that sensation was overshadowed by pleasure. By the time Steve was finished with her; both of them were covered in sweat. The surfer chose her ass for his second turn. He flipped Lekia onto her back, and lifted her legs up over his shoulders, while he kneeled upright. Luckily her slick pussy juices coated both her holes, providing him enough lubrication to slide into her ass without too much resistance. All the while he fucked her, he pulled and twisted her nipples, stopping on occasion to slap her tits. At one point, she couldn't help but defend herself and covered her breasts with her hands. Cage fighter stepped into help, pinning Lekia's wrists on the floor, so his buddy could slap-away without interference. Soon surfer deposited his load into her backside. By then, cage fighter was rock hard and ready for his turn. Over the course of the entire session, Lekia had at least five intense orgasms herself. She would tremble and shake and cum all over whichever cock was driving into her wet and willing pussy. She couldn't deny that, despite the mixed emotions, her body was reaching pleasures she'd only ever imagined before now. Fuck, maybe I truly am I slut? Why do I love this so much? Fuck me. Yes, yes...FUCK ME! An hour later, Lekia lay on the floor, cum still leaking out her holes. She had a soft smile on her face. The men were getting dressed and about to leave. Steve looked down at her and warned her that the television interview was only an hour away and she best take a shower to get ready for it. The hot water felt soothing as it poured down over her body. What are they going to make me say? The fuck session now behind her, the worry of her ominous situation returned. She dried herself in the restroom, and selected new clothes from her dwindling suitcase. She selected something as conservative as possible. When she exited the room, there were already two guards waiting to accompany her to the station. Everything seemed to be happening so fast. In the green room the make-up woman whispered to her, while applying some eye-shadow and blush. "You are the most talked about news phenomenon since the apocalypse," she said. That only made Lekia more nervous. In an attempt to keep her mind occupied she stared at the television monitor on the wall, and tried to concentrate on the program that was airing before her live speech. It was an investigative news story about the persistent rumors that there were indeed a hundred thousand or so people living in the underground of Manhattan. The report stated that, if true, it was surely a place of complete lawlessness: a wasteland of crime, corruption and debauchery. The New Authority's official position was that these rumors were completely and unequivocally false. Either way, it made for good TV. There was a knock on the door. "You're on in 60 seconds," the producer said entering the room, and then with distain in his expression he handed Lekia an envelope. "Here's your speech". In the studio, the bright lights shone upon Lekia's face. She couldn't help but think about the millions of people, comfortably watching on a myriad of devices. "Hello to everyone in the five cities. My name is Lekia. I am what is known as..." Lekia's eyes widened when she saw the words written in the speech. Oh fuck no! I can't read this. No! However, gathering all her composure, she continued, her voice shaky. "I am what is known as a whore. While this term is somewhat outdated, it means that I will..," she paused again, and then apprehensively continued, "happily engage in sex with almost anyone, male or female. You might also refer to me as a slut, or a tramp." Douche bags, I can't believe these bastards are making me say this. How fucking embarrassing! "My actions, last night, in the security prison were intentional. I knew I was being filmed, and I wanted to put on a show for the guards. Secretly I hoped they would share it. I'm like that. Today the New Authority explained very properly the error of my ways." The poor girl's thoughts were in sharp contrast to the words escaping her mouth: Self-serving lying pieces of shit. I can't believe they are throwing me under the bus like this. Fuck, I must sound pathetic. "I only ask for your patience, and your tolerance, as they put me into therapy immediately to cure me of my twisted depraved ways. Should you decide to punish me, publicly or otherwise, I will accept the punishment willingly and deservedly." How dare you punish me? Are you fucking kidding me? Doom and Domination Following the interview, Lekia was escorted back to the security room. She requested a meeting with the PR representatives who'd arranged the speech, and to her surprise, it was granted. "How dare you make me say those things! Why? Why?" The executives explained their rationale. It was simple, really. The more immoral and twisted Lekia