Fall of Constable Umeko Seer

[KittyUmbrass]

Teaser: One great city remains, the Omnipolis, where civilisation survives the collapse of the global order. But not everyone agrees with how the city is policed, or accepts that a strict division of society is necessary to maintain its lofty status. When a newly-qualified constable of the Free Armed Police is a bit too zealous in her application of the law, she learns that barbarians come in all colours.
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The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
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Title: Fall of Constable Umeko Seer
Author: Kitty Umbrass
Tags: MMM/f, F/f, anal, vaginal, hair removal, blindfold, immobilisation, body painting, hosepipe washing, uniform, bondage, pee, scat, sci-fi, post-apocalypse
Content Warnings: Includes divisions into Black and White, which could be construed as implying a racist social structure.
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This story was written for a story contest on TBV, with the themes "Back to the wall", "Uniform", "Black and white".

A couple of vocabulary points:

"Immo button" - short for immobilisation button, a device that blocks motor nerve signals when placed at the back of the neck.
"Monocop" - From "monochromatic cop", a derogatory term for the Free Armed Police because of their black or white uniforms, used by the punk-styled Rebels.

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Fall of Constable Umeko Seer


Constable 3rd Class Umeko Seer adjusted her uniform in the mirror, the crisp black fabric hugging tightly to her petite frame. It represented a lifetime of ambition and dedication, and a genuine belief in the principles of the Omnipolis and its Council. She had studied hard, trained hard, worked hard and finally, she had earned her reward. After three years of duty on the Wall, endless skirmishes against the Barbarians who dwelt in the Wasteland outside the Wall, the remnants of humanity who had fallen from grace, devolved into angry, violent beasts and whose society, if they had any such thing, was ruled by fear and brutality. She had served her time, fought well, proved herself as a loyal and tireless servant of the Free Armed Police Force of Omnipolis. Finally, she would wear the FAP badge on duty in the streets and hallways of the city she'd grown up loving and yearning to protect.

She tucked her feathered dress helmet under her arm, and turned smartly on her heels to march out to accept her new assignment.

* * *

"Let me tell you, Constables. The Wall is the hardest assignment you'll ever have. But there is one benefit. You know where the Barbarians will come from, and you can see them coming. There are barbarian elements within the city, too. That is why we are needed here, now more than ever, since there is no other surviving remnant of civilisation. Crime continues in the dark and hidden corners in the city, and if we do not stand against them, then the darkness will grow, there will be more hidden places, and the city will become another Wasteland."

The Inspector's uniform was pure white, making him stand out among the new constables just arrived from the Wall to their first true posting. Like the stark emblems of the Omnipolis, they represented the clear divide - law versus chaos, ruler versus follower. Constables and sergeants who ventured into the darker places, and Inspectors and Commanders who brought them back to the light, the world they stood to protect.

"These barbarians look like us, walk in the same streets, and dwell in the same apartment sectors as us. That is the worst thing about the city. And you. Yes, you, each and every one of you - you are the best thing about it. The ones who ensure that the ordinary people have someone to defend them."

Half a dozen constables, Umeko among them, snapped to attention in unison. They saluted in perfect synchrony.

Now, six days on from the excitement of the speech and being sent to her district assignment, the reality was beginning to dawn. For one thing, each district FAP had their own barracks, so the subversive and criminal elements didn't really share the same apartments as she did, because she was separate from the general population. But separateness was built into her world view. Her commanders were separate from her, why should she not be separate from the people? Besides, she was still among them, every day, on her patrols.

The district Inspector teamed her up with an older, more experienced Constable 1st Class named Kamal Honeycore, and a Sergeant, Amand Slink. As a threesome, they walked through the streets and corridors of District Forgic 4. Mekhim (Black), or F4M. F4M was far from the brilliant and fresh hallways of her childhood home in C8R. Here, it was common to find broken street furniture, strange emblems daubed onto walls, and even in the stores, items were not arranged in an orderly fashion or shelved properly, but placed haphazardly on the floor or makeshift platforms. It was worse than the ramshackle improvisations of her turret at the Wall.

