Gateway to Hell 5

by Arthur Saxon
arthursaxon@zombieworld.com

SATURDAY

“Let’s get married,” said Sam. “Today. Or maybe tomorrow.”

Erin’s eyes widened in excitement. “Okay!” she said eagerly. But then she added, “Won’t you be too busy with presidential stuff?”

“Today, probably,” agreed Sam with a sigh. “But I’ll damn well make sure I have some time tomorrow. We should probably go home for the wedding – your family’s there, and nearly everyone we know.”

Erin nodded. “Perhaps we could get married at my parents’ church?”

“By Trudy, you mean?” said Sam. “Sure, why not.”

“I’d like Laura to be my bridesmaid,” said Erin, her thoughts racing. “Oh – and cousin Candy. She’s hot.”

Sam chuckled. “You wouldn’t be planning to have sex with your bridesmaids, would you?”

Erin blushed. “No – well, maybe – but it would be neat to see them in skimpy bridesmaids’ outfits.”

“You want them to wear clothes?” asked Sam. “I’d kind of pictured them being naked. Us too.”

Erin smiled. “Whatever you want, my darling.”

“I’ll call Trudy on the phone,” said Sam. “She’ll probably complain that it’s short notice, but heck, how often will she get a chance to marry the president of the United States?”

“Will your aides be able to make the arrangements in time?” asked Erin, a little anxious. “Flowers, invitations, the reception, everything like that?”

“They’d better!” said Sam. “I’ll have them call all the invitees personally. Except for your immediate family, perhaps, and mine – we should probably call them ourselves.”

Erin nodded. “Yes – I’d like to talk to my parents.”

“And I to mine,” said Sam. “I haven’t spoken to them in a month. Jeez, think what’s happened in that time!”

Erin chuckled. “First, though … how are we going to get out of bed? My arms are pinned.”

“Hmm,” said Sam. “An interesting dilemma.” She struggled to free her right arm, but it was tightly encased in poo and completely immobilised.

“I thought you were going to stick your ass over the edge of the bed?” said Erin.

“I did!” said Sam. “This pile’s built up from floor level. Are you sure you can’t move anything?”

“I’m sure!” said Erin. “Damn – don’t you have an intercom or something?”

“Yes, but you have to press the button to make it work.”

“Well that’s not much use!” said Erin crossly. “And will you please stop pooping? My mouth is about to disappear under the mountain!”

“I can’t help it!” said Sam. She spat out a cockroach that had just entered her mouth. “This is ridiculous – I’m going to have to employ someone to do nothing but shift poo while we sleep.”

“Maybe they can wake us up if we have nightmares, too,” said Erin. “I had this really awful one last night – at least, I’m not sure … I think it may have been real.”

“They all feel real,” said Sam. “What was different about this one?”

“I don’t know,” said Erin with a sigh. “It just felt different. Demons came out of the gateway and raped me, right here, and then they fixed me up before they left. Oh the pain, Sam…”

“Poor baby,” said Sam sympathetically. “But I’m sure it was just a dream.”

At that moment there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” called Sam.

A slim blonde woman in her mid-thirties entered the room. She was wearing a bra and a pair of panties – both were stuffed full of poo. She did not appear to be pregnant. “Good morning Madam President,” she said, staring wide-eyed at the mountain of poo covering nearly all of the bed and most of the floor of the bedroom.

“Morning Jamie!” said Sam. “Thank God you’re here. Neither of us can move, and we’re about to drown in poo.”

“I was sent to fetch you,” said Jamie, stepping into poo that was first ankle-deep, then calf-deep, then knee deep. By the time she reached the bed it was almost up to her panties. “They’re waiting for you downstairs. My God this is a lot of poo!”

“Yes it is! Now please just help us get out of here,” said Sam.

Jamie sank her arms into the poo and started pulling the muck off Sam’s body. As fast as she removed it, however, more poo from the higher slopes of the mountain settled into the holes she made. After ten minutes, she was covered from neck to toe with Sam’s poo, but at last she had cleared enough from Sam’s upper body for Sam to free her arms. With Jamie’s help, she extricated herself from the poo, and then the two women worked on freeing Erin.

“Thanks Jamie,” said Sam gratefully, when they were finished. “Now give me a kiss.”

Her lips met Jamie’s, and her hand sank into the front of Jamie’s panties. She slid a couple of fingers into Jamie’s vagina, while Erin, coming up behind Jamie, pulled down the back of Jamie’s panties and pushed two fingers into the older woman’s anus.

“Madam President,” said Jamie breathlessly, a minute later. “I’m honoured!”

“Call me Sam,” said Sam with a smile. “In private, at least.” She looked around at her bedroom. It was a disaster – there was poo everywhere. Most of it was hers or Erin’s, but some, she noticed, had oozed out of the gateway on the far side of the room. “This place is a mess,” she said. “Jamie, please could you arrange for it to be cleaned. Not thoroughly – just get rid of the biggest piles of poo. And tonight, I want a couple of girls in here – teenagers, please – whose job it is to keep the pile of poo covering us from growing too big. We don’t want to drown in our sleep.”

“Yes Madam … Sam,” said Jamie. “I don’t think it will be hard to find volunteers. Apparently the word has got out that you like to have teenaged girls around you – there’s a veritable army of them camped outside, all hoping for a job here.”

“Cool!” said Sam, smiling. “I look forward to going out to see them.”

“Can I come with you?” asked Erin hopefully.

“Of course!” said Sam.

“So what’s first on the agenda?” asked Erin.

“Breakfast!” said Sam firmly. “Then perhaps we can go out and find ourselves some volunteers. Then I’ll meet the press and announce the new laws I’m going to have Congress pass this afternoon.”

“What kind of laws?” asked Jamie, then she put a hand to her mouth, fearing she had spoken out of turn.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about something Fay said yesterday,” said Sam. “About how there won’t be any more babies once all the world’s women are infected.”

“Oh my goodness!” said Jamie. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

Sam shrugged. “I’m not sure it matters much,” she said. “I’ve a feeling we’re into the last few years, or perhaps even the last few months, of humankind’s existence on Earth. The rate things are going, the demons’ aim of creating hell on Earth will be achieved in a few weeks, at the most. After that, well, do we really want to bring more babies into the world?”

“A fair point,” said Erin, looking rather disturbed.

“But then,” continued Sam, “maybe this is just the start of a new phase of human existence. Maybe it’s important for me to take measures to ensure the continued survival of our species. I’m really not sure – Mordelus wasn’t that specific. So I think, on the whole, I’d like to adopt Fay’s plan.”

“Which was…?” prompted Erin.

“Round up all the uninfected men and women,” said Sam, “and put them into camps. From this morning onward, any uninfected human is essentially a slave to the state. We’ll keep them apart from all my infected subjects, and breed them.”

“Wow!” said Erin. “That’s pretty … harsh.”

“Harsher than letting them get infected? I’m not sure they would think so,” said Sam with a shrug. “But, you know, as president I’ve got to make these tough decisions.”

“So – what about human sacrifices?” asked Erin. “Are you going to do that too?”

“I’m not sure,” said Sam, looking unhappy. “I’ve got to – my soul depends on it – but, well, I guess I’m just waiting for the right time…”

Erin patted her on the shoulder.

Then Sam looked sharply at Jamie, who was staring at her, wide-eyed. “Jamie,” she said sternly, “you realise that this conversation must not be repeated, right?”

Jamie nodded. “But … human sacrifices?” she asked.

“Mordelus the demon told me it’s one of the things I’m going to have to do,” said Sam. “Don’t worry though, Jamie – you’re safe enough.”

Jamie nodded again, but looked troubled.

****************************

Donnie Russell was shaken awake by his father. “What’s up Dad?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Malcolm looked grim. “It’s your mother,” he said. “She’s gone into labour.”

Donnie sat bolt upright. “Aunt Eileen…?”

“She’s here. I picked her up late last night.”

“What do you want me to do?” asked Donnie.

“Well – strange as it may sound, Donnie, I want you to come and watch. We’ve no idea what’s going to come out of your mother – it may need subduing … or killing.” He looked deadly serious as he said this.

Donnie shuddered. “All right Dad,” he said. “I’ll come.”

He followed his father through to the master bedroom, where Grace was writhing and moaning on top of the bedclothes. Her nightie was pulled up around her waist, exposing her naked pussy, and she was drenched with sweat. Her belly was nearly twice the size it had been the night before.

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Donnie.

“Donnie!” said his father.

“Sorry Dad,” muttered Donnie.

“Focus!” said Malcolm.

Aunt Eileen was standing at the side of the bed, looking perplexed. She had prepared herself with a bowl of hot water and a couple of towels, but she shook her head at Malcolm. “I’ve no idea what to do in this situation,” she said. “She needs a Caesarean or the birth will kill her … but I’m not qualified.”

“Just do your best!” said Malcolm. “What do you need?”

Aunt Eileen shrugged. “Surgical equipment,” she said. “A scalpel, forceps, surgical needle and thread, anaesthetic – not to mention an anaesthesiologist … Malcolm it’s impossible. I’ve no experience with surgery, let alone this kind of surgery. I’d probably kill her myself.”

“So what are you saying?” demanded Malcolm, looking frightened. “She’s going to die, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it?”

“She needs to get to a hospital!” Eileen hissed. “She’s infected now, and the baby obviously isn’t normal, so what harm’s it going to do?”

Malcolm dithered. Then he nodded. “All right, let’s do it. Help her up.”

But then something shot out of Grace’s vagina, making Donnie jump. He stared – it was a baby’s arm. But what an arm! It was reddish-purple in colour, had prominent biceps, and it was twice the size of a normal baby’s arm. To his astonishment, the arm immediately bent at the elbow, and the little hand started rubbing his mother’s clitoris. Grace began to gasp with pleasure.

“Eww Dad!” said Donnie in disgust. “Please – stop it!”

Malcolm nodded, also disgusted, and he reached out and pulled the baby’s hand away from Grace’s clitoris. Then another arm pushed its way out of Grace’s vagina, and it started punching Malcolm’s hand. Then it sank its fingertips into Malcolm’s wrist, causing him to let go and pull back. “Ouch!” he said, rubbing his wrist. “Little bastard has sharp nails!”

The little purple hands now planted themselves against Grace’s thighs, as if the baby hoped to pull itself out of her by sheer brute strength. “Oh Jesus!” cried Grace, as the head began to crown. “God this hurts! Malcolm, give me your hand!”

Malcolm reluctantly came to kneel beside Grace, and held her hand. “Push, honey,” he said, not knowing what else to say.

“What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?” she yelled.

Donnie was startled – he had never heard his mother swear before. Then he shuddered as part of the baby’s face appeared between Grace’s legs. Not the top of the baby’s head – its face. A yellow eye was staring at him. Grace screamed as her vagina widened further, and her flesh tore. More of the face appeared – it looked like an ordinary baby’s face except that the yellow eyes were wide and looking around the room, apparently focused. Then it grimaced, apparently straining hard. Grace screamed again as the baby’s head started emerging, face first, between the two muscular arms.

It was a huge head. Donnie stared in fascinated disgust as his mother’s pelvic region seemed to expand. Her vagina reached eight inches … nine … ten … eleven … and now the head was sliding out. “Oh my poor Grace!” wailed Eileen, wringing her hands together and rocking back and forth where she stood. This annoyed Donnie – a fat lot of use his midwife aunt was proving to be!

Now the baby’s head and shoulders were through, and it was hauling the rest of its body out, pushing back against Grace’s thighs with his hands. In a matter of seconds it was completely through, leaving behind it a gaping hole which was bleeding profusely. The baby turned itself around, pushed itself up into a kneeling position, then it grabbed hold of the umbilical cord. Hauling it hand over hand, it yanked the placenta out of Grace’s vagina, and then proceeded to eat it.

“Gross!” yelled Donnie. “Dad! What shall I do?”

“Kill it!” said Malcolm, after only a moment’s hesitation.

“No!” cried Grace weakly.

“With pleasure!” said Donnie. He advanced on the baby, which glared at him and snarled, revealing, to Donnie’s shock, a full set of little teeth. Nevertheless, Donnie grabbed hold of it by its wrists and lifted it up. It was surprisingly strong, but not as strong as Donnie, who carried it to the window, which he opened with one hand. This meant, of course, letting go of the baby, which took this opportunity to grab hold of his sleeve, pull itself up, and sink its teeth into his wrist. He swore, then he punched the baby in the side of its head, and threw it out of the window. He saw it spin end over end, flailing wildly, and then it hit the ground with a satisfying thud.

But then, to Donnie’s amazement, the baby got to its feet, bit its umbilical cord in two, and then ran away around the corner of the house. Paling, he turned to his father. “It’s still alive,” he said. “And running around!”

Malcolm sighed and shook his head. Then he said, “Eileen! Snap out of it. I need you to sew Grace up before she loses any more blood.”

Eileen shook herself. “Right – yes,” she said. “Um – Donnie, get me your mother’s sewing kit, and boil some water.”

“I’ll be okay,” murmured Grace. “I feel better already.”

Indeed she hardly seemed to be bleeding at all now, though for all Donnie knew, this could mean she was running out of blood. He hurried from the room to fetch the things his aunt had requested.

