By: Awkwardnot
“Are you sure this is our only option? It seems a bit...inhumane”
A board of commissioners for the SouthEastern Prison Committee sits around a table to discuss an ever-looming issue that grows more apparent by the day. The topic of conversation: budget cuts.
Every year their budget grew smaller and smaller as the population of the prisons only continued to grow in the opposite direction. More people were coming in than going out as society was quick to sentence these wrongdoers but had a far less urgent attitude when it came to incorporating them back into the world. The second they saw “convict” pop up on background check, they were shunned, no matter if they were busted for mass murder or small-time shoplifting.
This led to countless problems, for both the inmates and the ones who tried to take care of them. With a dwindling budget, they couldn’t afford expansions, forced to fit four to six prisoners into rooms initially meant to house two. The food quality dropped as they were forced to use cheaper ingredients to feed more prisoners than they were accounting for. Salt was dropped as an ingredient entirely. Moral was low, leading to rowdy prisoners who had nothing better to do than make everyone else around them even more miserable than they already were.
As far as society was concerned, prisoners were less than human. Temporary sentences, life sentences, they didn’t care. They wanted to shove them in a box off to the side, forget about them, and then shrug their shoulders when asked how they were supposed to take care of them.
Which led to this very meeting.
“Look, we’ve already cut down on everything we can. The food is a sludge with just enough protein to get approved by the FDA. Laundry went from weekly to monthly, showers were cut back to 3 per week. We’ve fired half the guards. There’s simply nothing else we can do.”
“Has this been approved by the state yet?”
“Of course. They didn’t even read the report, they saw the title “Prisoner Reduction Experiment” and signed it without a second glance. Nothing is stopping this except for our own morality.”
The men all looked at each other. What other choice did they have? As the budget dwindled down, their own jobs would soon follow. It didn’t take anything more than a monkey in a suit to run a prison as far as the government was concerned.
“Now, this will be a completely voluntary program. Sheets will be signed, and videos documented of each prisoner who chooses to participate saying they consent to the experiment. So, there will be no skin off our backs. Now, it’s time to vote. All in favor...”
Each member hesitantly raises their hand.
“Unanimous decision. It’s settled. We’ll start with the Georgia State Prison one week from now and put out notices for the prisoners tomorrow. Meeting adjourned.”
~
Jessie rose out of his bed to the sound of murmurs and whistles outside his cell. With regulations growing more and more relaxed, prisoners were usually given free reign over what they did during the day with freedom to come and go from the yard as they pleased.
Anything the guards could do to make their jobs easier, they did it. So, Jessie took this as an opportunity to relax in his bed and read his magazines when he saw fit.
“Hey! Shut the fuck up out there!” he called out before laying back down on his bed, slipping a well-read copy of a Playboy magazine out from underneath his pillow.
He began to fondle himself through his jumpsuit as he flipped through the pages. He had to trade 5 packs of smokes for this thing, but it was well worth it.
As he flipped through the pages, he finally found the foldout he was looking for. The girl’s name was Miranda. She had a pair of D sized tits and sported a black lacy thong as she leaned back against the hood of a car, licking her cherry-colored lips as she gazed longingly at the camera. Her fire red hair was in a high ponytail, like she was ready to go down in an instant.
Why did Jessie like this particular girl so much? Because it was an exact replica of the last girl he caught.
As he turned the foldout sideways, he could explicitly remember how he found her. Just a lone college girl walking back to her dorm from a late-night class. He had been staking out the campus for weeks and noticed a couple classes ran exceptionally late on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s. She wasn’t the first he had caught this way, that was for sure. He snagged two or three girls before the alarm of disappearances had been raised. The school should have cancelled night classes entirely, but they never found the bodies and chalked it up to runaways to keep the students and their parents from panicking.
This was the school’s fatal mistake, and he planned to capitalize on it. He stalked her for a bit, donned in a black hoodie just a couple paces behind her, before he finally made his move. She had a pair of earbuds in, so she never suspected a thing.
He stabbed her in the back, covering her mouth as he shoved her into the bushes just off the sidewalk, struggling to rip off her pants as she tried to fight, beg, plead, scream for any kind of help. Oh, it was music to his ears, but there was nobody around. This particular girl had a dorm that nobody else in her night class happened to share, hence why she was chosen.