The most shocking discoveries, however, were that "darker places" was not merely figurative. The damaged street furniture included lighting, and that went for corridors in the blocks, too. On her first night patrol, there had been a whole section without any light source visible. She called it in for Maintenance Corps droids to attend. Kamal gestured not to, but Sergeant Slink said, "Let her." In the barracks later that night, she'd asked Kamal why.

"Just occasionally, the barbarians ambush the droids."

And then, there was the existence of the derelict blocks.

Officially, District Forgic 4. Mekhim (Black) was comprised of six residential and retail blocks, and eight employment and entertainment blocks, plus the District FAP barracks. But when they handed out the maps, there were two more blocks, both near the centre of the District, that looked like the E&E blocks in silhouette. Could the official documentation have an error? Someone should report it right away.

"You're such a newsci, Seer. Those buildings aren't anything. They're unused, awaiting refurbishment," Kamal explained. Seer was getting used to being called newsci, short for newly, lacking, depending on context and speaker, knowledgeable. It was the slang for a cop fresh from the Wall who hadn't adapted to the ways of policing the city, or who didn't understand a concept yet. She supposed she was a newsci at that, just like the fresh-faced 18 year old she'd been when she arrived on the Wall, and hadn't known anything about what it was really like to fire her weapon at a monster who looked so similar to her compatriots.

Sergeant Slink told her that the buildings were scheduled for full redevelopment and upgrade in the next three to four years.

"Three to four years? When I grew up, our district was upgraded every two years!"

"Which just shows you grew up in a White district. It's just not practical for places like F4M to receive that sort of attention. The Council has a schedule for refurbishment to renew and restore the Black districts, and ours is on it, and our turn is in three to four years."

Later, when the Sergeant was elsewhere, Kamal leaned close and whispered, "F4M has been scheduled for upgrade in the next three to four years, for as long as I've been here, which is a lot longer than four years. Guess those other Black districts are taking a lot longer than they thought - or maybe, there's even Whiter districts than yours soaking up all the resources."

"You sound like the barbarians!" Umeko squeaked indignantly.

"Oh, they're not wrong about everything. But if they got their way, every district would fight every other district and there'd be nothing left for anyone. So F4M waits for its turn, even if there are those who take rather more turns than their fair share, because it's better than the alternative. That's why we have a FAP, and a Council, and a system of black and white."

Only Constables of 1st Class and Sergeants patrolled the Derelicts, because abandoned buildings were considered the most dangerous areas, and only experienced and qualified officers could safely go in. The patrols were to ensure that the buildings remained in their correct legal state - unoccupied, and unused, until the refurbishment droids finally came to F4M.

* * *

It took a few more days before Umeko got to make her first arrest. She had the lead, patrolling the upper corridors of block F4M-Res13 - Residential One-Three. Emyla Vuighens, an elderly lady and one of the respected citizens of the block, appeared from the elevator hub with her weekly groceries and turned towards her home, and Umeko raised her hand to wave. A moment later, a barbarian wearing a gaudily coloured outfit and hair styled to look unruly, swung round the corner from a cross corridor. He charged down Mrs Vuighens and snatched her bags from her, and charged off down another corridor.

Umeko sprinted after him, turning the corner just in time to see him leaping down a stairwell. She ran and checked her restraint tools were all in her belt (as if she hadn't done so every floor she walked). Neuronic whip, stun baton, taser, immo button. The thief dived into a corridor two floors down, but Umeko knew she was gaining on him. He was halfway to the next junction when she had sight of him again, and she raised the neuronic whip. With a weird yelp, he went down in a crumpled heap and slid along the floor. Mrs Vuighens' shopping scattered across the floor. The young hoodlum scrambled to find his feet, but already Umeko was over him. She zapped his thighs with the stun baton. He spasmed and fell flat on his front again.