****************************

Laura awoke to find her breasts aching. When she opened her eyes, she looked down and gasped in horror – her breasts had doubled in size overnight … perhaps tripled. She had had big boobs before, but this was ridiculous – these things were the size of watermelons, and her nipples were now three inches long and an inch in diameter.

The pain in her breasts was becoming more intense. Grimacing, she grasped her nipples in her hands, and squeezed them – somehow she knew this would help. Within her breasts, she felt something move, and she continued to massage her nipples as whatever it was slowly oozed forward. Were the worms about to come out of her? she wondered hopefully. But this was not the case – as she felt the objects reach her nipples and slide through, she saw her nipples expand as a thick turd emerged from the tip of each. Disgusted, she continued to milk her breasts, anxious to expel the poo which had apparently built up within them overnight.

Fully seven feet of poo oozed out of each of her nipples, building up in a pile on her belly and oozing down over her pussy, before finally no more would come out. She was relieved to see that her breasts did not now look so over-inflated, though they were still huge.

Now that her breasts did not ache, she became aware of other sensations – such as the squirming, wriggling feeling inside her anus and vagina. She shuddered at the thought of all the pinworms inside her, and hoped that Danny would let her remove them.

She turned to look at the old homeless man sleeping next to her. He had not had much stamina – after just a couple of fucks he had fallen asleep and remained dead to the world for the rest of the night. He had not even asked her to do anything particularly disgusting. She shook him awake.

“Hey,” she said. “Good morning.”

He stirred, then opened bleary eyes. “Morning,” he muttered. “Give me a blow-job.”

“Okay,” she said, knowing Danny would want her to do this. She shuffled down until her face was on a level with his penis, which was buried in a mass of poo (both his and hers). She took it out, wiped most of the poo off it, and then enclosed her mouth over the end. It tasted revolting, but she sucked and licked it dutifully, while stroking the shaft, until it became fully erect. She continued sucking, even when she heard the door open, and she smiled happily as she felt Danny’s penis sliding into her rectum.

Five minutes later, the old man climaxed and spurted his green semen down her throat. She swallowed as fast as she could, but soon had to disengage, coughing and spluttering. She felt a warm gush deep in her bowels, and she turned to look over her shoulder. When she saw who was fucking her, she gasped in astonishment – it was not Danny after all.

“Dad!” she exclaimed.

“Morning sweetheart,” he grinned. “Just came to tell you that breakfast is ready.” He pulled out of her rectum, and then slid his cock into her vagina. “You don’t mind me fucking you, do you?”

Laura sighed. “I guess not,” she said as she felt him penetrate her womb. “Everyone else does. Where’s Danny?”

“Last time I saw him, he was fucking Candy in the ass,” said her father. “You know, that girl’s cunt is totally stuffed full of cockroaches. You should see the video I just shot.”

“Candy’s here? And having sex with Danny?” asked Laura, feeling a pang of jealousy, which she quickly quashed … after all, she was hardly a model of fidelity.

“Yeah – she stayed the night,” said John. His thrusting gathered in pace.

“So that’s why he brought me this homeless guy to fuck!” said Laura, in sudden comprehension. “He didn’t want me to be lonely while he slept with Candy. Isn’t he sweet?”

“Yeah!” grunted John. He hammered his erection into his daughter’s cunt with increasing speed, and then poured more of his seed into her womb.

“Will this guy be staying for breakfast?” asked John as he pulled out of her.

“His name’s Jim,” said Laura. “Jim, are you staying for breakfast?”

“I’d love to,” he said.

Ten minutes later, Laura and Jim arrived at the breakfast table. Danny and Candy were both already there, as was John. They all stared at Laura’s breasts.

“Wow!” said Danny. “What the hell happened to your tits?”

Laura rolled her eyes. “They got invaded by worms yesterday. Now they fill up with poo and I have to milk them.”

“Gross!” said Candy.

“Interesting…” mused John.

Allie was serving breakfast – bacon and eggs for the men, poo on toast for the girls.

“Ugh,” said Candy as she chewed up a mouthful of toast and poo. “Why the hell do I have to eat poo for breakfast?”

“It’s good for you,” said Allie.

Candy continued to mutter in displeasure, but she ate the toast and all of the poo. Then the phone rang. Allie got up and answered it.

“Hello?” she said. “Erin! Hi! And Sam! Hello Sam – congratulations on becoming president!”

All at the table turned towards Allie, suddenly interested.

“Oh my goodness – that’s wonderful news!” said Allie. “I’m so happy for you both! Yes of course we’ll come – where is it? Oh, yes, that’s nice and convenient. But will you be able to organise it in time? Oh good.” She cupped the receiver and said, “Sam and Erin are getting married tomorrow! In our local church!”

“Wow!” said Danny. “Cool!”

“They want Laura and Candy to be bridesmaids. That okay with the two of you?”

“Yes!” said Laura excitedly.

“I suppose,” mumbled Candy.

“Ask Sam if she can get Mr Howell to do the bridesmaids’ outfits!” said Laura.

“Did you hear that Sam? Oh, well Laura says: can you get Mr Howell to do the bridesmaids’ outfits? Oh. Well, okay. She says she wants you both to be naked.”

“Oh!” said Laura, taken aback. “All right then.”

“Um, here’s a thought,” said Danny suddenly. “What if we made it a double wedding?”

“A double … you want to marry Candy?” asked John.

“No Dad – I want to marry Laura,” said Danny.

“Your sister?” asked John in surprise. “I think that’s still illegal, son.”

“Not for long,” said Allie. “I saw Sam on the news just a few minutes ago. Sam, Danny wants to marry Laura – he suggests a double wedding. We don’t want to steal your thunder or anything, but … oh, you do? That’s great! Oh, you will? Thank you – that’s wonderful of you. Thank you. So what time ... oh … really? Well, fair enough. Okay, we’ll talk to you soon. Bye!” She put the phone down. “She loves the idea! She says she’ll arrange it all. She’s already spoken with Trudy – the wedding will replace the regular Sunday service.”

“Excellent!” said John, pleased. “I’ll start calling around to invite people.”

“What did Sam say on the news?” asked Danny. “Was it about marriages?”

“Oh yes!” said Allie. “She’s going to pass a bunch of new laws today, including one that says anyone is free to marry whoever they like – son, daughter, brother, sister, mother, father, dog, horse, cockroach … and it doesn’t even matter if either party is already married. There’s no limit now to how many husbands or wives you can have. Oh, and … what was the other thing … oh yes – this only applies to infected people. Uninfected people are now off-limits – they’re to be rounded up for breeding purposes.”

“Goodness!” said John. “Good thing we’re all infected then!”

“Yeah,” said Candy darkly. “It’s just great.”

Laura was beaming at Danny. “Oh Danny – I can’t wait to be your wife!”

“What about me?” asked Candy petulantly. “After last night I thought…”

“Oh I’ll still fuck you every now and then,” said Danny cheerfully. “Perhaps I’ll even let you share our bed sometimes. Maybe you can milk the poo from Laura’s tits.”

“Ugh!” said Candy. “I suppose you’d want me to eat it, too?”

“Now there’s a thought,” said Danny. “Yes – you should definitely milk Laura’s tits with your mouth.”

“She can start now, if she wants,” said Laura. “Already my boobs are beginning to ache.”

“Jesus!” said Candy in annoyance. “First poo for breakfast, and now this…” She got up from her chair and bent over Laura, taking her cousin’s left nipple into her mouth. As she began to suck, she almost immediately got a mouthful of poo, which she swallowed in disgust.

Candy’s bottom was now just a few inches away from John’s face, and her roach-filled pussy was winking at him. He grinned and slid a finger into her anus, causing her to emit a muffled squeal. Then he got up, pulled down his boxer shorts, and positioned the tip of his penis just outside her anus. Deciding he needed some lubricant, he threw up all over Candy’s bottom, his vomit surging up Candy’s back towards her shoulders. Plenty more ran in a river between her buttocks, and he therefore had no trouble sliding his huge cock into her rectum.

Laura stroked Candy’s hair while she enjoyed having her gorgeous, if bitchy, cousin sucking on her nipple. Then she took Candy’s hand and guided it between her legs. Candy got the idea quickly, and slid four fingers into Laura’s vagina. Laura spread her legs and eased her bottom to the front of her chair for better access, then she tucked Candy’s thumb into her vagina and, grasping Candy’s wrist, pulled firmly so that Candy’s whole hand slid up inside her.

Jim watched all this with great amusement. He stared lecherously at Allie’s naked breasts. “Don’t suppose you fancy a fuck, do you?”

Allie blushed. “Well it’s kind of you to offer, but John might object…”

“Go ahead,” said John, thrusting hard into Candy’s anus. “I don’t mind.”

“Well – okay then,” said Allie with a smile. She moved some of the breakfast things aside, then she lay down on the table and spread her legs. Jim pulled down his grotty trousers and plunged into her vagina with enthusiasm.

“I’m feeling a little left out here!” said Danny with a wry chuckle.

“Aww, come here and let me suck on your cock, then,” said Allie.

Danny climbed on to the table and pulled out his penis, letting it flop on to his mother’s face. Allie took it into her mouth and began to suck on it, causing Danny to moan with pleasure. Minutes later, he came into her mouth almost at the same time as Jim came into her womb. Allie sighed happily, and let out a nineteen-foot turd that quickly piled up on the floor below.

****************************

Sam, wearing a crop-top that came down as far as her nipples and a nanoskirt that stopped short of her pussy, was taking a walk with Erin out in front of the White House. They were surrounded, of course, by bodyguards, who trod carefully to avoid the trail of poo that Sam was leaving behind her. Outside the gates were a great many teenaged girls, most of them naked, and Sam felt her vagina moisten at the thought that all of them were hers for the asking … or for the taking.

Some of them were too young – barely developing, which did not appeal to Sam. But others had lovely, ripe, full breasts, and still a hint of adolescent roundness in the face. She smiled at a blonde girl she fancied. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“Amber,” said the girl shyly.

Sam grinned – the girl was a doll. “Come to the gate,” she said. “I’ll see that you’re let in. I’m sure we can find work for you in the White House.”

Continuing on, she came across a pair of identical twins. They were cute – not her usual type, but very sexy with their pregnant bellies and long, slim legs. “Hi!” she said. “What are your names?”

“Millie,” said one, and “Melissa”, said the other.

Sam smiled. “Ever have sex with each other?”

Millie glanced at Melissa, nodded, and then the two of them kissed. Their tongues were obviously entwining with each other, and they were stroking each other’s buttocks.

Sam laughed. “Nice!” she said. “You’re a cute couple. Come on around to the gate and I’ll make sure they let you in.”

Continuing on, she selected fifteen other girls, and left the rest feeling disappointed to have been overlooked.

On the other side of the fence, Chelsea murmured to Millie, “She never gave me a second glance. Looks like you’re on your own, Millie.”

“I’m not on my own,” said Millie, “I’m with Mel.”

Chelsea grunted. “Yeah – well just be careful, okay? You’ve got the pills?”

“They’re up my ass,” said Millie.

“Good – now go on … and good luck!”

So Millie and Melissa passed through the gates into the grounds of the White House – and Chelsea was left behind, wondering where she should go now, and how long she could keep her uninfectedness a secret.

Millie, nervous now and feeling alone despite the presence of her sister, nearly jumped out of her skin as her cell phone rang. She pulled it from her purse and whispered, “Hello?”

“Hi – is that Millie?”

“Yes – who’s this?” asked Millie in a whisper, worried that she would get into trouble for talking on her phone.

“It’s Donnie.”

“Donnie!” she said, glad to hear his voice. “Are you still…?”

“Still uninfected, yes. But Mom just got infected, and she…”

“She what? Donnie, are you crying?”

“Millie, she was pregnant! And within days of giving birth! Then she got infected, and she gave birth to this … this thing…”

Millie shuddered. “Oh Donnie, I’m so sorry,” she said. Then she lowered her voice further. “But … Donnie … there’s a way to uninfect your mom.”

“What? You’re kidding! You’ve found a way? How?”

“Go to your nearest pharmacy, and pick up some pinworm medication,” said Millie. “It’s called Anti-Pin. Even the smallest amount will cure anyone who’s infected.”

“Awesome! Thanks Millie!”

“Don’t mention it,” said Millie. “Look, I have to go…”

“Wait! The reason I called … do you want to get together later?”

“I can’t. I’m away from home right now.”

“Away? Where?”

“I can’t tell you, Donnie. Look, I’ll call you later, okay? Gotta go.” She hung up.

****************************

Donnie stared at the phone for a moment before replacing it. Pinworm medication? It sounded highly unlikely … but it was worth a shot. He put on some shoes and hurried out.

Half an hour later he returned to his house. His father was talking with Eileen in the living room. Donnie fetched a glass of water from the kitchen, and crumbled into it a small piece of one of the pills he had bought. Taking it upstairs, he found his mother asleep, with cockroaches crawling all over her. He felt badly for disturbing her, but this was important. He gently shook her shoulder.

“Mom,” he said, “drink some water. You lost a lot of blood – you need to keep yourself hydrated.”

Weakly, she propped herself up on her elbows, and drank as he tipped the glass. Then she lay back down. “I’m so tired, Donnie,” she murmured. “Let me sleep.”