As the blood pooled out of her, her fight had finally died down enough for him to get to the good part. He could practically taste her on his lips as she resorted to pitiful moans and whimpers, barely hanging on to life itself. The last thing she would feel is his tongue licking her tears off of her cheeks as she prayed to a God she hoped would listen.
Right as he got his belt undone, a flashlight shined on the bush.
“Hey! Are you fucking kidding me? In the bush, really? Get out here, now!”
A campus security guard just so happened to walk up and was under the assumption they were a couple of no-good college kids, ready to slap their wrists for public indecency. While that had the possibility of being a fantastic cover-up story, Jessie’s blood-soaked clothes would’ve been a dead giveaway, not including the girly who was nearly dead beneath him.
So, Jessie hopped up and booked it out of there, running as fast and as far as he could.
Unfortunately, the girl was rushed to the hospital and saved just in the nick of time. And unfortunately, she got a very good look at his face.
They picked him up at his job, threw him in a lineup, and had her pick him out of all the possible suspects behind a one-way mirror. If only he could’ve seen her face one last time, seen how fearful she was at the sight of seeing me again, then maybe it would’ve made this whole sentence worth it.
But they found the bodies of the other girls once they realized they may not have been runaways, compared the prints, sentenced him to life without parole, and stuck him here. The only woman he’ll ever see again is the foldout in front of him.
Jessie is right on the edge as rolls over the scene, over and over, dripping bits of precum through his suit, when suddenly another prisoner bursts into the room, ripping him out his fantasy and practically ruining his orgasm.
“Jessie! You gotta get out here man!”
He slammed the magazine down, punching the bed above him in frustration. “God fucking damnit, I know we’re in prison, but can’t a man jerk off in fucking peace? Knock, for god’s sake. What the hell do you want?”
The prisoner raised his hands in defense. “Woah, my bad mate. But you gotta get out here. They’re making an announcement.”
“So? They make one of those every week. “We’re cutting your rations in half, no more shaving razors, we won’t replace any more jumpsuits.” What’s so special about this one?”
“Well, they’re calling it the Prisoner Reduction Experiment. And it’s a woman giving the speech.”
As a man surrounded by nothing but other men 24/7, this immediately sparked Jessie’s interest. He was a bit busy, but he reckons he can make a little time in his schedule to check her out. Maybe give him something new to ponder over.
“If she ain’t a looker, I’m coming after your ass in the showers.”
The men headed down to the main floor where many prisoners had already gathered, whooping and hollering at a woman who stood on the balcony above the common area. It wasn’t often they actually had someone come out to speak to them, choosing to announce it over the megaphone while they were all gathered for lunch instead.
From what Jessie could see, she wasn’t half bad. Jet black hair that was pulled into a tight bun, military style. She had a decent set of hips, but it was a shame as she hid it beneath an overcoat that left nothing but her long slender legs exposed. She was a tease, that was for sure. What was she hiding under there?
She peered down at the convicts over a set of square-rimmed glasses with little to no amusement.
Inmates were cat-calling and throwing out mindless comments. “How about you come down here and talk to us? Promise we’ll be real good to you.”
“Show us some fucking tits already if you’re gonna waste our time.”
Jessie could do nothing but stare up and imagine what it would be like to catch her alone on a dark night and see what she’s hiding. She didn’t look to be that big from a distance, so he could easily overpower her if it came down to it. She may look all high and mighty as she sits safely above us, but he would wipe that smug look off her face in an instant.
The woman stepped forward, tapping on the microphone as she cleared her throat to start the announcement.
“Quiet please. Inmates, this is a very important announcement, so listen up.”
“Fuck you, bitch!”
The woman makes no expression towards the delinquents and their comments, pressing forward whether they wish to listen or not.
“As you may have heard, we will soon be moving forward into an experiment that should hopefully make your quality of life better within these walls, and possibly outside as well. This experiment will be called the Prisoner Reduction Experiment, also known as PRE.”
The noise began to die down amongst the prisoners as they started to listen. Reduction? How exactly did they plan to reduce prisoners?