She used the length of the baton to pin him down and attached an immo button to the back of his neck, keying it quite high, because he clearly wanted to fight. His limbs immediately slumped.

"Fuggin' Monopig bitch, this is brutality, you can't treat folks like this! You'll be struck off! I'll sue!" He wouldn't stop talking about how he would have some kind of revenge. She thumbed the call switch on her comm belt, signalling for a Correction Collection droid to pick up the immobilised thug. After a minute or so of his ranting, she couldn't take it any more.

"Once the droid takes you to trial, none of that will matter. I'll still be a Constable, and you'll be Corrected." It didn't shut him up, but it made her feel better to state the truth for him.

Kamal joined her not long after. He and Amand hadn't seen the incident, but Mrs Vuighens had pointed them the right way.

"Just a word of advice, newsci - the Jurors don't need all the data from the chase. You know what happened, so just clip the incident itself. Anything else just muddies the waters. I'm sure you, being the woman you are, did everything by the book. But why give these tramps the benefit of the doubt, when you know he's guilty? So, give the evidence that proves the crime, nothing more." He patted her shoulder.

If she hadn't seen the malice with which he'd attacked the old lady, or maybe if Kamal had said this on her first day, Umeko might have rejected the advice. But now, she understood his wisdom a bit better.

"Thank you, mentor. I'll do it."

"Meanwhile, I'll get these things back to their rightful owner. So you get all the credit for the collar yourself. Oh, one last thing - make sure you tape the button in place, wouldn't do to have him waking up before he's processed."

"Yes, of course." Umeko bowed the way her parents always did when they saw a patrol in their district. But Kamal was already picking up the groceries.

The CC droid floated down the stairwell from the skyhatch in the roof. When it reached the prone figure of the barbarian, it lowered itself over him and whirred. The display showed the prisoner scooped up by jaws designed to lift an immobilised person safely into the holding chamber of the coffin-like carrier bot. It bleeped, asking her to upload her evidence. She gave it the clip of the assault and robbery, and scanned her ident to authorise the transfer. And just like that, she was credited with her first arrest.

* * *

Two months into her posting, and Umeko had become a familiar face to the people on the blocks of District F4M, and several of the more talkative residents were known to her as well. A few more arrests under her belt, and talk of her courage and rectitude soon spread in the various social groups that overlapped between buildings and age groups.

As much as the run-down blocks and evidence of chaos aching to break loose disturbed her, Umeko felt proud to wear her uniform, to walk the streets and hallways, going from block to block and floor to floor and being the visible representation of everything that made the Omnipolis worth saving. She felt she was at last becoming the paracop she'd always dreamed of being, since childhood.

True, her colleagues had opened her eyes to the fact that not everything was perfect, but she clung to her belief that without the Council, things would be so much worse. She'd learned to distinguish ordinary grumbles and gripes from the citizens, from the much more radical and seditious language and ideas of the barbarian gangs. It wasn't her job to make people happy, or punish them for having bad days or wishing their lives were better. Maybe in the White districts, such talk could lead to sabotage and dissent, but here, it was just everyday that something wasn't perfect. Maybe one day it would be, and Umeko still believed there would be a refurbishment here before too long.

For her, however, it did not come soon enough.

* * *

Ten days after her ninety day probation period was up. She was the honour student of her intake group, and received a medal directly from the Inspector, nominated by both Kamal and Slink. She was sorry to be leaving her partners, but they would soon be reassigned to train up another young cop in how to police a District in need of refurbishment.

Handtiz Groova was a young man who'd been with the M4F District FAP for just over a year. He knew some of the same music as she did, and liked a lot of the same holovid shows. It made it easy to get along with him, even if he was frustratingly lax about a lot of things, including physical fitness. She soon learned she could outrun him easily (the one time he'd come close to matching her pace, she'd bet him her week's supply of syntholate. Enough to make her sigh that that was what motivated him to run).