appeared, the more sheltered the government officials appeared. Then, to Lekia's horror, the PR people explained the next stage of their elaborate strategy. "We are currently conducting an on-line referendum. Every eligible adult citizen is allowed to vote." "What on Earth 2.0 is everyone voting on?" she asked, afraid to hear the answer. "Whether or not you should be publicly whipped." Lekia cried herself to sleep that night, reflecting back on the absurdity of the day. First, waking up to hear that she'd been videoed masturbating, and then reaching orgasm in the Great Hall in front of the government. That led to strangely satisfying sex with three men, before reading a bogus and deeply humiliating confession on national television. How could it get any more bizarre? One word: referendum. She fell asleep with endless questions running through her head: They are holding a referendum to see if I deserve to get whipped? Whipped? Really? For fuck's sake, after all this, now they want to whip me on television? In the morning her heart sank when the results of the overnight poll were released. The conservative citizens wanted to see her whipped to pay for her slutty ways. Liberal thinkers and those sympathetic voted to spare her. The balance was determined by anyone with a kinky interest, who simply wanted to see a beautiful girl whipped, especially since her confession seemed to welcome such treatment. Fifty-four percent of the population voted yes, and a new television special was arranged for the following week: 'A Live-Eye Special Presentation: The Whipping of Lekia.' Chapter 7. The President. As the week unfolded, Lekia did her best to gain favor with the government officials and guards alike. She slept with the covers tucked up around her neck. She wore not one, but two bras, in a fraught attempt to show modesty. She was brought forward before the Great Hall again and pleaded for leniency. While it was absolutely certain that the whipping would proceed as planned, perhaps she could affect the severity of it? It was worth a try. Steve Derwon was put in charge of the whipping, and it was no surprise that he recommended his two friends, surfer-boy and cage-fighter, to administer the upcoming thrashing. The Executive council voted on Steve's suggestion, and it was approved unanimously. Lekia shuddered. She'd be whipped by the very men who fucked her only days earlier. Strangely this added to the humiliation of it. That evening in her security room, Steve came to visit her, as he did most nights. "Please," she pleaded, "ask your friends to go easy on me, when the day comes." However, Steve was there with another matter to discuss. "Do you trust me?" he asked her. "Do I have a choice?" she answered. Steve went on to explain that in the same way that he was able to determine that Lekia had submissive tendencies, he recognized dominant tendencies in President Smythe. "So, what?" Lekia was confused; she did not see what any of that had to do with her. "President Smythe is a closet Domme, and a closet lesbian. In this new era, such an admission would ruin her political career. I see the way she looks at you. When you were cumming against my touch in the Great Hall, she was squirming in her seat. Secretly, she's dying to get her hands on you." "Oh my. Does...does she want to have sex with me?" "She does, but she's far too proud to admit it. I've told her already, that you've been begging me for days to arrange for you to eat her pussy." "What?? Are you insane? You told her that I've been begging to eat her pussy? What did she say?" "At first she said no, but she eventually came around to it. She knows no one will ever find out. And if they did, she'd deny it. With your track record, no one would believe you." "Oh my gosh, so this is going to happen?" "She's waiting for you now." Lekia sighed heavily. Just when she thought her state of affairs could get no bleaker, the situation would somehow sink to a new level. As they walked to the President's chambers, Steve briefed Lekia on precisely what was expected of her. He reiterated that, this rendezvous must appear as Lekia's idea, not the President's. As they arrived at the guarded chamber doors, Steve motioned for the security personnel to grant Lekia entrance. He gave her one last piece of advice: "This is your only hope to get in President Smythe's good graces. So make it convincing." Lekia stepped inside, and the door was closed behind her. Over on the far side of the room, the President was sitting, reading an old fashioned newspaper. It was rare that newspapers be printed in this day and age, but the President must have requested it, perhaps to show Lekia that she still believed in old traditions. "Steve Derwon tells me you've been requesting an in-person meeting with me. What's on your mind?" Lekia wanted to tell her the truth: that this was actually Steve's idea. But how could she? It would only get her further in trouble. Perhaps Steve's scheme, however twisted, was sound. Perhaps her only hope of fair treatment was to first win favor with the President. "I keep thinking about you, Madam President. I guess...I guess it's my slutty nature. You are so powerful. The most powerful woman on Earth 2.0. I find myself incredibly aroused in your presence. I want to...I want to serve you." Lekia felt herself turn a deep shade of red as she spoke. Sexually serving the President was embarrassing enough, but having to pretend it was her own idea made it utterly humiliating. At the same time, Lekia felt her clit begin to throb and moisten. Her body's reaction a reminder that some of the accusations about her were accurate, and it sent her mind reeling: I must be a slut. Fuck. This IS turning me on! "I'm not depraved like you, slut. Why would I let you perform such a pathetic act?" the President asked. Lekia had to think fast. The President wasn't going to make this easy. The woman had to save face. While she was surely as turned on as Lekia, she'd never admit it. "You rule over the five cities, and make decisions that set the sexual standards for the rest of us. No one knows I'm here. Use me to gain direct experience. Let me service you Madam. If not for yourself, for the sake of the people you govern. It will give you insight into the mind of a whore like me. This way, going forward, you know what you are dealing with." President Smythe set aside her newspaper, and smiling, spread her legs. Lekia's argument was just right. The President's tone of voice changed. Lekia had played her cards flawlessly. "Take your clothes off, Lekia. Get on your knees, and slowly crawl toward me. I do need to better understand what makes a whore like you tick. Like you said, for the sake of the people." Lekia seductively removed her clothing, letting the garments fall to the floor. She dropped down onto her knees. The President was at least thirty feet away, and Lekia knew she'd be crawling the entire distance. She slowly commenced her crawl, mimicking the sly movements of a cat. President Smythe stood up and began to remove her own clothing. While permanent hair removal was customary, she was one of the rare women who had chosen to retain her pubic hair. A thick curly patch of brown hair adorned a very wet waiting pussy. Once nude, the arrogant woman sat back down on the very edge of the sofa, and spread her legs wide, very wide. Lekia crawled toward her destination, using the patch of pubic hair as a target. The President started to run her own fingers along her slick slit, as Lekia crawled closer. Instinctively, the woman's inner Domme was emerging, as evident by her words: "Come. Come service me like the lezzie slut you are," she commanded. "You are a Goddess, Madam President. This whore kneels before you." Lekia crawled slowly, but eventually made her way across the room. When she arrived within touching distance, the President held out three fingers, which were dripping with her own musky juices. Lekia extended her tongue and lapped at the wet fingers, licking them before taking each digit in her mouth to suck it clean. "You taste wonderful Madam," she said, "may I taste you more fully?" For almost an hour Lekia paid homage to the pussy before her. She concentrated on the clit, sucking the little nub into her lips, and then poked with her tongue deep into the hole. Each time the President orgasmed, her strong fingers gripped Lekia's hair, while she pulled the obedient girl firmly into her cunt. For her part, Lekia never stopped working. When the President was between orgasms, Lekia lapped at the woman's pussy and inner thighs, cleaning the whole area of the leaking love juices, swallowing any excess. Then she'd start in on it again. Four orgasms later, the woman finally pushed Lekia away. "As you said, this was for research purposes only. I trust you will never speak a word of it?" the President clarified. "Absolutely Madam President. I thank you for allowing me the privilege. I assure you, I will never speak of this ever, with anyone." The dominant woman caressed the side of Lekia's face, and for the first time, showed the girl some affection. Then, she leaned forward and kissed her. It was a long sensuous kiss. The President's tongue danced inside Lekia's mouth, with the younger woman sucking on her older one's tongue. During the kiss, the President took hold of Lekia's wrist, and guided it toward the girl's pussy. Lekia did not require further instruction, and began to massage her own clit with three fingers, bringing herself off while the two of them were still connected mouth to mouth. When it was over, she thanked her: "Much gratitude for allowing this little slut to cum, Madam," Lekia whispered. Both women