“Now you may be asking yourselves what the implications of PRE may be. It’s quite simple. Every week we will accept applications to take part in the program. You will undergo a questionnaire, a mental evaluation, and then undergo a trial. The trial will last for exactly one hour. If you pass this trial, then you will be immediately released, your criminal record expunged and wiped from all databases. Nobody will know you were ever a prisoner in the first place. Life sentences, deathrow, minor offenders, it will not matter.”
The crowd was frozen as their jaws hung agape in pure shock and awe. They could leave? Just like that? There had to be some kind of catch to it, for sure.
But it made a lot of sense. The walls were getting smaller here with every day that passed. Heck some of the deathrow inmates were taking matters into their own hands since they already had nothing to lose, shivving any extra roommates they feel is cramping the cell until the guards quit sending them in.
It’s only safe to assume the government has no choice but to start trying to get them out of here. But is releasing the deathrow guys really such a good idea? They would certainly just end up back up in here anyways, wouldn’t they? Making the entire experiment quite pointless.
“This trial will run for one month per prison. It is not required to participate; this is 100% voluntary. If you do not wish to participate, then nothing will be said or done. All those who do choose to join the experiment may only be granted one chance.”
A series of boos erupt from the crowd at the mention of only having one shot.
“I promise, one chance is all you will need. The trial will be individually tailored to what we feel suits you best regarding your background and mental evaluation, so some may be harder to pass than others. Sign-up sheets will be posted at the guard counter at dinner tonight. The experiment will start at 6am on Monday. The best of luck to you all.” The woman begins to walk away from the mic before remembering one last important bit.
“Oh! I almost forgot. I and I alone will be proctoring the trials personally, so take care to show some respect. I know most of you have been devoid of speaking to a woman for a while, so I thought I would give you a warning ahead of time so you can make sure you freshen up. Good luck to you all.”
As she walked away from the mic, you could just faintly hear her mumble “You’re gonna need it...”
The prisoners split into their respective groups, murmuring to each other about the announcement.
“They can’t be serious. Let us go? Just like that?”
“She did say mental evaluation, so I guess they’re only gonna keep the loons locked up then.”
“Did you hear the last part though? The trial is a one-on-one session with HER. You think I could get a piece of that ass? It’s not like there’s a snowball’s chance in hell they’ll let me out anyways.
Jessie was on that same wavelength. Why would they let him out? He’s a sociopath who takes pleasure in hearing the screams of college girls as he snuffs the life out of him. He even admitted to it during his trial once he realized he was heading straight here no matter what his lawyer said.
So should he try and make a move on the guard as well? It would give him an hour of fun he probably wouldn’t get another chance at.
Or maybe he should try to play nice, see if he can skid by the mental evaluation, and make it out of here and track her down. It hasn’t even been 6 months, so there’s a good chance she’s probably still on the same campus, stupid enough to take the same path to the same class.
Oh, he could see it now. The devastation in her eyes as she walks back to see him standing right outside her door to welcome her home. Watching her fall apart as she realizes that he somehow made it out.
She’d try to run but he’d catch her so, so easily.
It was settled. He was gonna have to be a good boy for the trial. Besides, he could just come back for the Proctor herself once it was all said and done.
Once the sheets were put out, Jessie’s name was right at the top, set to be the first subject of the experiment.
~
“Please state your name, date of birth, and social security number.”
Jessie rattled off his info as he was sat down in an office, legs cuffed to the chair. They started with basic paperwork, making him go through about 50 documents. Sign here, initial here, fingerprint here. He barely had any time to read anything as he zoomed through the process.
“Alright, look at the camera for me and read the card.”
“I, Jessie Thomas, fully consent to the Prisoner Reduction Experiment and agree to the terms that have been presented to me.”
“Great, thank you.” The camera clicks off as the man skims through the stack of papers, double-checking that everything has been signed accordingly.
“Hold on, what terms am I agreeing to?”
The man waves his hand uncaringly, “Oh, you know. The usual mumbo-jumbo. You can’t hold us liable if you suffer any injuries, you can’t speak of anything that happens in this trial to anyone based on the NDA you signed, so on and so on. You’re free to read through them if you like.” Injuries?
He slams a book down on the desk about 4 inches thick, the title reading “PRE Terms of Agreement”.
“Ah, I think I’m good. I get the gist of it.”