It was dusk, coming to the end of an uneventful patrol. The last part of the route was a simple scan of the streets on the way back.

"Help! Help! Barbarians!" A woman's cry came from one block over. Umeko didn't hesitate. She drew her neuronic whip and sprinted down the street towards the sound. She realised halfway there that she was running into a dark zone, but she had to help. Handitz was way behind her.

It wasn't just a dark area. It was the dark area. The Derelicts.

"No! No! Please, don't!" The woman's scream sounded like it was just inside the doors of the nearest Derelict. Umeko dashed across the broad industrial street, whip and stun baton ready for action. The door was old and slow opening, so she did as she'd been taught, pressing her back against the wall to the side, both weapons raised to fire if anyone peeked out. She kept her eyes glued to the aperture. Willing it to be wide enough to see who was there.

She never saw who came up behind her. Just the sudden crippling pain of a neuronic whip sweeping through her body. She sank to her hands and knees, her jaw juddering and making it impossible for her to scream. The barbarian kept the whip on her the whole time it took them to walk up to her. She tried to look up, see if Handitz was coming, but it was too painful to move any muscle.

The whip shut off, and she slumped. Two hands grabbed her ankles and dragged her backwards through the door, which was finally fully open. She heard a strange electrical buzz, and the door slammed shut almost immediately. Someone sat on her back, someone else grabbed her hair and lifted her head off the ground.

Something cold pressed the back of her neck. In the time it took her to work out what it was, they turned it on and every muscle in her body refused to respond any more. Her limbs flopped to the ground. An immo button.

They wrapped warm, stiff leather round her throat and she realised there was a small mechanical lock at the front. It snapped shut, and she realised the strap held the button even more securely in place than the tape she used.

"Please, no!" She cried, echoing the scream she'd heard.

She felt hands all over her, rolling her onto her back. She was aware of four or five figures. One of them, a woman with her hair sticking on end and dyed shades of yellow, orange and red, came and stood over her.

"Help! Help! Barbarians!" It was quieter, but unmistakably the same yell that had brought Umeko running. This barbarian woman had tricked her. She led the other barbarians in a taunting chant:

"Dirty little monocop, All dressed in black. Went running into danger and didn't watch her back. Poor little monocop is shit out of luck, Cos all the rebel gentlemen are gonna have a fuck."

They lifted Umeko by her arms and legs and dumped her into a large box that was a crude facsimile of a CC droid. Unable to adjust her position, Umeko was left to stare at the side of the box while the barbarians carried her in the casket through the Derelict. She could hear the barbarians crowing over her capture. Laughing at how easy she'd made it for them. What hurt most - what brought the tears to her eyes - was that they were right. She'd gone haring off without a thought for her partner, for teamwork or for standard operating procedure. And she'd ignored the golden rule that only experienced and trained officers ever went into the Derelicts. Now she knew why.

* * *

Umeko could hear loud jeering voices around her. The carriers lowered the casket and tipped. Umeko rolled out onto a dank, dirty floor, finishing face down and smeared with grime. She could hear the sound of a vid screenholder but louder, and more of them, it seemed. The room was hot. And there were the sounds of stamping feet, and cheering. Not exactly forbidden, but frowned upon, in normal society. But these were barbarians, who revelled in chaos and defying orderliness, so of course it was their natural way.

Two pairs of hands grabbed her shoulders and dragged her up into a kneeling position, then one of them grabbed her hair and held it so her head didn't flop.

The first thing that struck Umeko was the riot of colour - to her, the expression seemed literal. Every surface was daubed with reds, pinks, greens, blues, yellows. The costumes the barbarians wore, too, were stitched together from wild rags into chaotic patterns from darkest indigo to brightest primrose - but never quite ever showing any fragment of black or white. With a sense of disgust, Umeko realised some weren't wearing costumes at all, but had painted the colour directly onto their own skin. And some seemed to have embedded inks into their flesh so that the vibrant patterns were permanent. They all wore hair styled into spikes or ridges or wild curls, and many of those had coloured their hair as well.