He nodded, and stole quietly from the room. He could wait until she awoke to find out if she was cured. In his own room, he picked up a novel he had been reading – it would be nice to escape from reality, if only for an hour or so.

Then he heard it – though at first only as a background murmur, which he tuned out. As the noise increased in volume, however, he stopped reading and listened, his brow furrowing. It sounded like a crowd of people, chanting in the distance. He opened his window so that he could hear better, and stuck his head out so that he could see what was to be seen.

The street on which the Russell family lived was long, and though he saw the crowd immediately, it was still quite far away. It was, however, approaching. Alarmed, he ran from his room and clattered down the stairs. His father was at the front door.

“I’m guessing they’ve begun rounding up the uninfected,” he said grimly. “But I’m going to find out for sure. We may have to get ourselves out of here. If so, we’ll leave your mother – she’ll be safe enough.”

“No she won’t though, Dad,” said Donnie. “I just cured her.”

“You did what?” asked Malcolm, puzzled. “Look I don’t have time for this, Donnie…”

“It’s true!” insisted Donnie. “At least I believe so. Millie Frobisher from school told me that pinworm pills cure the infection. I went out and bought some, and I slipped some of it into Mom’s water glass. She drank it, so I would hope that she’s cured by now. At any rate, if there’s even a chance that she’s no longer infected, I don’t think we should leave her here, even for a short time.”

Malcolm sighed. “I’d like to know how the hell Millie would know about this so-called cure,” he said, “but I don’t have time to discuss it. Nor can we afford to take chances. All right – help Eileen get your mother into the car. I’ll be right back.” He hurried out of the door.

“Aunt Eileen!” said Donnie. “We need to get Mom into the car!”

“She shouldn’t be moved,” said Eileen, coming out of the living room. “She’s terribly weak.”

“Nevertheless, we have to move her,” said Donnie firmly.

They woke Grace, and it was very soon apparent that the cure had worked. “Ugh!” she shrieked, dashing cockroaches from her face and chest. “Oh my God – they’re everywhere!” Then she paused, and her face crumpled. “My baby!” she wailed.

Donnie put his arms around her. “It’s okay Mom,” he said. “But we have to move – there’s a crowd of people on their way here – we think they may be rounding up the uninfected.”

“Did you cure me?” asked Grace. “The water…”

“Yes,” said Donnie. “But if we don’t get out of here soon, I may not have done you much of a favour.”

They helped her out of bed, and Donnie fetched her a long dress. But she rejected it. “If we’re to have any chance of passing ourselves off as infected,” she said, “I can’t wear a dress like that.”

“Good point,” said Eileen, who had applied similar logic to her own clothing for travelling purposes, though now she was dressed more conservatively. “What would you prefer?”

“I have a thong in my underwear drawer,” said Grace. “I probably shouldn’t wear anything else.”

“Oh Mom!” complained Donnie, who had no desire to see his mother in just a thong.

“You’d prefer I get identified as uninfected?” she asked.

“No, of course not,” said Donnie quickly, realising he was being foolish.

Eileen fetched the thong, and then she helped Grace into it, and out of her nightie. She herself took off her clothes, leaving her in just a sheer pair of panties. “I filled these with poop for my flight here,” she said. “I should probably do the same again when we leave the house.”

Donnie shuddered, but nodded.

By the time they had got Grace into the car, Malcolm had returned from his scouting expedition. “We guessed correctly,” he said. “They’re searching every house for uninfected people.”

“How are they identifying them?” asked Donnie. “If they take down our pants or ask for a sperm sample...”

“They’re offering each person a drink,” said Malcolm grimly. “Water, I think. Anyone who refuses to drink it is put in a truck. And you can imagine the consequences of drinking it.”

Donnie’s eyes widened, and then a smile broke out upon his face. “Brilliant!” he said. “Dad, we don’t have to go anywhere. We’ll just stay, and drink their water!”

“What?” said Malcolm. “Are you crazy?”

“No,” said Donnie, and he explained his plan.

Twenty minutes later, when the crowd reached their house, there was a loud thumping on the door. Malcolm opened it and said, “Yes?” to the men who stood there.

They pushed their way inside. “How many people here?” asked the first, a heavy-set man in his thirties.

“Myself, my wife and son, and my wife’s sister,” said Malcolm.

“Drink this,” said the man, thrusting a bottle of water at him. “I’ll be watching closely, so don’t even think about trying to spill it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Malcolm. “It’s all in a good cause.” He took a long swig, washing down the fragments of pinworm pill that he had tucked away in his cheek. “Satisfied?” he asked, handing the bottle back.

The man grunted. “Call your family.”

Eileen and Donnie came immediately when they were called. Eileen was wearing just her panties, which she had filled with poo collected from the sidewalk outside. “My wife is in bed,” said Malcolm. “She just had a difficult birth. If you could go up to her, rather than her coming down, I’d be grateful.”

“I guess that’s not necessary,” said the man as he watched Eileen drink deeply from the water bottle. “The three of you are clearly okay, and you’d no doubt infect her if she wasn’t already infected.”

“Quite right!” said Malcolm. “As indeed we did.”

The man chuckled. “All right,” he said. “Now come and join us – we’ve an entire city to cover. Many hands make light work, as they say.”

Donnie expected his father to decline, and was therefore surprised when Malcolm said, “Absolutely! Let me fill a bottle, and one for my son … though I think Eileen should stay and look after my wife until we get back…”

The man nodded. “Sure,” he said.

In the kitchen, Donnie whispered, “Are you crazy?”

“Donnie, this is the perfect opportunity to protect the uninfected,” replied his father. “And to uninfect as many infected people as possible!”

“Oh!” said Donnie.

“The opportunity’s too good to miss. I’ll take a pen and paper, and keep a list of the houses I visit. It will be useful to have allies in the coming days and weeks. Maybe we can start some kind of underground resistance – get some of this medication into the water supply. For the first time, Donnie, I have hope.” He grinned. “Are you with me?”

“Yes!” said Donnie. And now, like his father, he had hope too.

****************************

Millie and Melissa were conversing quietly in a corner of the temporary dormitory which had been set up for twenty of Sam’s teenaged … servants? Love slaves? Millie wasn’t sure exactly what she and Melissa were, now. They had been fed at lunchtime, but otherwise left alone and given no direction as to what was expected of them. The other girls were variously pooping on each other, making love, or giving birth … in order to fit in, the twins had spent some time kissing and fondling one another, at Melissa’s insistence and despite Millie’s reluctance.

Then came the call. “Millie and Melissa?” said a thirty-year-old woman, coming to the door in a messy thong and reading from a clipboard.

Melissa raised her hand. “Here!” she said. Beside her, Millie surreptitiously palmed a couple of pinworm pills – one for herself, if she needed it, and one for the president, if the opportunity arose. She slid the bottle underneath her pillow.

“Please come with me,” said the woman.

They followed her out of the room, up a flight of stairs, and along a corridor. The woman pushed a door open and said, “In there.”

Millie entered after Melissa. The room was sparsely but elegantly decorated – except that there were heaps of poo all over the place. And there, behind a desk, sat the new president of the United States – defecating all over a teenaged girl who was lying on the floor, while she made love with a large-breasted woman of about twenty. The busty woman looked familiar to Millie, though she could not immediately place her.

Sitting on a chair before the desk was an important-looking military man, who now cleared his throat. “Madam President?” he said.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Sam, disengaging from Erin. “You were saying?”

“Reverend Halliwell,” said the general. “He has now been infected and, as we desired, is now singing your praises.”

“Excellent,” said Sam. “Good work, general.”

“Millie? Melissa?” said Erin, staring at the twins.

Suddenly Millie realised who the woman was – she was the older sister of Laura Moss. The family resemblance was unmistakable, and in any case, they had met a couple of times – she had been a senior three years ago, during the twins’ last year in junior high. “Erin!” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m the president’s fiancée,” said Erin. “But what about you?”

“We came here to be the president’s love slaves!” said Melissa with a grin.

Sam chuckled. “Small world!” she said. “Well, you two – let’s see you sixty-nine each other while rolling around in my poo.”

Melissa did not hesitate, pulling Millie down into the nearest large pile of poo. Millie tried not to show her disgust as she put her face between her sister’s legs and started licking Mel’s poo-caked pussy. She shivered as she felt Melissa’s tongue slide into her vagina. At first she thought she was fortunate to be on top, but as Melissa’s bottom sank into the pile beneath her, the poo oozed up between her legs and was soon completely burying her pussy. Millie was obliged then to actually sink her face into the poo so that she could get her tongue to Melissa’s clitoris.

“General,” Millie heard Sam say. “Would you like to fuck one of the twins? Or both, perhaps?”

“I don’t mind if I do,” said the general.

Millie tensed as she heard the general approach. Her mind whirled in a panic. The pills were still in her fingers – should she take one? She heard the clink of a belt being unbuckled, and, a moment later, felt the pressure of a huge penis forcing its way into her anus. She winced, and wanted to cry out in pain, but she made herself say, “Ooh, yes, that feels so good!”

She moved her hand close to her mouth and popped a pill between her lips. Biting off a piece, she crunched it up and swallowed part of it. The rest she kept in her mouth, to swallow when she felt the general cum inside her. She gritted her teeth and clenched her eyes shut as the general’s thick erection, lubed with poo, slid deep into her bowels. Then he began to thrust inside her, and she uttered fake moans of pleasure.

“You can take them down to entertain your troops if you like,” said Sam.

The general grunted. “Very … generous,” he said. “Thanks. But I think they’re pretty well entertained already. I wouldn’t want to deprive you of such a treat.”

Sam smiled. “Well, just let me know if you want them.”

The general groaned as he poured his green semen into Millie’s intestine. She swallowed the last few bits of the pill, and prayed that she would remain herself. Then she gasped as the general pushed her out of the way. She rolled over, into ten-inch-deep poo, as the general slid himself into her sister’s willing cunt. She heard Melissa squeal with excited pleasure. Then, not knowing what she was expected to do, but sure it ought to be something disgusting and sexual, she started picking up handfuls of poo and rubbing them into her breasts and pussy.

“Come here,” said Sam to her, then. “I want to put my hand inside you.”

Millie struggled to her feet and paddled through ankle-deep poo until she was standing in front of Sam. “I’m yours,” she said, a little unsteadily. “Do whatever you like with me.”

“I intend to,” said Sam with a smile. “Spread your legs, honey.”

Millie shifted her feet apart, until they were separated by twenty inches or so of poo-covered carpet. She knew there was no way Sam was going to be able to get her hand inside her vagina, but she was at a loss what to do about it. So she simply winced when Sam pushed the tips of four fingers inside her.

“My goodness, aren’t you tight!” said Sam with a chuckle. “Erin, have a feel.”

Millie smiled in what she hoped was a seductive manner at Erin, who grinned as she reached between the sixteen-year-old’s legs. Inserting three fingers into Millie’s vagina, she worked them in as far as she could before withdrawing them. “Yes indeed,” said Erin. “A new convert, I’m thinking.” She patted Millie’s pregnant belly. “Will that be your first?”

Millie nodded. “Yes,” she said. “I … I’m really looking forward to it.”

“You shouldn’t!” said Erin. “It hurts like hell, the first time.” Then she grimaced, and a long turd started to descend from between her buttocks. Ignoring it, she said, “Sam, I’m going to ask one of your people to bring us some drinks. What do you fancy?”

“Oh, champagne I think,” said Sam airily. “How about you girls?”

“Um,” said Millie. “Champagne sounds very nice – thanks.”

“Me too!” gasped Melissa from beneath the general.

Millie clutched the pills in her hand. This was her opportunity! If she could just crumble one of the pills into Sam’s drink…

The champagne arrived while Sam was idly pushing lumps of poo into Millie’s vagina. Millie, revolted, was trying to look delighted as she lay on top of Sam’s desk with her legs spread wide open, her poo-stuffed cunt right in front of Sam’s face. Cockroaches ran up and down her body, struggled through her hair, and many found their way into her vagina or anus – often with Sam’s help.

“Ah!” said Sam. “Champagne – awesome.” A female aide poured her a glass, and she took a swig. “Mmm, good stuff.”

Millie took a different glass and raised it to her lips. A cockroach fell out of her hair and into the glass – she tried not to shudder as she fished it out. She took a sip, and smiled – the champagne was nice.

“Erin, could you switch on the TV?” said Sam. “I want to see what’s going on in the world.”

“Don’t you have staff for that?” asked Erin with a smile.

“Sure, but TV’s kind of fun these days,” said Sam.

Erin switched on the wall-mounted flatscreen. She channel-surfed for a moment, then stopped when she reached CNN. In a large, transparent tank sat anchorwoman Cynthia Franks, up to her neck in water, reading the news while thousands of leeches swam through the water around her. Hundreds of them were attached to her, and as the camera zoomed in it became apparent that her vagina was being held open by a large speculum. As Cynthia’s pussy filled the screen, a couple of large leeches swam inside her.

“The willingness of infected people to pass on the infection has led to an exponentially high infection rate,” Cynthia was saying in a rather breathless voice. “Even the heads of government seem unable to protect themselves from becoming infected. China, which yesterday was allegedly considering invading America while our guard was down, has today announced that every Chinese woman of child-bearing age is now the personal property of the Chinese president. Moreover, it says, any woman found to be wearing any form of clothing is to be publicly gang-raped.