“Great, now you’ll be escorted out to take your psych evaluation then be admitted into the trial. Best of luck to you, sir.”
Jessie was unshackled from the chair and escorted to another room with a single computer. As he started the evaluation, he was surprised to see just how blunt some of the questions were.
“On a scale of 1-10, how quick are you to anger? On a scale of 1-10, how comfortable are you with killing? Which would you rather do, work on a car or stalk a female? Have you ever experimented with drugs before? If so, please list them below.”
What was this? An honesty test or some shit? They’re evaluating PRISONERS for christ's sake. This section seems almost pointless.
Jessie goes through the test and answers how a sane, non-sociopathic person would answer.
Finally, he gets the finished screen. He doesn’t receive a results page though.
“What, I don’t get to see my horoscope? I was hoping to find out what Disney character I relate to most.” The guard gives no reaction to his jokes, snatching him up from the chair and leading him back out of the room and towards an elevator.
“Not the talkative type, huh? Kinda rude if I’m being honest.”
The guard presses the down button, sending them to the basement of the prison complex. As the doors open, Jessie sees a stone hallway, lit by the occasional overhead light to break up the spurts of darkness. Their footsteps echo as they walk down the hall, Jessie getting shoved forward by the guard as he keeps trying to stop and peer into the windows of various rooms.
“Wow, very Shawshank Redemption down here. It’s got a nice musty smell to it. You keep the crazies down here or?”
The guard finally breaks his silence as Jessie continues to annoy him to no ends. “Buddy, you better save your breath. You’re really going to need it.”
“Ooh, scary. Is that proctor bitch that good looking then? Really gonna take my breath away?”
The guard smirks, “You could say that.”
A light emits from the window of a room just up ahead, signifying this would be where the trial takes place. As they walk in, Jessie sees that it’s an actual padded room from wall to floor.
“Aha! So this IS for the crazies then.”
Something did stand out though. There was a set of chains dangling from the ceiling with 2 cuffs on the end at about shoulder height. This threw Jessie off severely as he had not a single clue what this could be for. Weren’t normal handcuffs enough?
“Hey, uh. What exactly is the trial?”
“Kneel.” Before Jessie could comply, the guard kicked the back of his legs, dropping him to the floor. Raising his arms, he slipped the new set of cuffs onto his wrists, tightening them to an uncomfortable point, before removing the original ones.
“Hey! Shit, you ain’t gotta be so rough buddy. Just tell me what the fuck the trial is!”
The guard dusted his hands of the talkative prisoner, headed towards the door before pausing, deciding maybe he could spill just a little info.
“You ever heard of those anthro freaks?” Jessie furrowed his brow in confusion. How does that play into effect?
“The ones with the animal tails? Yeah, I’ve seen them a time or two. Think there was some squirrel chick at this grocery store I used to go to. Freaks of nature from some government experiments, if I remember correctly.”
“You got it. They usually only show by the tails, completely humanlike otherwise, but they have a lot of the same traits and physical capabilities as the animal they acquired. Some more extreme than others.”
“Okay, so what? You’re saying my proctor is one of those anthros? Which kind?”
The guard can’t help but let out a hearty laugh as he walks out, closing the door behind him. “Let’s just say, I hope you can hold your breath. Because it’s gonna be a long hour.”
The door shuts, leaving Jessie even more confused than before. Anthros? Holding his breath? What the fuck was this supposed to be? What the hell were they going to do to him? Why is everyone being so damn cryptic?
He didn’t have to wait too long for an answer, as the Proctor soon walked into the door, alone as promised.
“Goodmorning Mr. Thomas, how are we doing today?”
“Cut the shit, what the fuck are you?”
The Proctor raises her eyebrows in surprise. So early in the morning and he was already this feisty.
“I do believe I told you prisoners to learn a little respect over the weekend. You’re talking to a lady, you know.”
“Well apparently, I’m talking to a freak. So how about you cut the shit and just tell me the trial already.”
“So, so eager. Got someone you want to see when you get out? Just itching to get it over with? Is the anticipation just eating you up?” She began to pace around him, eyeing him up and down like she was inspecting nothing more than a cow being prepared for the slaughterhouse.