Only one person differed. One person wore only black, a black that gleamed and reflected the firelight that danced from every corner. One person had shaved their head entirely, and wore a dark metallic structure over her scalp. One person, raised above the others in a vast metal seat suspended by chains above the floor at one end of the abandoned factory's machine house. One woman above all the rest, with a giant dildo jutting from her shapely crotch.

"Welcome, little one," this woman said. "How nice of you to join us. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Rebel Queen. Your kind would call me a chief barbarian, I suppose. But we are not barbarians. Our culture is every bit as valid as yours. Every bit as worth protecting as yours. You fear us because we are different, that is all. We are not the monsters who roam outside the citadel. Your beloved Council hates us because their power would be broken if people celebrated as we do, saw their lives as we do." She leaned forwards to glower down at Umeko. "Fucked as we do. But we believe in freedom, and we believe freedom and security can both be had. We defend ourselves in our own little citadels like here, in beloved F4M. And most people let us be. Your kind hunt down the real barbaric souls, but leave us in peace. Except you. You, Umeko Seer, Constable 3rd Class, are a True Believer. You don't come from the Black streets, but from the White. You chose the Black role, you chose to take a stand against all the things you'd been told threatened your safe, White, Districts.

"You, Cunt-stable," the Queen spat, "Show no discretion, no distinction, between the evil and the free. You are a threat. And I will not tolerate that. You will submit, you will be punished, and you will be shamed. And if you bother us again after that, you will be destroyed."

Umeko stammered. Her voice and eyeballs seemed the only parts of her she still controlled. "Are you going to kill me?"

"No, Umeko Seer, Constable 3rd Class. We are not mindless criminals. We do not execute those who merely need a lesson. Unlike your beloved Council, by the way. The immobilisation button and collar you're wearing are not street issue. They are execution-model standard. So, before the lesson begins, I am giving you a chance to beg to be stripped out of your uniform. My comrades will gladly do it for free, if you beg me now for this mercy."

"I will not beg for such a dishonour, you wicked…" Umeko stammered, trying to find a word bad enough. "You harlot!" An archaic word, for an unruly and proud woman who did not know her place in the proper order, she believed.

"You will, dear girl, you will. But you had your chance to get it for free. Now, it will cost you more." The Queen activated a control on her throne. The button grew slightly warmer at the back of Umeko's neck as the signal from the throne increased the level.

"In a few seconds, Cunt-stable, you'll find out what happens when you lose control of more basic bodily functions. When certain muscles start to relax of their own accord."

Umeko didn't understand at first. But then she felt a slow, unstoppable leak from her crotch. A warm, wet patch spreading and spreading across her thighs. Tears of helplessness and shame formed in her eyes.

She sobbed, "Please, stop!" The Queen smiled wickedly and shook her head. Instead, she turned up the controls again.

"No, oh, please, don't do this to me, I'm begging you!" Umeko felt her sphincter relax and loosen. Her bowels gurgled. All at once, she felt her own excrement oozing from her rectum and filling her regulation panties. Forcing its way through them to stain her crisp black uniform trousers.

"Please make it stop, please!" Umeko realised what she had to do. What she needed to happen.

"Please, I'm begging you. Strip me out of my uniform, I can't bear it any longer!"

"I told you there would be a price, darling. The price is this. Your hair, and your eyesight. You can have your eyesight back once we're finished with you, but you have to agree to lose it now. Do you agree?"

"Yes, your Majesty, yes! Please let me out of, of, my spoilt clothes."

An imperious gesture form the Queen, and the hands holding her instead started ripping at her clothes, tugging at her belt, taking away every last piece of technology the FAP had entrusted her with.