eventually dressed, and conversed casually. They spoke briefly about several matters. Both of them expressed a genuine desire to make the whole Lekia media circus a thing of the past. Hopefully, the televised whipping would be the culmination of the story, and it could fade away once and for all. "I have other things to worry about," the President declared, "the rumors of a civilization in New York are true. It's a lawless, dangerous, and ungovernable place. We don't know what to do." "I understand," Lekia stated, "I'm sorry for having been such a distraction." Lekia slipped out of the room, and the security guards escorted her back. All the while she pondered her future: Let them whip me. Hopefully it's over, after that. I just want it over with. Chapter 8. Whipping Day. Steve Derwon relished his appointed role as the director of the proceedings. He had recommended that the whipping take place in front of a live studio audience. With the approval of President Smythe, the decision was passed. Poor Lekia cringed at the prospect that she'd be looking directly into the faces of the people who would in turn witness her whipping, first hand. Steve also worked closely with the Live-Eye production crew to ensure that the two primary cameras were set up exactly where he wanted them. One would be set up in front of Lekia, showing a close-up of her face, and one positioned higher up to capture her full body. They had created a custom tailored dress for the ceremony. Thankfully for Lekia, nudity was banned on television, so while the dress looked normal from the front, it was backless and butt-less. A belt kept it wrapped securely in place. The blows would be delivered on her shoulders, back, and ass. Microphones were set up to capture the sound of the whip as it made contact with her skin. Lekia had butterflies in her stomach all day. Especially after she saw the set up. In the afternoon Steve and the guards had taken her down to the studio so that they could measure exactly how far apart to affix the wrist cuffs. She would be bound, standing up, with her arms and legs bound wide apart. Time passed slowly the rest of the afternoon. Lekia had a light dinner, opting for a glass of ice tea and a small toasted tomato sandwich. She tried to nap, but to no avail. She kept telling herself: get through this, and it will all be over. Just make it through the whipping. Lekia was startled when she heard a tap on her door. It was the guard giving her a courtesy knock, signifying that he was about to unlock the door. Steve was granted access, and the door was just as quickly closed and re-locked. In his hands, Steve carried the specially tailored dress, and a small package. Lekia opened the package as soon as it was handed to her, understanding that it was part of her assigned wardrobe. She was surprised to discover that it was a pair of panties, but unlike any she'd ever seen before. They were made of suede, the color of her skin, but with some sort of an odd contraption embedded in, and protruding from, the crotch area. She knew instantly, that if she wore the garment, the protrusion would slip in between the folds of her pussy. The poor girl concluded what was expected of her: she'd be wearing the special panties during her whipping. With Steve watching, she removed all of her clothing, and slipped the tight panties on. The protrusion was well designed. Every time she took a step it stimulated the inner folds of her pussy, but even more impressive - there was also a special nub that made direct contact with her clit. Thank fuck I won't be walking around during the whipping, she thought to herself, this thing could almost make me cum, if I move around too much. Next, she put the dress on. It too was altered. The inner breast cups had rough sandpaper sewn into the fabric, right where her nipples would touch. Bastards! If I stir around too much, my nipples will be chafed. A short conversation later, she and Steve were taken by a special police cruiser to the studio. With every step, Lekia felt the extraordinary panties working their magic, inspiring arousal. By the time she arrived, the studio audience were already in place, laughing, cheering, and even taunting her. A few people had made hand-written signs, common place at large sporting events. Except this time, the signs were less than friendly: 'HAPPY NOW SLUT?', or 'WHIP HER GOOD'. While there were a couple of hundred people viewing live, the real audience was the millions of people who'd be watching on their various monitors and devices. Lekia was directed into place, among the customary hustle and bustle of a television studio. Various crew members adjusted lights and moved things around the set. The commotion was distracting, if not comforting. Bright lights shone directly into Lekia's face as her wrists and ankles were fastened with the