“Maybe you’re eager to get back to that redhead? Finish the job?”
Jessie fell silent. Just as he thought, they would know his intentions from the get-go, no matter what he answered on the stupid evaluation. Did that mean they had no intention of letting him go as well? Surely, they wouldn’t let someone go knowing good and well he was going to walk right out those doors and go on a homicidal rampage.
“Mm, thought so. Honestly, I don’t care what you do if you make it out. Key word there is IF.”
She stopped pacing and paused in front of him, slipping a finger under his chin to tilt his eyes up to her own. They were an emerald green color, but he saw more than that within her gaze. Malice, sadism, and pleasure. Things he used to see in his own eyes as he gazed into the mirror before setting out on one of his hunts.
As terrifying as she seemed, he had to admit, she was a beautiful woman now that he saw her up close and personal.
Her raven black hair, her sharp features, those damn eyes. He hated it, but his cock actually stirred a bit in his pants as she traced her fingernails along the outline of his face. She wasn’t his usual taste, a bit more mature than he generally preferred, but he could make an exception.
She pulled away, wiping her hand on her clothes as if to say she was done messing around with him. But it was only the beginning.
“Now, about the trial. It’s quite simple. You merely have to survive an hour here with me. Make it, and you’re free.”
This did little to nothing to help clear Jessie’s confusion. Survive an hour? What does she mean survive? What the hell was she going to do to him? Better yet, what the fuck was she?!
The Proctor unbuttoned the front of her overcoat, letting in fall to the floor behind her to expose her body. Jessie’s jaw about hit the floor when he saw the body she kept underneath that thing. No wonder she kept that coat on. The prisoners would’ve had a riot trying to get to her on the balcony if they saw this.
Her white blouse was buttoned tightly up the middle and back, a few buttons down from the top undone to show off a generous amount of cleavage. Her black pants hugged her hips tightly, riding low on her waist. Her black heels made her legs look even more toned. Her whole ensemble screamed slutty librarian halloween costume.
What exactly was the challenge? Try not to jizz his pants for an hour? She’d probably win that one.
She opened her blouse up fully, revealing that there was no bra holding her boobs in place. They were more than a handful, jiggling like waterballoons as she stepped forward, her nipples already hard. He tried to look away but couldn't.
She must have been cold like that, the cushions in the room doing nothing to help insulate the barren stone basement floor, but it didn't look like that was a factor.
As she leaned closer towards him, he could feel the pure heat that seemed to radiate off her skin. She was like a furnace.
“Take a good look, it’s about all you can do anyways.”
And look he did, practically slobbering at all the meat her body had. Her luscious hips, her thick thighs he wanted to lose himself between. Jessie was having a hard time trying to find a negative here.
There were no tools in the room, so she obviously couldn’t torture him or hurt him. He still wasn’t getting it.
That is, until he noticed a brief flicker behind her. A flash of black fur.
Was he seeing things? No, it happened again.
The Proctor noticed his eyes drifting behind her, smirking as she watched the realization slowly settle in. The way his eyes slowly turned from lust to fear. Oh, this was her favorite part.
“Is that a...tail?”
“Mmhm.”
“W-What are you?”
She did nothing but grin sadistically down at him as she stood up straight again.
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”
She slightly turns to the side, bringing her bushy tail around and curling it into an S. Black fur, with a solid white stripe down the center.
“S-Skunk. You’re a skunk.”
“Bingo, you’ve finally caught on. Today’s trial...”
“Survive my gas.”
~
“S-Skunk. You’re one of those skunk freaks!”
The Proctor smirked at the man held in chains that was knelt down on the floor in front of her.
“Bingo, now you got it. Starting to figure out the trial now?” She began to pace around him once more, basking in Jessie’s newfound fear. “Like I said, you only have to last an hour. One hour and you’re scotch free, headed home to tear apart any girl you desire till you end up right back here where you belong.”
“If you know that’s what I’m gonna do, then why even bother? Why am I even allowed in this trial?”
The Proctor appeared in front of him again, taking his face in both her hands, pressing him nose to nose with herself. “Exactly! Now you’re getting it! Why? Why are the most dangerous criminals of the century allowed to take place in such a thing? Well, that’s where my job comes in, Jessie.”