“Other countries have passed similar drastic laws in the past two days. The United Kingdom has made it illegal for any woman to vote, or to work in any position in which she out-ranks a man. Consequently, practically every company in the country has had to re-structure its hierarchy, and the government itself has replaced all of its female politicians with lower-ranked men. England’s infrastructure has already begun to suffer from this loss of expertise in high-ranking positions, but the prime minister has assured the nation that the disruption will be temporary.

“Indeed, already several companies have adopted creative solutions to the problems they now face. Jill Wheatley, who yesterday was president of Allied Chemicals, today acts as an unpaid consultant while she sweeps the floors in the warehouse.”

The scene switched to a naked forty-ish woman simultaneously in her anus and vagina by a couple of rough-looking warehouse workers in blue overalls. “Yes, sometimes Donald – the new president – comes down and asks me for advice,” she said. “Usually he fucks me too. Sometimes he brings a whole gang with him, and I have to service them all. And then I tell him how to run the company.”

While Sam was concentrating on the television, Millie used a paperweight on the desk to grind up one of the pills into a powder, which she then sprinkled into Sam’s champagne. Nobody noticed.

The picture had switched back to the tank in which Cynthia Franks was sitting. Now she was defecating, pushing out a large load of poo which built up into a pile between her legs. She pushed some of it into her vagina while she said, “Many countries, including Australia, Malaysia and India, still have uninfected leaders, but it is only a matter of time before they, too, succumb. The infection rate in the States is already up to fifty per cent, though that is a conservative estimate, with some analysts saying it could be as high as eighty per cent. The rate of infection could slow, however, in the light of the president’s announcement this morning that uninfected citizens are to be rounded up and forced to breed.”

“All right,” said Sam, “you can switch it off. I suppose I’d better get along to Congress. What a bore. I wish I could just announce new laws to the press and have them become law that way.”

Erin shrugged. “Can’t you just make it so? You are the president, after all.”

Sam brightened. “Yes, I suppose I could! I’ve already gotten rid of the Senate – why not Congress too?” She picked up her drink and raised it, saying, “To absolute power!”

Erin grinned and raised her own. But then a young man in military uniform burst into the room. “General Floyd!” he said. “Come quickly! There’s trouble downstairs!”

“What kind of trouble?” asked the general.

Millie anxiously watched the glass in Sam’s hand, but Sam’s attention was now on the young soldier, and the glass had come to a halt just in front of her breasts.

“There’s a … a demon!” said the young man. “It just killed Lieutenant Deering!”

“A demon?” asked Sam, putting down her glass. “I’d better come too.” She put down her glass and hurried from the room, as did the general, who had just pulled out of Melissa’s anus amid a flood of green semen. Erin followed too, as did a couple of aides, leaving Millie and Melissa alone.

“Damn!” said Millie. “So close!”

“What?” asked Melissa.

“I managed to crumble a pill into Sam’s drink,” said Millie. “But she didn’t drink it.”

“Oh bad luck,” said Melissa sympathetically. “Maybe she’ll come back and finish it later.”

“Maybe,” said Millie.

Downstairs, Sam and General Floyd found the demon. It was busy fucking a young girl, Amber, whom Sam had earlier selected as a new volunteer. Surrounding the coupling pair were a number of soldiers, all with their guns trained on the demon. Amber was screaming shrilly, a look of agony on her face.

“Hey!” said Sam angrily. “What are you doing to my intern?”

“What does it look like?” growled the demon. It was seven feet tall and covered with red scales. Long spines covered its back, and its elbows bore lethal-looking spurs.

Sam did not want to think what its penis must be like – what it must be doing to Amber’s insides. “Who are you?” she demanded. “One of Mordelus’s underlings?”

“I bring a message,” replied the demon. “The Antichrist has been born. When he comes to you – and he will, soon – you must put him in charge of your military.”

“Whose message is this?” asked Sam. “Is it from Mordelus?”

The demon pulled out of Amber’s vagina, and then it dropped the girl on to the floor. Its penis was thick and tapered to a cruel point. No wonder Amber had been screaming – fortunately, the flow of blood from her cunt did not look life-threatening.

“The message,” said the demon, “is from the Great Lord himself. You may imagine he is taking a personal interest in this.” He grinned, and then vanished.

Sam pointed to the naked Amber, who was now clutching her pussy and sobbing. “Get her to a hospital,” she said to a nearby aide. “See that she’s given the best care.” Then she noticed a clock on the wall. “Shit,” she said. “I should get to Congress. You want to come, sweetheart?”

“Sure,” said Erin.

****************************

The word was spreading rapidly through the crowd. The uninfected were not to be infected! They were to be captured and taken to a camp so that they could be bred. This was the new mission, as told to Donnie and Malcolm by others in the crowd. But how, they wondered, were they supposed to tell who was uninfected, without infecting them?

“They won’t drink if they’re not infected,” said one woman cheerfully. “Then we’ll nab them.”

So Donnie entered another house and found a young woman there, living alone. She was auburn-haired and attractive, with small but pretty breasts. “Here, drink this,” he said to her.

She nodded and drank. A few seconds later, her eyes widened in horror. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed, covering her naked breasts with her hands. Then she apparently noticed her huge pregnant belly and poo-filled panties. “Eww, gross!” she said. She made as if to take the panties off, but Donnie restrained her.

“Keep them on,” he said. “If you look like you’re infected, they’ll be less likely to bother you. They’re rounding up all the uninfected men and women and sending them off to breeding camps.”

“Who are you?” she demanded in a frightened tone. “What did you do to me?”

“My name’s Donnie,” said Donnie. “I just cured you. My Dad and I are starting a resistance movement. Will you join us?”

“I don’t know,” the woman fretted. “God, this is a total nightmare!”

“What’s your name?” asked Donnie.

“Drew,” she said.

“Well, Drew,” said Donnie, “you can stay here if you like, but if you come with me and my Dad, we’ll do our best to protect you from getting re-infected. We have a cure, you see.”

“But what about this?” she asked, indicating her belly. “What happens now that you’ve cured me?”

“Is it … a baby?” asked Donnie.

“No of course not – it’s just poo and green slugs,” said Drew. “You can’t be infected and pregnant with a baby.”

“You can,” said Donnie grimly.

“No you can’t,” insisted Drew. “My sister was pregnant when she got infected – and the slugs ate the baby.”

“Oh yuck!” exclaimed Donnie. “That’s awful!”

“Yes,” said Drew, “yes I suppose it was. Only none of us thought so at the time…”

“But look,” said Donnie. “My mother was nine months’ pregnant when she got infected, and she still gave birth to a baby … only it wasn’t … normal…”

“Strange!” said Drew.

“Yes,” agreed Donnie. “But we need to hurry – are you coming with me or not?”

Drew looked out at the crowd and shivered. “I can’t go out there!” she said.

Donnie thought hard. “Maybe we can go back to my house instead,” he said. “Can we get out the back way?”

“Sure, but … oh okay,” said Drew. “I guess it would be good to have uninfected allies.”

“Excellent,” said Donnie, smiling. His loins stirred. The woman was cute – and she was nearly naked. The poo-filled panties were a bit of a turn-off, but nevertheless it was going to be interesting to have her at home with him.

They were about to leave through the back door when Drew clutched her belly. “Oh no!” she gasped. “I think I’m about to give birth!”

“Damn!” said Donnie. “What should I do?”

“Ugh,” said Drew. “Don’t look!”

So Donnie turned his back while Drew removed her panties and lay down on the floor. Spreading her legs, she whimpered with the effort of pushing, and then uttered a cry of pain as her vagina slowly stretched to an uncomfortable five inches in diameter. Then the giant turd started to extrude from her cunt, and she gritted her teeth and pushed. Panting, she said, “Donnie! Help me! Pull it out…”

Donnie turned back, and shuddered at the horrible sight of the huge poo emerging from Drew’s vagina. When enough had come out that he could grab hold of it, he tried to pull on it, but it merely squished between his fingers. “Come on,” he said, “keep pushing…”

Drew pushed, and pushed. More and more of the poo came out, and Donnie had to steer it around the kitchen so as to make room for more. Eventually, the translucent sac appeared, along with the slugs that it contained. But these slugs were not moving – as the sac burst open, they slid out en masse and spread out on the floor, devoid of life. For this Donnie was grateful – he had not been looking forward to having to keep the creatures away from himself and Drew.

The torrent of diarrhoea that poured from Drew’s cunt was followed, as expected, by a considerable quantity of sludgy poo. When there was nothing left to come out, Donnie helped Drew to her feet. She was very tired and weak as he helped her back into her poo-filled panties. Some of the poo had fallen out when she had taken them off, so Donnie, wrinkling his nose up, picked up a few handfuls of fresh poo from the giant turd and stuffed them into the back and the front of Drew’s panties. Soon they were bulging massively, much to Drew’s disgust. “Yuck,” she said, “why did you have to fill them so much?”

Donnie shrugged, embarrassed. “Just want you to fit in,” he said.

They walked out of the back door, as casually as they could, and slipped through the fence into the garden beyond. Drew kept shuddering at the feeling of the poo rubbing squishily against her pussy and buttocks, until Donnie anxiously warned her to look as if she was enjoying herself. Once they had reached the street on the far side of the next row of houses, they turned and made their way towards Donnie’s house.

****************************

By three o’clock that afternoon, Congress was no more – by unanimous verdict, they had voted themselves out of existence and granted Sam absolute legislative authority. Proceeding immediately to a press briefing, Sam announced a suite of new laws. First, she confirmed her earlier announcement that all uninfected citizens were to be effectively arrested and put into breeding camps. Then she announced that all infected women were to freely offer themselves for sex to whomever demanded it – on pain of public rape. She also announced a new law forbidding women to wear clothes other than panties – and panties could only be worn if they were filled with poo. Schools, colleges and universities, she proclaimed, were to cease teaching academic subjects to female students – instead, all girls attending academic institutions must be used exclusively by staff and students alike for sexual pleasure. Any girl showing the slightest recalcitrance must be publicly beaten with a cane, or else gang-raped. Any girl attempting to fight back faced an even worse punishment – she was to be shipped abroad for sexual slavery in one of several third world countries that Sam had been advised treated their women atrociously.

As Sam made her announcements, delightful new punishments kept popping into her head, along with crimes for which they would be suitable, and she felt her vagina gushing as she talked, knowing that what she was saying was, as soon as she said it, law, and would be enforced by her military. In mounting excitement she continued, “Any woman found pooping into a toilet…”

And then she stopped. With a shiver of nervousness, she realised she had been about to say, “…must be held down, and her womb forcibly pumped full of poo until her belly explodes”. But a twinge of conscience made her hesitate. This, she knew, would be crossing a line she had hitherto avoided. Christians, she knew, were to be put to death, if she was to save her soul. And the demons of Hell would have to be appeased with human sacrifices – this she also knew. But she had hoped to delay enacting such laws, for the simple reason that she was not a killer and had no stomach for passing death sentences – at least, certainly not on women whose only crime was to poop in the wrong place.

She cleared her throat. “Any woman found pooping into a toilet,” she repeated, “must be … must be forced to … to eat what she has pooped!” She heaved a sigh of relief. It had been strangely difficult to avoid passing a harsher sentence – she found that she was distinctly aroused by the thought of a hapless young girl, begging and pleading, being pumped full of poo, her belly distending more and more obscenely, until … pop!

She shuddered, her loins quivering orgasmically at the thought. Then she wiped her brow, hastily announced that the press briefing was over, and hurried out of the room with Erin in tow.

“What’s wrong?” asked Erin.

“I nearly announced a truly awful punishment!” whispered Sam. “I was about to say that any woman found pooping in a toilet would have to be pumped full of poo until she exploded!”

“Oh Sam!” exclaimed Erin, looking shocked.

“I know!” said Sam frantically. “I don’t know why that thought popped into my head – it suddenly seemed such a wonderful idea…”

“Well I’m glad you changed your mind!” said Erin.

Sam nodded. “At some point, though,” she said, “I’m going to have to bite the bullet and announce the death penalty for Christians. And human sacrifices.” She sighed.

Erin looked uncomfortable. “I don’t suppose there’s any way around that, is there?”

“I hardly think so,” said Sam. “Every minute I keep expecting Mordelus to show up and say ‘Hey – what about those human sacrifices?’”

They returned to the White House, where they found General Floyd in quite a flap. He met them on the front lawn. “Madam President,” he said angrily, “there’s a man here who says he is going to replace me!”

“The Antichrist?” asked Sam in surprise.

“So he says!” said the general. “But I don’t believe a word of it. I mean, look at him!”

Sam looked in the direction the general was pointing. Under a tree nearby, a trio of squealing naked teenaged girls were being chased by a laughing young man in his early twenties. He had short black hair, very pale skin, and he was so skinny he looked as if one punch from the heavy-set general would snap him like a twig.

“Him?” asked Sam in surprise.

“Says his name’s Stanley,” said the general. “Little runt – he’s got some nerve!”

Sam walked over towards the young man. “Stanley?” she said.

The young man turned, smiling, and fixed yellow eyes on her. “Hello!” he said in a friendly tone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Samantha.”

Sam snorted. “You can call me Madam President, thank you,” she said.