"Feurgh! She stinks, boss!" One of them complained.

"That's why they're called the filth, innit?" One of the male barbarians - Rebels, whatever they called themselves - retorted.

"FAP - Filth And Pestilence, right?" Cruel laughter echoed around her. They pulled away her armoured jacket and shirt, baring her soft brown tits to the room. The immo button left her a helpless rag doll to be positioned or flop as according to the Rebel's whims.

With her top half naked, and her belt gone, they shoved her back onto her front, face down on the floor. Two of them unfastened her boots and tossed them to one side before at last they worked on removing the shit-smeared clothes.

Another Rebel dragged an empty sack over. The captors dumped the trousers, boots and shirt before putting on gloves and peeling down the poop-filled panties and dropping them on top of the rest in the sack. Umeko could feel there was still filth caked to her backside, and of course, the Rebels didn't refrain from commenting on the fact.

"Nothing for it. Hose the filth down." Umeko screamed as icy cold water sprayed her arse, cunt and naked body. If she'd been able, she would have squirmed and writhed, but despite the desperate urge to escape, her limbs did nothing.

And then it was over. The most terrifying thing was that she wasn't even able to shiver. But the heat from the burning fires in the room was enough to warm her body anyway.

"Your hair belongs to me now, girl. We made a deal, remember?" The Queen smirked. "Pierre! Bring the shears!"

A Rebel with his face painted with wild colours and a permanent grin, somersaulted into the centre of the room with a long pair of scissors in one hand. Umeko cringed inwardly at how dangerous such a stunt was. Then because she realised what he would do with them.

She was proud of her long, dark, silky hair. It connected her to her family in a way she didn't with other items. It took four Rebels to hold her upright in position, but then Pierre the shearsman went to work. She snivelled, tears and snot streaming down her face, as Pierre hacked away her hair with no care or planning, just random snaps of the blades taking huge amounts in no particular pattern. He worked closer to her scalp until she had only a mess of higgledy-piggledy scraps left.

"Bring the Insta-dyes!" Four different tubes of hair colouring appeared from four different directions. The Rebels started rubbing them into different parts of Umeko's head, each pair of hands combatting the others for space and control.

When they were satisfied with their work, they wiped their hands on her body - her breasts, and her back, and her cheeks, especially. The dyes were designed to wash out of skin easily but adhere to the hair after a minute or two, but still - they weren't going to wash her off again, so she was stained anew, this time by the very symbol of what she hated.

One of them - she thought Pierre - held up a mirror and she saw herself. She looked just like one of them. A dirty, disgusting, colourful, barbarian. If her stomach had had enough muscle power left, she was sure she'd have vomited at the sight of herself like that.

"I'm sure you're glad now to be giving up your eyesight, dear Cunt-stable," crowed the Queen. "Emileya, bring the hood!"

Umeko had assumed she'd be wearing a blindfold, but the thing they fitted her into covered her whole head except for a large opening for her mouth. Her monstrously abusive haircut was at least hidden from view now. One of the Rebels fastened the hood down the back of her head, and she was sealed in.

"Bind her paws," the Queen commanded. Still limp and helpless, Umeko felt soft, feminine hands grab hold of one of her wrists and gently fold her fingers into a tight fist. Some kind of adhesive tape clung to her wrist, then she felt it wound round and round her hand until her whole hand was transformed into fingerless paw, just as the Queen had said. A different pair of hands, from a different woman, repeated the process on her other hand.

The Queen declared, "Rebel Gentlemen! Your time has come. If your cock is ready for our angel of the law, then she is ready for you. Be gentle with her, though: I think this may be her first time."

A loud roar of approval from the audience. Umeko felt the atmosphere change as men gathered close around her prone form. Some cool, slippery substance dripped into her buttcrack. With her face in the floor and her hood around her face, she could only mumble her panic.