pre-positioned cuffs. Her body formed a giant 'X'. The cool air of the studio gave her a chill, as the backside of her body was exposed. Thankfully, the studio audience, and the cameras could only see the front of her. The two men who had fucked her only a week earlier were there, each holding a whip. Surfer's whip was a single tail crop, while cage fighter's was a flogger with at least a dozen strands. In the audience, in the front row, she spotted Steve. He had an evil grin on his face. Then, Lekia heard the producer's voice: "10 seconds to live...9...8...7..." For the first fifteen minutes of the broadcast three panel members discussed and analyzed the news story, summarizing the key milestones. All the while, Lekia could only watch and wait. They showed short snippets of the various videos that preceded today's event, starting with the initial clip where her over-active nipples started the whole craze. Next, a censored version of the masturbation video was shown, followed by portions of Lekia's confessional speech. Between each clip, the panel members provided commentary. The entire segment was incredibly degrading for the nervous girl about to be lashed for the errors of her ways. She could only stand, bound as she was, on full display, while those in attendance jeered at her. This time the announcer's voice broke her reverie: "Lekia, do you deserve and accept today's whipping?" A cue card flashed in the front row, held up by a studio assistant. She knew there was no choice but to read it: "I deserve and accept my punishment. Please whip me to correct my whorish ways." "Any final words?" the announcer continued. Again a cue card was flashed, but Lekia hesitated, hoping she could somehow avoid reading it. The assistant holding it deliberately shook it, as if to signify 'read the card NOW'. Lekia read the words, "My only request is that...that no...no mercy is shown." Just then surfer's whip came slicing down across her shoulder blades. *SLASH* Following in quick succession, cage fighter landed three blows across her unprotected ass with the flogger. *SWAT* *SWAT* *SWAT* Unbeknown to Lekia, the two men had been practicing all week. They took turns. Landing blow after blow on her shoulders, lower back, buttocks and the back of her thighs. The whips began to cause great agony, and her skin was soon on fire. Yet strangely, it also created another sensation. She found herself becoming aroused. What the fuck? Am I a pain slut too? Lekia blamed it on the protrusion that was secretly nestled between the folds of her pussy, courtesy of those inventive panties. As she looked up, Lekia saw Steve. He was smiling at her, and held something in his hand. What was it? It looked like a remote control. All of the sudden, BUZZZZZ. The protrusion was remote controlled! Nooooo!! As Steven pressed the button, Lekia's clit came alive with stimulation. The nub that grinded against her clit vibrated with great ferocity. Just then, another slash landed across her back: *SLASH* Evil Steve was now pressing the remote control at will. Lekia's clit felt like it was surrounded by a thousand pulsating fingers. Oh no. Fuck no. Not here. Please don't make me cum. Not here. But Steve had other ideas. He knew she'd never resist. As the flogger danced across the back of her thighs four more times, she felt herself on the brink of orgasm. *SWAT* *SWAT* *WHAP* *SWAT* Somehow, concentrating as hard as she could, she prevented herself from releasing. Steven for his part lifted his finger off the button. Maybe he thinks I came already, Lekia thought to herself. *SLICE* *SLASH* *WHACK* Surfer had delivered three hard strikes across her lower back, with the very tip of the whip curling around, wreaking havoc on her tummy, even though her front was protected by the dress. The movement however, forced her to squirm uncontrollably, and as she squirmed, the rough sandpaper danced along her nipples bringing them to two very pronounced stiff tips. BUZZZZZ. Steve timed it perfectly, pressing the remote, and ensuring Lekia reached the point of no return. She came. She had an unmistakable orgasm, right on television, gyrating and trembling, convulsing practically, while being whipped, with the whole world watching. Minutes later, breathing heavily, her head hung in shame, while the flogger continued beating her ass. Lekia was completely and utterly degraded. The camera zoomed in on her face. It was a close-up. She was breathing heavily. Perspiration had gathered just above her eyebrows, in part from the whipping, in part from the bright lights which also emitted heat. She bit her lip, and pulled on it. Then, out of her peripheral vision, she saw that damn studio assistant with his stupid cue cards. Defeated, she had no choice but to read it aloud: "Thank you for correcting my pathetic behavior. I...I deserved that."