“I’ll call you whatever the fuck I want,” said Stanley, his smile broadening. “I can snap my fingers, and Bool will be at my side, ready and willing to do my bidding.”

Sam was unimpressed. “Who the hell’s Bull?” she said.

“Bool,” said Stanley, “is of the Inner Circle. I believe you know one of his underlings – Mordelus?”

Sam swallowed nervously. “Bool is Mordelus’s boss?”

“He is,” said Stanley with a mirthful chuckle. “And Mordelus is a perfect sweetheart compared to him. Mordelus is way too hung up on tormenting individuals for ages on end – and of course he’s very good at that. Bool is more interested in the bigger picture – he’s more likely to drown a city in a plague of flesh-eating leeches, or unleash a disfiguring and incurable disease upon a country and then delight in watching it progress. If he has to torment an individual, though,” and here Stanley stopped smiling and stared meaningfully at her, “he is superbly equipped to do so. Believe me, you do not want to test this.”

“I believe you,” said Sam fervently. “So – you want to be in charge of my army?”

“Army, navy, air force, special forces – everything,” said Stanley. “I intend to spearhead your new military initiatives, such as rounding up the uninfected. I must warn you, however, that my father is displeased by your plans to breed them. You would be wise to re-think that scheme.”

“Your father?” asked Sam, turning pale.

“Satan, of course,” said Stanley calmly. “He wishes to speak to you about it.”

“Speak to me?” echoed Sam, fearfully, clutching her chest. “Why doesn’t he send one of his … underlings?”

Stanley smiled again. “He feels it is time he showed himself,” he said. “After all, he will soon be taking over from you, once you have done your job.”

Panic gripped Sam. “And then … what will happen to me?” she asked.

“Oh, you’ll have to talk to him about that,” said Stanley airily. “I daresay he has something fun planned for you.”

Something small and dark, like a fly or a tiny piece of gravel, bounced off Stanley’s forehead. At the same moment Sam heard the loud report of a gunshot nearby. Stanley caught the object out of the air. “What the fuck?” he said, raising it to his face.

Sam’s eyes widened – the object was a bullet. It had not even left a mark on Stanley’s skin. She turned as Stanley looked up, his eyes narrowing. Not far away, a soldier was lowering his gun. Stanley gestured irritably at the man, who screamed piercingly as he burst into flames and burned brightly with a low roaring sound. He fell to his knees, and then abruptly exploded.

“Was he uninfected?” inquired Stanley in disbelief. “You should take care whom you allow into the White House grounds, Samantha!”

Sam nodded weakly. Suddenly this was becoming very horrible, and she felt powerless to do anything about it. An hour ago, she had been almost drunk on power, basking in the knowledge that her every whim could become law. Now the truth was being brought home to her – she was, after all, just a pawn in a game being played by Stanley’s father. Not even the poo thundering out of her anus and heaping up against the backs of her legs brought her any comfort.

****************************

There was a knock on the door of the motel room, and Marion stiffened. She looked up at Chelsea, who was pacing the room, naked. Chelsea nodded. “I’ll get it,” she said, and Marion slipped quietly into the bathroom.

Chelsea wrinkled her nose as she pulled on the pair of panties that she and the professor had prepared specially for emergencies. They were stuffed full of poo collected from the street outside, and she shuddered as she felt the poo squish against her skin. Nevertheless, she pulled the panties up firmly, so that the mess oozed between her buttocks and labia, and grimly went to the door. Putting on a false smile, she opened it.

There were two soldiers in the corridor outside. One of them – a black man in his twenties – looked her up and down, and nodded with satisfaction. “Sorry to disturb you, Ma’am,” he said, “but we’re rounding up all uninfected persons per the president’s instructions. This is just a formality – I just need a small blood sample.”

Chelsea’s mind raced. “A blood sample?” she said, turning pale.

“Yes Ma’am,” said the soldier.

“I’m a haemophiliac,” said Chelsea. “If you stick a needle in me I’ll be bleeding for hours. Will a stool sample do?”

“Actually it will,” said the soldier, nodding. “I’m supposed to take blood, but in view of your condition, I guess I can make an exception.”

Relieved, Chelsea fished a handful of poo out of the back of her panties and gave it to the soldier, who took it without any trace of disgust. He pulled a test tube out of a pocket and dropped a small piece of poo into it, then out of another pocket he pulled a bottle of dark liquid. The cap of the bottle was attached to a pipette, which he squeezed and released to suck up some of the liquid. Then he squeezed a couple of drops into the test tube, and shook it. The liquid turned white almost immediately.

“Very good,” he said. “Anyone else in there with you?”

“Not now,” said Chelsea. “I came here with a couple of other girls – we were hoping for jobs in the White House – but my friends got picked and I didn’t!”

She put so much indignation into this last part that the soldier laughed. “Ah well,” he said, “better luck next time.”

“Thank you,” said Chelsea, smiling. “Hey, do you want a quick fuck while you’re here?”

“I’d love to,” said the soldier, “but I’ve got a lot of ground to cover today. We’re really terribly understaffed for a project of this scale.”

“Okay,” said Chelsea, trying to look disappointed. “Well – good luck to you, then!”

“Thanks,” said the soldier. He saluted, and then turned and went on his way.

Chelsea shut the door and heaved a sigh of relief. “That was close!” she muttered.

****************************

That evening, plans were being forged in the Russell household.

“Here’s a list of all the houses where Donnie and I managed to uninfect the occupants,” said Malcolm, passing around a printout. “It includes the house in which I found an old man who was still uninfected. In total I managed to uninfect seventy-two people in thirty-nine houses, and most of those people agreed to try and uninfect others.” He smiled grimly. “Hopefully the splash we’ve caused will ripple outwards and go some way towards reclaiming the city from the infected.”

“As long as the supply of pinworm pills holds out,” said Donnie.

Malcolm nodded. “True. While one pill can uninfect several people, there still won’t be enough to go around. And I’m all out, except for two pills which I kept to myself for emergency purposes – i.e. if one of us becomes re-infected. The local Rite-Aid doesn’t have any more, and they don’t expect to replace their stock until next month.”

“Where do they make the pills?” asked Eileen.

“Illinois,” said Malcolm. “I’ve already called their sales office – they are not interested in selling direct to consumers, and I lack the money to place a large order. What we need is to uninfect somebody rich – preferably somebody who works at Rite-Aid’s head office, or something like that.”

“Never mind that,” said Donnie. “How about the boss of the company that makes the pills?”

Malcolm nodded. “That’s a good idea. I don’t know who that is, or where he lives, but it’s certainly worth checking out.”

Donnie got to his feet. “I’ll go and look on-line,” he said.

Drew shifted squishily in her seat. “Can I take a shower now? Please?”

Malcolm nodded. “Very well,” he said. “But make sure you fill your panties with poop again afterwards. You never know when soldiers are going to bust in and catch you behaving like an uninfected person.”

Drew sighed. “Oh all right,” she said. She got up, her panties plastered to her bottom by several pounds of poo, and waddled awkwardly towards the stairs.

Half an hour later, they reconvened. Drew, her upper body and legs fresh and clean, sat down with a grimace of distaste as her poo-packed panties shifted and oozed beneath her. “God,” she said, “I’m so sick of poop!”

“Speaking of which,” said Malcolm, “this house is far too clean. Suspiciously clean. I’m surprised we got away with it this morning, but I’m not taking any chances. We need to go out and get a bunch of poop from the sidewalk to scatter around the house. We’ll need to put it in our beds – sorry dear – and on the sofa and armchairs in the living room, as well as on the floor in strategic locations.”

“Oh darling!” said Grace in disgust. “In our bed?”

“We don’t want to give anybody a reason to wonder if we’re infected or not,” said Malcolm firmly. “When people look at us, they need to instantly know that we’re infected.”

“But none of us is pregnant,” said Eileen, “now. Won’t that give us away?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Malcolm, “and I have a plan.” He took a deep breath. “I think we should take it in turns to infect each other, and then cure each other, so that the women can be sporting pregnant bellies even when they’re not infected.”

“That won’t work,” objected Donnie. “Drew gave birth practically the moment she became uninfected.”

“But didn’t you say she looked ready to give birth anyway?” said Malcolm. “Maybe if we cured the women halfway through their pregnancy, they might stay that way for a while.”

“It’s a revolting proposition,” said Eileen, “and begs the question: if we’re going to act like we’re infected, and suffer the symptoms – would it not be better to actually infect ourselves, remain infected, and at least enjoy it?”

“No,” said Malcolm sternly. “Because one day, with luck and careful planning, this nightmare will all be over soon, and we can go back to our old lives. Infecting yourself now would put that in jeopardy. I can’t have you running around infected, now that you know our plans. I’d kill you first.”

With that, he looked at her so seriously that she gulped, and nodded. “All right then,” she said in a small voice.

“But that raises another concern,” said Grace. “You’re talking about infecting each of us, one by one … what if, once infected, we give the others away?”

“Whoever we infect will need to be locked up,” said Malcolm. “Or tied to a bed, or something.” He turned to Donnie. “Donnie, I think we should infect you first, and then have you impregnate the women.”

Donnie, astonished, stared at his father. “What?” he said.

“I’d volunteer myself,” said Malcolm, “but I have rather more confidence in my ability to restrain you than in your ability to restrain me.”

“But … you want me to have sex with Mom?”

“Good God, Donnie, no!” exclaimed Malcolm. “Are you crazy? I just want you to impregnate her! We can certainly accomplish that without … ugh, Donnie!”

“Sorry!” said Donnie, thoroughly embarrassed.

Malcolm looked at his watch. “We don’t know how much time we have,” he said. “Donnie, come with me – you’re going to drink a glass of water.”

Donnie nervously followed his father through to the kitchen. “You promise you’ll cure me?” he said.

“Of course I will,” said Malcolm. “Depend on it. Now drink up.”

Donnie did so, then he waited for some revelatory experience. After a minute, he shrugged. “I don’t feel any different,” he said.

“Nevertheless,” said his father, “let’s get you properly secured. Come on.”

They went upstairs, where Malcolm handcuffed Donnie to one of the vertical struts in his headboard. “Still no effects?” he inquired.

Donnie shrugged. “Not that I’ve noticed.”

Malcolm pursed his lips. “Sorry about this, Donnie, but I’m going to need you to take out your dick.”

“Eww, Dad!” Donnie protested.

“You’d rather do it in front of Mom?” asked Malcolm.

“No!” said Donnie hotly. He knew why his father was asking, though. “I … I’ll do it in front of Drew…”

“She might not want that privilege,” said Malcolm. “But I’ll ask.” He left the room.

Five minutes later, Drew came in with her arms folded across her naked breasts. “Well?” she said.

“Close the door,” muttered Donnie.

She did so. “Why did you ask for me?” she demanded.

“Because I didn’t feel like taking out my dick in front of a family member!” said Donnie.

She sighed. “Well hurry up then – let’s get it over with.”

Donnie reached down with his free hand and unzipped himself. Freeing his penis, he was shocked to see that it was much larger than usual. It was also busily erecting itself.

Drew rolled her eyes. “Getting you excited, am I?”

Donnie shrugged helplessly. “It’s bigger!” he said.

Drew, her curiosity aroused despite herself, took a closer look. “It seems to be growing,” she said.

“Well yeah,” said Donnie, blushing.

“No – I mean beyond simply getting hard,” said Drew. “It’s actually getting longer and thicker.”

Donnie could see what she meant. He was fully erect, now, but his penis was continuing to grow slowly, soon passing ten inches in length. “Could you pass me that ruler on my desk?” he asked.

“Jesus!” said Drew, shaking her head. “What is it with you men and your obsession with size?”

“All right, forget it,” said Donnie sulkily.

Drew picked up a half-full glass of water from his bedside table, and emptied it into the plant pot on his window-sill. The cactus inside it looked distinctly unwell, and this was unlikely to help matters. “Here,” she said, handing Donnie the glass. “Why don’t you cum into that? Then your mother and aunt and I can use it to impregnate ourselves.”

Donnie nodded. “Turn around then,” he said.

Drew chuckled. “You asked me in here to take a look at your penis,” she said, “and now you’re shy?” But she turned her back.

It did not take Donnie long to reach a climax. For some reason, the sight of Drew’s bulging panties was even more exciting than seeing her naked breasts. He wished she would poop some more, so that her panty-bulge would grow even bigger. He did not dare ask, but the thought was enough, and soon he was ejaculating copious quantities of green gooey fluid into the glass. Sighing with satisfaction, he tucked his penis back into his trousers.

“Here,” he said, holding out the glass.

Drew took it, and shuddered as she saw that it was full to the brim with green semen. “I’ll go and take this to your dad,” she said.

“You could,” agreed Donnie, feeling a little more comfortable now. “But it’s not Dad that needs it. It’s you, and Mom, and Eileen. You might as well put some inside yourself now – what’s the point in waiting?”

“I’m certainly not going to do it in front of you!” she retorted.

“Oh, don’t be a prude,” said Donnie. “What’s the point? You’ve already given birth in front of me – it’s not like you’ll be showing me anything new.”

“That’s not the point!” said Drew. “I didn’t intend to give birth in front of you – I had no choice in the matter! In this matter, however, I do have a choice.”

“But again, what’s the point?” asked Donnie. “Once you’re impregnated, you’re not going to care if I see your pussy, are you?”