"What's that?!"

"Oh, dear, sweet, innocent Cunt-stable. The immobilisation button relaxes your muscles, which will help, but you're still going to need lube if you want to take it as hard as my boys are going to give it to you." The words meant nothing to the young FAP officer from a privileged background.

Rough, calloused hands started to rub the substance into her body. Two thick fingers pushed and forced their way into her anus and smeared the stuff on her insides. The man added more, and another load as well.

"I think she likes me," he said. More laughter from those watching. She felt her thighs pushed apart, spreading them as far as they could go. The same rough, brutal hands pressing on her shoulders, pinning her body to the ground and crushing her tits against the floor. She wanted to struggle, to fight, to get as far away as possible from the monsters around her and on top of her, but not the slightest twitch made it as far as her body. Then the utter horror of feeling the thick, stiff, fleshy presence of the man's penis forcing itself against her rear hole.

"No, please, that's the wrong place!" She spluttered.

"Only in your limited understanding, monocop. Buttsex is the best sex, the true equaliser," her rapist snarled. He pushed his cock harder and her slack, unresisting ring muscle surrendered instantly, allowing him to slide into her slick and lubricated arsehole. She groaned in dismay, the sensation of his shaft filling her rear deeper and deeper until his hips rested on her thighs. Tears streamed down her cheeks again from the utter violation and shame. It was so uncomfortable but to her surprise it didn't hurt.

"Bet you're glad of that immo collar now, bitch?" The Rebel growled, "Can you imagine how much pain you'd be in if your guts had resisted? I wonder if I can make it hurt anyway…"

He shifted his weight back again and leaned into the fuck harder, slamming his cock fast and hard into Umeko's rectum. She screamed with shock, and yes, it did sting a bit, both inside and when his body slapped against hers. She lay helpless beneath him as he settled into his brutal rhythm, pounding her behind like an animal rutting with its mate, except his cock was buried over and over again not in a warm, soft vaginal tunnel but her poor, beaten bowels.

All at once, Umeko felt him stiffen, he gave a huge grunt, and she felt hot, stinging, sticky fluid fill her backside.

No sooner had he finished than another Rebel took his place. Each one used Umeko's butt as if it were incapable of sensation, and with each fuck, her hole grew more and more painful, sore beyond believing. Some spewed their load inside her, joking about keeping the lube levels up. Others sprayed their seed on her back or her thighs. Somewhere around the sixth or seventh, she lost count, as the men each took it in turns to abuse her. After a while, she stopped begging them to stop, eventually, only soft gasps as each thrust forced air out of her body, her tears long since used up. In amongst the men, there were smoother, harder, cocks - fake ones, worn by women. It seemed like every single Rebel had a go.

And then, at last, it was over. The cocktail of semen oozed unchecked from her torn and battered behind, her body was smeared and caked with the drying seed.

"One more thing, dear Umeko Seer, Constable 3rd Class. If you can ride my cock to my satisfaction, then we will allow you to wash your uniform and return to your duties."

"Wash my uniform?"

"Why yes. FAP Officers Code, Regulation 5 Section 2a. 'All officers are responsible for maintaining the standards of their uniform and ensuring it is fit for duty.' We could force you to leave wearing it in its current shitty state, but that would not be proper. We will let you wash it, so you can uphold the standards of the Force."

"What if I refuse?"

"You don't get to return to your duties, Cunt-stable. You get to entertain us again."

Umeko's resistance crumbled. "I'll do it."

"Bring the slut to me!" The Queen cried.

* * *

Many helpful hands lifted Umeko from her place on the floor. They raised her up to shoulder height and carried her sagging figure to the elevated throne, and dumped her at the Queen's feet. To her surprise, Umeko found that her limbs were responding again, albeit weakly. The Queen bent forwards and grabbed Umeko's wrists.

"Come up here, girl. Spread your legs and straddle my cock, let it fill your cunt until you can't take any more. Then ride me like your liberty depends on it."