“Probably not, because then I’ll be infected,” said Drew. “But I’m not infected yet, and therefore I do care.”

“That’s just nit-picking,” said Donnie. “Come on – what are you afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid,” said Drew, “I’m just decently modest!”

“And yet you stand there in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of panties which are stuffed full of poo,” said Donnie with a chuckle.

Drew pouted. “This is your dad’s idea, not mine,” she said. “I’d much rather be in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.”

“But that would be dangerous,” said Donnie. “Come on, Drew, what’s the point in being coy? You might as well get it over with.”

“Your dad will want to oversee the process,” said Drew. “So he can tie me up and make sure I don’t escape to give you all away.”

“Trust me,” said Donnie, “the effects are not that immediate. For several minutes I didn’t notice anything different about myself. You can squirt some of my semen inside you, then go and tell Dad what you’ve done. Wouldn’t you rather do that than have him watch you?”

“And having you watch me is better?” inquired Drew.

“Sure!” said Donnie. “I’m more your age.”

Drew snorted. “I’m twenty-six,” she said. “What are you, fifteen?”

“Sixteen,” said Donnie. “But a mature sixteen. Hmm, I wouldn’t have thought you as much as twenty-six, though.”

Drew was a little flattered despite herself. “I do still get carded, sometimes,” she said.

“So,” said Donnie with a smile, “if you’ve no concrete objections – why not go ahead?”

She shrugged. “I suppose it doesn’t make much difference,” she said. She looked around the room. “Uh – have you a syringe or something?”

Donnie shook his head. “Nope – nothing like that. Eileen might have one. Or … you could always use a natural alternative.”

Drew looked blank for a moment, then her eyes widened. “You cheeky bugger!” she said.

“Oh don’t act all indignant,” said Donnie. “In case you haven’t noticed, the rules of polite society have gone out the window. I’m simply suggesting a convenient and practical solution.”

Drew stared at him in deep disapproval. “You’ve only just cum,” she said. “Would you even be able to produce anything so soon afterwards?”

“I’m pretty sure I could,” said Donnie. “The rules of biology seem to have gone out the window, too.”

Drew seemed to wrestle with herself for a while, then she threw up her hands. “Fine!” she said. “Whatever. If you don’t mind putting your dick into my shitty pussy, then be my guest.”

Donnie grinned. “Cool,” he said. “Come on then – lie down beside me, on your back. You can keep your panties on.”

Drew had been about to take them off, but she unhooked her thumbs. “Fine,” she said. She stepped up on to Donnie’s bed and lay down beside him.

Donnie twisted himself around, only marginally hampered by the handcuff attaching his left wrist to the headboard. Soon he was on top of her, unzipping his penis and pulling her panties aside with one hand. “Spread your legs,” he said.

Drew did so, though she was beginning to wonder how Donnie had managed to talk her into this. When she felt him pushing a piece of poo into her vagina, however, she said, “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Using this poop as a lubricant,” said Donnie. “Oh come on – if I impregnate you, you’re going to be full of poop in a few hours. What difference does it make?”

“Not a lot, I guess,” she admitted. Then, as Donnie continued to push lump after lump inside her, she said, “Jesus, Donnie – how much lubricant do you need?”

“It’s turning me on to fill your cunt with shit,” Donnie murmured. “The more turned on I get, the more semen I’ll produce. So if you want this to work, just be quiet and let me carry on.”

So Drew reluctantly kept quiet as Donnie packed more and more poo into her vagina. When she was completely full, he pushed her knees back against her shoulders, so that her pelvis rotated upward. Then he started to push his huge penis against her anal sphincter.

“Hey!” she said. “What are you doing? You won’t get me pregnant that way!”

“But it will get me much more excited than just vaginal sex,” he said. “I’ll build up a lot more semen this way. Then, when I feel like I’m about to cum, I’ll switch to your cunt and fill you with my sperm.”

Drew felt this was getting out of hand, but there was very little she could do about it now. She winced as she felt Donnie’s huge girth slide smoothly into her rectum. Then, as he started thrusting, she found herself becoming a little aroused. “Oh … oh,” she whispered. “That’s kind of nice. You’re so big!”

As his thrusting and his panting increased in speed, Donnie showed no sign of wanting to pull out of Drew’s anus. Soon enough, he reached his climax, and he groaned as he pumped her bowels full of semen.

“Damn it Donnie!” exclaimed Drew, hitting him on the shoulder with her fist. “You were supposed to cum in my vagina!”

“Sorry,” Donnie apologized. “My bad. Give me a few minutes – then I’ll do your cunt.”

Drew sighed. “All right,” she said. In truth, the experience had not been entirely unpleasant, though she hated the feeling of her vagina being full of poo. So she lay still while Donnie’s breathing slowed and became more regular … and turned into snores.

“Donnie!” she hissed. “Wake up!” She hit him on the shoulder again.

“Mmm-hmm?” mumbled Donnie.

“Fuck my pussy, you jerk!” said Drew in annoyance.

“Oh,” said Donnie. He pulled himself out of her anus, and then slid his penis into the poo that filled her vagina. Soon he bottomed out, but he continued to push, until, with a little whimper from Drew, he pushed the head of his penis right through her cervix and into her womb. After another ten minutes of thrusting, he ejaculated an ample quantity of green fluid. “There,” he said. “Happy now?”

Drew shrugged. “Happy is probably not the right word,” she said. “But I guess I got what I came for.” She was acting a little more casual than she felt – in fact she was feeling deeply satisfied, now that her womb was full of green semen. She was enjoying the fact that Donnie was still buried deep inside her, and she was a little reluctant to let him withdraw.

Fortunately, Donnie did not seem to have any intention of withdrawing. Two minutes later he was sound asleep. Drew entertained herself by grinding her pelvis against his, causing his erection to slide back and forth inside her womb. Ten minutes of this had the effect of causing Donnie to ejaculate again, despite the fact that he was still sleeping.

Too bad this was only temporary. Once she was visibly pregnant, Donnie’s father would ‘cure’ her and she would be back to her boring old self – only with a belly full of poo that she would not want. This annoyed her – who the hell was Malcolm to decide what she could and could not do with her body?

She shook Donnie again. “Donnie!” she said.

“Huh?”

“Donnie, I don’t want to be cured,” she said.

“Me neither,” murmured Donnie.

“So what are we going to do?”

Donnie rolled off her, his penis backing out of her womb and then out of her vagina. “Well I don’t want anything bad to happen to Mom or Dad,” he said. “We’d better just get out of here. Hey, maybe we could go back to your place?”

Drew smiled as she replaced the gusset of her panties over her vaginal opening. “Sounds like a good idea,” she said. “But I’ll have to un-cuff you first. Any idea where your dad keeps the keys?”

“Yeah – on him,” said Donnie sourly. “Damn. Well, do you think you could go and stand by the door, then hit him over the head when he comes in? Not too hard, just enough to knock him cold long enough for you to take his keys.”

Drew bit her lip. “I could try,” she said. “But, um, he’s a big guy…”

“Well, if you think you could pick his pocket…”

She shook her head. “No – I think I’ll have more luck knocking him out.” She climbed off the bed and started to dismantle Donnie’s bedside lamp. Removing the shade and the bulb, she was left with just the weighty base, which she figured ought to make a good cudgel.

“Wait,” said Donnie. “I have a better idea…”

A minute later, Drew left the room and went in search of Malcolm. She found him in his bedroom, browsing the internet with a frown on his face. “Well,” she said, “it took longer than I would have guessed, but Danny’s dick is starting to get bigger. I don’t know whether it’s ready to produce that green stuff, but it’s definitely bigger.”

“Good, good,” said Malcolm, still staring at the screen. “Do you want to be the first to let him impregnate you?”

Drew killed an eager affirmative before it reached her lips. “I’d rather stay uninfected as long as possible!” she said instead, with a fake shudder.

Malcolm chuckled. “No problem,” he said. “I’ll get Grace and Eileen to go in to him first.”

“I’m thirsty,” said Drew. “Is there anything in this house that’s safe to drink?”

“There’s orange juice in the fridge,” said Malcolm. “And some pineapple, I think. Oh, and plenty of bottled water in the closet under the stairs.”

“Thanks,” said Drew. “Want me to get you something?”

“Uh, yes please,” said Malcolm. “Orange juice would be great.”

Smiling to herself, Drew trotted downstairs to the kitchen, where she poured some orange juice into a glass, and then topped it up with water from the tap. Then she poured herself some juice, since she was indeed thirsty. Returning upstairs, she handed Malcolm the glass containing the tap water, and watched him closely.

“Thanks,” said Malcolm, and he took a swig from the glass.

Smiling to herself, Drew went back downstairs, where she pushed out a long, thick poo into her overcrowded panties, and then prepared drinks for Grace and Eileen.

****************************

Back in the Oval Office, Sam tried to forget her troubles by making love with Erin in one of the vast piles of poo she had created. It was difficult, though, with Stanley the Antichrist watching them. Fortunately, he eventually apparently decided he had important military things to attend to, and departed, much to Sam’s relief.

“Thank goodness he’s gone!” she said. “That guy totally freaks me out.”

Erin nodded. “Me too,” she agreed. Then she smiled. “But don’t worry about him – we’re getting married tomorrow!”

Sam smiled. “Yes we are,” she said. “I hope that all goes well. I’ve booked the reception at the Adonis Palace – you know, the place where Serena had her bachelorette party?”

“Cool!” said Erin. “That was a fun evening. Did you invite the girls from the office?”

“Of course,” said Sam. Then she frowned. “Hey, what happened to Vicky? She was supposed to be coming here yesterday.”

“So she was!” said Erin. “Maybe she changed her mind.”

Sam looked worried. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe something happened to her. Douglas!”

“Yes, Madam President?”

“I’m expecting a visitor – Vicky Bauer. She may have been waylaid by soldiers, or … or anything! Please could you ask around and see if you can find out where she is.”

“Certainly, Madam President,” said Douglas, and he marched from the room.

Sam smiled at Erin, and then kissed her on the lips. For the next ten minutes they entwined limbs and tongues, Sam defecating constantly throughout. It had now been several hours since her last, very brief break between poopings, and she suspected that she would not have another. Indeed, her rate of defecation seemed to be increasing – her poo was quite solid, but it was pouring out of her anus at a rate of nearly three feet per second.

“Where are my favourite twins?” asked Sam suddenly.

Erin shrugged. “Want me to go and find them?”

“You’re not one of my aides, Erin,” said Sam disapprovingly. “Jamie!”

“Yes, Madam President?”

“Find the twins, please. What were their names – Millie and Melinda, was it?”

“Millie and Melissa,” said Erin.

“Right – and hurry up please – I feel like pooping into someone’s vagina.”

“Yes, Madam President,” said Jamie.

“You can poop into mine if you like,” offered Erin.

Sam smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “I think I will.”

Twenty minutes later, as Millie entered the Oval Office with her sister, she was disgusted to see that the entire floor was covered in poo that was ankle-deep at a minimum, and in some places nearly two feet deep. Glancing over at Sam’s desk, she saw that the glass of champagne which Sam had left un-drunk was no longer there. She wondered if whoever had cleared it away had drunk any of it. It might be useful to find that out.

The president was on the floor, half-buried in shit, writhing around with her lover, Erin. Millie suppressed the urge to screw up her face in disgust, and instead forced a smile. “You sent for us, Madam President?”

Sam looked up and grinned at them. “Get down here and join us!” she said. “I want to poop into both your vaginas – how does that sound?”

“Awesome!” said Melissa.

“Lovely!” said Millie.

Melissa was the first to get down on her hands and knees and crawl through the thick carpet of poo to where Sam was lying. She scooted her bottom forward until her pussy was just in front of Sam’s anus, and she could feel the warmth from Sam’s fresh poo spreading outwards, contrasting with the cooler, drier stuff elsewhere in the room. She and Sam manoeuvred until their legs were scissoring each other, and Sam pressed her anus against Melissa’s vaginal opening. Instantly Melissa felt Sam’s poo surging up inside her, filling her cunt and then pushing through her cervix into her womb, where it ran up against a huge quantity of poo and leech-creatures in their clear sac.

“Oh God!” groaned Melissa, feeling her belly beginning to expand. Within a minute it was as large as that of a woman about to give birth, but still Sam continued to force her poo into Melissa’s cunt.

“I’m going to explode!” cried Melissa, knowing she could not take much more of this.

Sam, excited, pressed her anus all the more tightly against Melissa’s vagina, and Melissa, still eager to please despite her fear of what was about to happen, pushed back.

But the expected explosion never came. Melissa continued to expand, until her belly was almost twice the size of a beach ball, at which point the pressure from within her became so great that poo started oozing outwards from between her cunt and Sam’s anus. No matter how hard Sam pressed herself against Melissa, she could not prevent the poo from escaping. Frustrated, she pulled away and sat up.

“Plug yourself up,” she said. “I don’t care what with – just make sure all that lovely poo inside you doesn’t get out.”

Melissa, gasping with pain, nodded and pressed her hand against her vaginal opening to prevent leakage. Millie, by now terrified but trying not to show it, lay down next to Melissa and spread her legs wide. She knew that her belly was not likely to be able to stretch nearly as well as Melissa’s, and she was frightened that she was about to sustain serious internal injuries.

She was saved by the reappearance of Douglas. “Madam President!” said the aide. “We’ve found your friend Vicky.”

“Oh good!” said Sam. “Where was she?”

“A few of the soldiers had tied her up in a closet and were using her as a toilet,” said Douglas. “I’ve instructed them to untie her and bring her up here.”

“Thanks,” said Sam. “Now please could you find something to plug this girl’s cunt.” She indicated Melissa.

Douglas nodded, and left.

A minute later Vicky arrived. “Oh Sam!” she said. “Erin! I’m so glad to see you!”

The three naked, poo-covered women hugged and French-kissed each other. “Right!” said Sam at last. “Time to make wedding plans. Vicky, will you be our bridesmaid?”

“Absolutely!” exclaimed Vicky. “I’d love to!”

“Excellent,” said Sam with a smile.

Then Vicky noticed Melissa, writhing and moaning on the ground with a belly nearly three feet in diameter. “What the hell?” she exclaimed.

“She’s full of my poo,” said Sam proudly. She regarded Melissa’s belly with a smile, and her hand went to her pussy. “That’s a pretty sight,” she observed, rubbing her clitoris. “Hey – Millie is it?”

“I’m Millie,” said Millie.

“Would you and your sister like to be bridesmaids too?”

Millie was eager for any opportunity to stick around Sam. “Yes please!” she said.

“Good,” said Sam. “Remind me to fill you up with poo, too, before the wedding. You’re identical twins – you should match.”

Millie swallowed nervously, but forced herself to smile. “How lovely!” she said. “But, um, won’t Melissa have given birth by then?”

“Not if we plug her up really well,” said Sam with a wicked grin.

Douglas returned at that moment. “Will this do?” he asked, holding up a grapefruit.

Sam regarded it thoughtfully. “Depends how tight she is,” she said. “Give it a try.”

Douglas crouched down between Melissa’s legs. The massively inflated twin spread her legs wide apart, and removed her hand from her pussy. Immediately poo began to extrude out, but Douglas pushed the grapefruit hard into her vagina, which expanded to accommodate the yellow fruit’s girth. The pressure from within was intense, and Douglas began to sweat, but he pushed harder and harder, until, with a sudden rush, the grapefruit slipped inside.

“Pretty tight!” said Douglas.

“Hmm,” said Sam. “Melissa, be sure to keep your legs together until the wedding. I don’t want that thing popping out of you, okay?”

“Okay!” gasped Melissa.

****************************

Chelsea and Marion had so far managed to avoid detection. Holed up in their motel room, they flinched at every noise outside, both terrified of being discovered. They constantly hoped for a phone call from Millie, telling them that the president had been successfully uninfected, but so far no phone call had come.

And then Chelsea’s cell rang. “Hello?” she said.

“Chelsea, it’s Millie! You need to hurry home with the professor. The president’s getting married tomorrow, and I’m hoping to dose her wine or something at the reception. But it would certainly be nice to have you there, for backup in case something goes wrong.”

“Okay!” said Chelsea. “We bought a bunch more pinworm pills this afternoon, so if anything happens to you, don’t worry, I’ll uninfect you a.s.a.p. Just don’t give me away before I do, though!”

“I’ll try not to! Melissa’s been very good about not saying anything…”

“Yes, but Melissa’s your twin sister. Once you get infected, you might not feel so loyal to me.”

“I’ll just have to try to stay uninfected then!”

“Please do!” said Chelsea.

****************************

Drew sighed happily as Donnie thrust his penis in and out of her anus, and Malcolm thrust his penis in and out of her vagina. On the other side of the living room, Grace and Eileen were tonguing each other’s poo-filled cunts.

“This is all very nice,” said Donnie, “but we have to find out where Millie and Melissa are. They’re still uninfected, you know.”

“As are all the people we visited this morning,” said Malcolm.

“Yes, but we know where they are,” said Donnie. “I don’t trust those girls – they’re up to something.”

“I’m sure they’ll call you,” said Malcolm. “They still think you’re an ally, right?”

Donnie nodded. “Yes – that’s true. I guess I’ll wait until they call.”

Sure enough, twenty minutes later the phone rang. It was Millie.

“Hi Millie!” said Donnie.

“Hi Donnie. Listen – I need you to get as much pinworm medication as you can. There’s going to be a wedding tomorrow – the president’s.”

“The president’s getting married?” asked Donnie in surprise. “To who?”

“Whom, Donnie, to whom. Um, the bride-to-be is Erin Moss – you know, Laura’s sister?”

“Laura Moss’s sister?” echoed Donnie. “Woah!”

“Yes yes – well anyway, the wedding’s going to be just around the corner from you, practically. And the reception’s going to be held actually in the church instead of somewhere else – apparently there’s going to be some kind of ceremony, and there’ll be food and drinks … Donnie, you have to get some pinworm meds into those drinks! And into the food if you can. If we can cure the president – why, what a coup that will be!”

“Yes indeed,” said Donnie, his mind racing. “Well, I’ll be there of course – you can count on me.”

“Thanks Donnie! With any luck, this will all be over soon!”

“Yes,” said Donnie with a smile. “Yes, I believe it will.”

****************************

On the other side of town, Bonnie Yeager was eating her brother Anthony’s poo as it emerged from his anus. She had been doing this for the past hour and was thoroughly tired of it. Every so often, her stomach full, she would have to stop and throw up into a container, which her clever brother had attached to a pump, which connected to a long tube, which was inserted all the way up into her womb. Every time she threw up, she would have to press a button on the pump so that her vomit could be squirted deep inside her. The sensation was horrible. Her only consolation was that it was currently five minutes to midnight – in five minutes, she would no longer have to obey her brother’s every instruction. Her obedience until now had been Anthony’s prize for winning the general knowledge competition at school.

Nauseous, she pulled her mouth away from Anthony’s anus.

“Don’t stop!” said Anthony. “You’ve got another five minutes!”

“I have to puke,” she mumbled. She retched, and then hurled the semi-liquid poo from her stomach into the container. She coughed and wiped her mouth, and then threw up again.

“Now the pump!” said Anthony excitedly.

“Oh Anthony!” she groaned. “My womb’s so full!”

“The pump!” ordered Anthony.

Sighing, Bonnie pressed the button, and then she grimaced with disgust as she felt the poo-vomit pouring into her bulging womb. She looked again at the clock. Four minutes to go. Steeling herself, she pushed her face between Anthony’s buttocks again, and bit off another mouthful of his poo.

The doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” said Rod Yeager – Bonnie and Anthony’s father – who had been sitting on the couch watching television with his wife. He got up, went to the door, and opened it.

“Hello?” he said in surprise to the four men on his doorstep. They were clearly of Middle-Eastern origin.

“We wish to see Mr Anthony Yeager,” said one of them – he looked like the leader.

“Uh, Anthony?” said Rod. “These guys are here to see you.”

“Let them in, Dad,” said Anthony with a smile. “I’m expecting them.”

The men entered. Bonnie, seeing the look they gave her, felt a tremor of fear. “I have the document,” said the leader. He handed it to Anthony.

“Looks good!” said Anthony, skimming through it. “I’m not sure if it’s totally necessary, given the new laws, and the laws I’m sure will soon come, but it’s good to be on the safe side. Here sis – get up and have a read through this.”

Bonnie got to her feet, wiping her mouth, and took the document. With mounting horror, she read the following:

I, Bonnie Yeager, hereby relinquish all of my human rights, and give myself up to the possession of Waleed al-Kelabi. I understand that I am entering a life of slavery, and that my body will be used for whatever disgusting and degrading purpose my new master sees fit. I understand that I will never again be allowed to contact my loved ones, and that any attempt to do so, or to escape, will mean my execution by the most torturous method my master can conceive. I understand that my master may, whenever he is tired of me, sell me, or give me away, or kill me, or leave me tied up in a secluded place for the pleasure and food of hungry dogs. I promise that I will do my utmost to please my master, and that I will expect no reward, only punishment, for my efforts. I hereby permit the most hideous violations of my body, and I understand that this contract can only be broken by my death.

Signed: ________________________________

“Are you crazy?” she exclaimed. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s simply a document,” said Anthony, “which I wish you to sign. And you will do it, because you have agreed to be my slave and to obey my every command.”

Bonnie glanced at the clock. It was one minute to midnight. She knew she had to stall. “But why?” she asked. “Why would you do this to me? Don’t you love me?”

“Not much,” said Anthony with a smile. “Do you remember when you broke my bedroom window, and then blamed it on me, and Dad spanked me with my hairbrush?”

Bonnie’s jaw dropped. “That was years ago!” she said. “I can’t believe you even remember that!”

“I remember,” said Anthony. He took the document from her and placed it on a nearby TV table. Then he gave her a pen. “Sign!” he said.

Bonnie looked up desperately at the clock. Twenty seconds left. “Um…” she said.

“SIGN IT!” bellowed Anthony.

“Sign it!” chorused her parents, laughing.

“You did promise!” her father reminded her, his eyes twinkling.

Bonnie burst into tears, then she bent down and scribbled her signature at the bottom of the document. Immediately it was snatched away from her, and she found herself lifted to her feet by two of the Middle-Eastern men, and dragged towards the door.

“Have fun!” said Anthony. “These guys have such imaginations!”

Waleed, the leader, stayed behind to thank Anthony. “She is quite a beauty,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Anthony. “Thanks for the money!”

Waleed nodded, and then left, closing the door behind him.

“Right!” said Anthony, sitting down in an armchair. “Anything good on?”

****************************

Sam, Vicky and Erin fell into bed together, exhausted from the long day’s activities. “Well, my loves,” said Sam, “I guess this is my last night as a single woman.”

“Mine too,” said Erin happily, cuddling up to Sam’s left side. She started sucking on Sam’s breast.

Vicky pouted. “So what am I supposed to do?” she asked. “Who’s going to marry me?”

Sam smiled. “Maybe I will,” she said. “I’ve legalised bigamy, after all.”

Vicky grinned. “Are you proposing, Madam President?”

“Not yet,” said Sam gently. “When I do, you’ll know it.”

“Jeez,” said Erin. “Already I’m feeling weighed down by poo. You seem to be producing it at ever-greater rates, Sam!”

Sam nodded. “Yes, I do,” she said. “God knows where it will end. Hazel! Sarah! Make sure you keep us relatively clear of poo throughout the night, okay?”

The two naked fifteen-year-old girls standing at the foot of the bed nodded. “We will, Madam President,” they said.

“Good,” said Sam.

She made love with Erin and Vicky for a while, but tiredness caught up with her and she drifted off into a deep sleep.

Suddenly Mordelus was at the foot of the bed. As familiar as she was with his disgusting, maggoty, skeletal figure, Sam could not help shuddering with fear as she looked at him. “What do you want?” she demanded in a quavering voice.

“My master wishes to see you,” rasped Mordelus.

Sam felt ill. “Bool?” she asked faintly.

Mordelus grinned. “The same,” he said. “The Prince mentioned him, then. Good. Follow me.” He turned and marched towards the gateway in the far wall.

“You said I wouldn’t have to go back into Hell!” said Sam.

Mordelus turned. “I said you would not be sucked back in,” he said. “But I am asking you to come of your own free will.”

“And if I refuse?” asked Sam, trembling.

“Then I imagine my master will be angry,” said Mordelus. “And that will be most unfortunate.”

Sam’s stomach churned in fear. She dared not imagine what an angry Bool might do. “All right,” she said in a small voice. “I’ll come.”

She followed Mordelus into the crack, and her feet sank into the fleshy floor as she walked down the pulsating passage after the hideous demon. After half an hour or so, her legs were very tired, but she did not dare ask “Are we nearly there yet?” – and so she plodded on regardless.

They reached a door, which Mordelus opened with a gesture. Inside was a sight which made Sam throw up, a torrent of vomit cascading down over her breasts as she slapped her hand over her mouth.

The floor was tiled with naked women – all with their limbs removed. They were packed tightly together, heads butting up against shoulders, and leg-stumps pressing against leg-stumps. Evil-looking slug-creatures crawled constantly in and out of the women’s vaginas, and apparently they were tunnelling deep, because Sam could see their squirming shapes beneath the skin of every woman’s belly.

All the women were screaming, but soundlessly – apparently their vocal chords had been removed. Sam could see the pain and despair etched into their stricken faces, however, and her heart wept for them.

Then Sam looked up, and saw that the walls and ceiling were similarly covered – the women there having been nailed in place. Sam stepped into the room, stifling a sob as she tried not to tread on any woman’s face, belly or breast. Wherever possible, she tried to step on shoulders or between breasts – places where she felt her weight would do the least damage.

Mordelus, however, stepped on breasts with each fall of his foot. When the ball of his heel broke the skin of one woman’s breast, however, Sam cried out, “Please, Mordelus! They’ve been hurt enough!”

Mordelus glanced casually down at the woman in whose right breast his heel was buried. “You want me to go easy on this one?” he asked.

“Yes!” said Sam. “Please.”

Mordelus stamped his foot repeatedly, causing Sam to scream on the poor girl’s behalf as the punctured breast was quickly reduced to a mangled mess of blood and tattered flesh. The girl herself writhed ineffectually, her mouth agape in a silent cry of agony. She looked about seventeen.