The Queen pulled Umeko up by her arms. Umeko responded using the little strength she was allowed by the Queen's manipulation of the immo button to support her weight on her feet. The Queen turned her round so she faced the room again. She could still feel cum oozing from her aching rear hole. She felt the Queen rub the dong against her vulva, position her over its tip. Then lower her hold so Umeko could bend her arms.

"I won't force you, Cunt-stable. You have to force yourself onto it by your own will."

Umeko moaned. Her disgrace was complete. She flexed her knees and felt her pelvis dip, felt the cock press against her hole, nudge between her labia, probe into her waiting vagina. She sobbed - a dry gulp, since her tears were all gone. The Queen lowered her grip again, and then left Umeko to it. To inch her way down the gigantic pole, to impale herself on the shaft, stretching out her vaginal walls until they ached worse than her brutalised backside. Filling herself until at last the head bumped agonisingly against her cervix, and she knew she could go no more. Snivelling with every slight movement all the way.

The Queen releases Umeko's wrists. She instinctively covered her breasts with her arms as soon as they were free. The Queen unfastened the hood and removed it.

"I think the City deserves to see our beautiful Cunt-stable's face as she fucks herself for our benefit," the Queen declared. Umeko blinked, before she realised there were cameras all around the room. Her entire ordeal had been recorded.

It didn't matter any more. She couldn't even find the will to beg them not to.

The Queen whispered in Umeko's ear, "Fuck yourself on my giant dick, girl. Who knows, you might even like it."

Her face a picture of utter and abject defeat and surrender, Umeko did as she was told, pushing herself upwards from her quads, letting herself sink back down onto the dong before it could fully leave her.

She heard a faint buzzing sound and started to turn her head to look for it, but the Queen used one hand to make her look forwards all the time. The other held the buzzing thing and pressed it firmly to Umeko's vulva just above the painfully stretched hole and the plastic shaft penetrating it, smothering Umeko's clit with the vibrations and pressing them along the dildo's length.

Against her will, Umeko felt the pleasure growing in her abdomen, a pit of heat and desire that had no place there, not in front of so many barbarians and Rebels and despicable people. Not with her sex splayed and stretched by an obscene replica of a penis. Not like this! But the Queen was merciless. If Umeko paused for even a moment, she moved her hips to drive the cock back into her, and she knew just how to use the vibrator to stimulate the effect she wanted. With a helpless shriek, Umeko came.

* * *

They didn't unfasten her hands. She had to wash her uniform using her taped fists to grip the clothes between them, and then rub frantically against a ridged washboard. At least the detergent was modern and extremely effective, so the filth washed away easily. Bent over the tub on her knees, her abused holes remained accessible. In the time it took to wash and rinse the clothes, three or four Rebels knelt behind her, grabbed her hips and raped her as casually as if they were offering her tea and biscuits.

They immobilised her again to dress her in the uniform, then dumped her outside the Derelict building before removing the collar and button at last. One of them stood over her with her own taser the whole time, to make sure she had no illusions about what would happen if she fought back. The door closed, and she was abandoned. The street was completely dark, no lights, and the sky still some way before dawn. With her hands still taped, she staggered her way towards the safety of the barracks.

* * *

The Rebels printed posters and stuck them up everywhere across the District, a stylised image from the recording. Wherever possible, they sent out vid clips to the residents showing the various indignities Umeko had been subjected to.

It was too much for her.

After treatment for her ordeal, she asked to be dismissed from residential service.

"You're too good an officer to quit, Seer," the Inspector told her. "But we can send you out of the City."

No one said it, but the message was clear. Umeko Seer was a failure. She was going back to the wall.

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Thanks for reading! Any appreciative comments gratefully received

[Shocker]

As always with your writing, the world you built is so rich and immersive, it absolutely provides a fantastic stage for the fall of the cuntstable.