Mordelus chuckled, then he made a complex gesture in the air. Immediately a ghostly black figure appeared, its eyes as red as the dying embers of a fire. Now Sam screamed anew – this time on her own behalf, as pain gripped her body and caused her to sink to the floor. Her flesh felt like it was burning from within – her head seemed about to explode, or dissolve, or be crushed – she was not sure which. Every pain receptor in her skin was telling her that it was being struck repeatedly by white-hot metal hammers.

The sensation lasted only a moment, but once it had gone, Sam found herself unable to move. Her brain was not working properly – she could not think straight – she thought that maybe she was now brain-damaged. At any rate none of her muscles would obey her commands.

“That,” said a voice that dripped pure evil in a way that made Mordelus seem like a bit of a loveable rogue, “is a taste of what awaits you, should you stray any further from the path we have set out for you.”

Sam wanted to say “I get it! I give in! I’ll do anything you want!” – but no sound would escape her lips.

“Now that you understand, it is time for me to take you to the Great Lord himself.”

If Sam was terrified before, she was now out of her mind with terror. If Bool, a mere underling, could make her feel this way simply through the power of thought, what would Satan himself do to her? Would she ever be the same again?

The room went dark.

Light returned, slowly, along with the feeling in her limbs. She sat up, relieved to experience little pain in doing so. Then she saw him.

The pictures she had seen depicting Satan as a cloven-hoofed demon with horns and a tail could not have been further from the mark. At least eighty feet tall, the ruler of Hell was a thing so repellent that Sam could only look at him for a moment before turning away and retching. She knew what she was seeing in the mosaic of his shimmering flesh: millions upon millions of faces, all screaming in agony – the souls that he had consumed and continued to torture. Sam did not know – did not even want to guess – whether these were souls he had selected for special treatment, or whether the souls elsewhere in Hell were also represented here, but she knew with an absolute certainty that she would do anything – anything at all – to avoid becoming one of those faces.

She did not even attempt to look up at the devil’s face – she had glimpsed it, just briefly, out of the corner of her eye, and she hoped with all her heart that she had not seen what she thought she had seen. She quashed the mental image as fiercely and ruthlessly as she was able, burying it deep down in her subconscious where, hopefully, she would someday manage to forget it entirely.

Samantha.

The voice was inside her head, turning her brain to ice. “Yes,” she whimpered.

You will infect the uninfected. All of them.

“Yes!” said Sam, nodding vigorously, while staring resolutely at the floor, which she now noticed was carpeted with fragments of bone and flesh.

You will sacrifice young maidens to me.

“Yes…” whispered Sam, though she knew that she would find this difficult, once outside Hell and in the real world.

You will enslave foreign nations.

“I … I’ll try!” said Sam. “But … some of them have powerful armies…”

My son will assist. You will be victorious, always.

“Yes,” said Sam, knowing it was useless and dangerous to argue. “Yes, my Lord.” She looked up, then, to avoid staring any more at the macabre floor, and she was surprised to see a cage hanging from the ceiling, perhaps fifty yards away or so in the corner of the room. Inside was a white, glowing figure whose details she could not make out.

That is God.

Sam’s brain almost fused with astonishment. “That’s God?” she said incredulously. “You’ve imprisoned him?”

He is not as omnipotent as he would like you to think.

All hope for the future of Earth deserted Sam. “Is there anything I can do,” she said in a small voice, “to avoid eternal torture in Hell?”

Nothing. I rejoice in every soul I can capture. Now I will have them all. I am particularly looking forward to tormenting yours.

Sam’s heart sank. “Then what is the point in my helping you at all?” she asked.

It will buy you some time among the living.

Sam nodded. She knew that she had no choice – if all she had left was her time on Earth, then she would hang on to that and prolong it as much as possible. If that meant enacting Satan’s wishes, then she would do that.

“I’m yours, my Lord,” she said. “I will do whatever you wish.”

I will come to your wedding tomorrow.

Sam almost looked up at the face she must not think about, she was so surprised. “You want to come to my wedding?” she asked in surprise.

I wish to give you away.

“Oh!” said Sam. “But … my dad… sorry, yes, of course.”

A beam of light seemed to dart from the cage in the corner, hitting her in the head. At once her mind was filled with knowledge, coming upon her so suddenly that she gasped. In a fraction of a second, a conversation played out in her mind:

Samantha.

‘Is that … God?’

Only you can stop this. Repent of your sins, Samantha. Turn to me. Your soul is not yet lost.

‘It isn’t?? After all I’ve done?’

Nothing is unforgivable, Samantha, if you truly repent. Turn to me, and you can yet be saved.

‘But … how did he lock you up?’

I allowed Satan a part of his mind that I could not penetrate – it was his price for not directly intervening on Earth. He turned that part of his mind inside-out, and created a cage from it – a trap into which I unknowingly walked.

‘But you’re supposed to know everything!’

Everything except that which I choose not to know. But hurry – my escape can be effected if you act swiftly.

Sam rose to her feet, and faced the cage. “I repent of my sins!” she announced.

WHAT?

“I turn to God, and Jesus!”

Did he communicate with you? How is that possible? That cage is suppose to be impenetrable to his thought!

“I don’t know and I don’t care. I refuse to do anything else you say, Satan – I belong to God now.”

Well done, Samantha.

Foolish girl! You could have lived for a hundred years more. Now, you will die.

At that moment the roof of the cavern split apart, and bright white light poured in. Dozens of shining figures swooped down and flew at dizzying speeds around the chamber. Three of them descended upon Satan, who uttered a blood-curdling scream of rage that made Sam drop to the floor in a foetal position and put her hands over her ears. Another of the figures flew to the cage, and, a fraction of a section later, the cage exploded into nothingness.

Samantha – it is time for you to go back.

‘Thank you!’ Sam thought, desperately wishing to get out of there.

Then consciousness deserted her.

****************************

“Sam, are you okay?”

Sam started, and sat up straight. Completely disoriented, it took her a moment to realise that she was in the conference room at work, sitting at a table with Tony, Frank, Erin, Vicky, Amanda and Thomas. “Yes, I’m fine,” she said.

“Looks like you dozed off for a moment there,” said Tony. “Meeting boring you?”

“No!” she said. “Sorry. Um … sorry.”

She was terribly confused. She smiled warmly at Erin, but Erin merely raised an eyebrow and looked away. This was very upsetting. She looked at her watch, at the date, and her blood ran cold. It was the day it had all begun – the day she had first pooped herself and then gone out to dinner with her sister. Only it was just eleven o’clock in the morning!

Her mind raced, and she paid little attention to what Tony was saying about next week’s team-building exercise. Had God sent her back in time, to before everything happened? Or had everything – all the bizarre things that had happened to her over the last couple of weeks – been a dream she had had when she nodded off in the meeting?

The latter explanation made a kind of sense. Looking over at Vicky, Sam could see a great deal of thigh revealed by Vicky’s short skirt. And she was acutely aware of a considerable pressure in her own bowels. In fact she desperately needed to poop. Her apartment had a cockroach problem, and that morning she had found one in her underwear drawer. All the ingredients of her dream, if dream it was, were there – all the seeds that a dream could exaggerate. Yet it had been so detailed! So long!

The meeting finished, Sam returned to her desk. She was dressed conservatively, she noticed – a cream-coloured blouse and a knee-length black skirt. How horribly concealing they now seemed! Yet, as she thought about the clothes she had worn in her dream, she shuddered – she was beginning to lose her grip on that mind-set, and she was struggling to remember why she had ever considered it a good thing to show her panties in public … let alone her naked pussy and breasts!

Noon rolled around, and Sam stopped by Erin’s desk on her way out to lunch. “Erin,” she said, “I had this crazy dream during the meeting.”

Erin chuckled. “So you were asleep!” she said.

“Well yes,” said Sam, “I guess. But … I’m not even sure whether it was actually a dream.”

“What do you mean?” asked Erin, frowning.

“Oh I don’t know,” said Sam with a sigh. “It was too long, too involved, too real… You were in it, and Vicky … and, well, everyone here. I was president,” she suddenly remembered.

“Of the company?” asked Erin with a smile.

“Of the country!” said Sam. “And you … well…” She paused, not wanting to admit that she had any feelings for Erin. She was not even sure that she did. She was so confused!

“Yes?” asked Erin. “What about me?”

Sam shrugged. “You and I were … good friends. You came to stay at the White House.”

Erin laughed. “And you don’t think it was a dream?”

Sam laughed too. “I guess it was. And a good thing too! Lots of horrible things happened. To both of us. And to Danny and Laura. Well, to Laura…”

Erin stopped laughing immediately. “Danny and Laura?” she said. “What about them?”

Sam looked uncomfortable. “Well – they were in my dream. I spent some time at your house, you see…”

Erin’s eyes narrowed. “Describe them,” she said. “I know you’ve never met them…”

Sam sat down on the edge of the desk. “Well, in my dream, Laura was somewhat shorter than you – and a little plumper. Not quite as pretty as you, but her boobs were bigger. She favoured – at least at first – long dresses and cardigans, and she seemed to glide when she walked. She was quite prim and aloof – again, at first. Her hair was long, straight, and brown, and she had your eyes…”

Erin smiled. “Definitely a dream, then,” she said. “Laura’s nothing like that. She’s very slim and athletic – a distance runner, you know, and she’s taller than I am. You’re right about her not being as pretty as me, though.”

Both women laughed. “That’s quite a relief!” said Sam with a smile. “I suppose there isn’t really a shop called Mr Howell’s Clothing Emporium, then…”

“Mr Howell’s what?” asked Erin.

“Oh, it’s a shop where you and I started buying a lot of our clothes,” said Sam. “Skimpy outfits – and they got skimpier as the dream went on…”

“Oh it was that kind of dream,” said Erin, rolling her eyes. “I’m not sure I want to hear any more.”

Sam laughed. “I’ll look it up in the book,” she said. “I just want to be sure, for my own piece of mind.”

She pulled a telephone directory off the shelf and thumbed through it. Her face fell as she saw an advertisement. “It’s here,” she said. “I think I’ll pay it a visit.”

Erin smiled. “Have fun.”

“Um, do you think you could drive me?” asked Sam.

Erin looked at her watch. “I guess so,” she said.

So they went to the store, and it was nothing like Sam remembered. It seemed to cater to a range of ages, both male and female, but the shortest skirt Sam could find was so long it hardly qualified as a mini. The owner of the shop was indeed called Mr Howell, but he was younger than the dream version, and looked completely different.

“I guess that’s that, then,” said Sam with a sigh, as she left with Erin. “Thanks for coming along. It feels so weird – I feel like I just lived through two weeks and then had them taken away.”

“From the sound of it, that’s a good thing though, right?” said Erin.

“Yes,” said Sam, nodding. “I guess it is.”

They returned to work, where Sam spent an uneventful afternoon working diligently on a report for Tony. As she left that evening, however, and got on to the bus that would take her home, she realised she missed the dream Erin, and the dream Vicky, and the freedom to walk around naked in public, and the feeling of poo in her panties…

Well at least there was something she could do about that last item. Smiling to herself, she raised her bottom off the seat, and pushed. Her anus opened up slowly, and a thick poo emerged. Looking around at the other passengers on the crowded bus, she realised that her accident would be discovered immediately … but rather than being fearful of the resulting reactions, she found she was actually looking forward to getting caught.

Her poo slid out smoothly, and a soft crackling sound reached her ears just a few seconds before the smell reached her nostrils. Intoxicated with excitement, she kept pushing, and her poo curled up on itself and folded and compressed and pushed out her panties into a significant bulge beneath her skirt.

“Ugh, what is that smell?”

“Oh, it’s disgusting!”

“Who farted?”

“Look – it’s her! She’s doing it in her panties!”

Sam grinned as she pushed out the final piece of poo. Somebody ran forward to tell the driver, and the bus came to a halt at the side of the road. “Hey! You back there! You’ll have to get off!”

Sam stood up and stepped into the aisle. Jeers and insults followed her all the way to the front, but she held her head high and smiled as she walked, revelling in the feeling of having poo in her panties. This part of the dream, at least, she could make true.

Returning the rest of the way to her apartment on foot, she was rather disappointed to see how few cockroaches there were. In fact, when she first entered, she could not even see any. It was not until she started opening drawers and cupboards that she started to find them, scurrying for cover as the light fell upon them.

She took off all her clothes except for her panties, and stood in front of her window. Nobody was watching, however, at least not that she could see. Disappointed, she went to stand in front of the mirror, and turned sideways. The bulge in her panties was depressingly small. With a sigh, she went over to the box of clothes on the dresser, which she had been planning to get rid of. Now, of course, she was determined to keep them, and wear them as much as possible … and perhaps even shorten them.

She smiled to herself. While her real life was not nearly as exciting as her dream, she could at least take some steps to spice it up. She ordered pizza, then, when it came, she answered the door in just her poo-filled panties. The delivery girl was highly offended by her naked breasts, and by the smell, and beat a hasty retreat without waiting for a tip.

Sam spent the evening watching television, then she ripped up the uneaten remainder of her pizza and scattered it about the room, for the roaches. Having brushed her teeth and washed her face, she climbed into bed, still wearing her full panties. She managed to squeeze out a little more poo, and masturbated to orgasm before falling asleep.

Continue to Part 17


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