“I am your judge, jury, and executioner. I alone get to decide the fate of the scum of the Earth and decide if they are truly worthy of being incorporated back into society. Lot of power for some experimental freak from a lab, huh?”
Jessie was trying to wrap his head around the words she was saying. Judge, jury, and executioner?
She wasn’t planning on killing him...was she?
Going at the hands of a woman wasn’t the worst thought in the world, but she wasn’t a woman. She wasn’t even human as far as he was concerned. She was a beast, a monster!
She was something he didn’t account for, and that’s what scared him the most. Usually, he was cold and calculated, taking great pleasure in the planning portion of his schemes and murders. Learn their schedule, map their routes, watch to see if they usually stop by the vending machine or walk with earbuds in.
Obviously, he couldn’t do that in preparation for this from the confinement of his cell. But he could at least prepare himself mentally. He thought the psych evaluation would play a bigger part of the trial but looking at his situation, how much she knows about him already, Jessie is right to believe that it may have simply been a formality, something to add to their paperwork later on while never even giving a second glance.
The trial was going to be an unknown factor, but he was under the assumption it would be much like a parole hearing. Not a freaking survival test and the hands of a SKUNK.
“Alright, that should be enough monologuing for now. I’ll be happy to tell you anything you want as we get started. If you’re able to speak, that is.” She drops his face from her hands, walking back to pick her coat up off the ground. As she bends over, Jessie’s natural male instincts couldn’t force him to tear his eyes away from her rearend. It wasn’t overly massive, but it had a nice perk to it. Enough to fill both his hands.
But the tail that happily swished back and forth over it kept distracting him, taking the point of his focus. As his eyes followed the white stripe down the center of her tail, he could feel the chills run down his spine in tandem. He had only heard stories about the skunk anthros, an experimental case where they tried to create a bioweapon for military usage but was essentially banned by the Geneva Convention.
So few people had seen them in real life they were often chalked up to being nothing more than a myth. But here she was, standing directly in front of him.
He tugged a bit at the chains, trying to test their durability, but there was no give. He could sway around the room in a pendulum fashion, but that wouldn’t help in escaping.
Maybe he could stand up and get a chain around her throat when she got close enough? She’s gotta have a key on her somewhere, right?
Jessie went through plan after plan in his head, trying to figure out a way out of here before he had to experience the atrocities of the Proctor. But it was too late. His thought process was interrupted by a sharp, pungent smell that stabbed his nostrils out of nowhere.
“Oh my fucking-” He doubled over as much as his arms chained above his head would allow, retching loudly. What the hell was that? Was that HER?
He tried to speak, but he couldn’t make it past his coughing fit to form a coherent sentence. That scent was...was...indescribable. As he took another breath, it was like he started all over again, loudly retching as he fought the urge not to puke all over himself.
As her tail swished back and forth it proceeded to fan over a stench that seemed like it couldn’t have came from anywhere except a skunk.
“Whoops, my bad. One slipped out before I started the timer. Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
The Proctor slipped a timer out of her coat pocket and set it to one hour before hitting start, setting it down on the floor for Jessie to watch the seconds tick by. The trial has officially begun.
“Now, how about one a bit more purposeful?”
“N-No...Please...” But his pleas fell on deaf ears as the Proctor turned around and pointed her ass towards his face. Jessie felt as if he was looking down the barrel of a loaded gun as grunted, taking the safety off and preparing to fire. Deep within the black confinements of her pants he heard a rumble, then a sharp hiss as another course of gas began to spill out, slapping him in the face with a hot, humid stream of air.
Jessie held his breath as the cloud enveloped him. He could feel its sickly warm particles sticking to the skin of his cheeks, coating his hair with a fine grease. He wasn’t even breathing but he could feel it seep its way into his nostrils, layering itself along his nose hairs as it sat there and waited for him to take that sniff they both knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid.
“You know, it’s quite pointless to hold your breath. The room is airtight. I had the vents closed off, a seal placed around the door frame, and any lingering gaps filled. There is absolutely nowhere else for the gas to go.” She scooted back a litte more, closing the 2-foot gap between his face and her ass and narrowing it down to a couple inches.
“Well, nowhere to go besides your lungs, that is.”
The Proctor grunts, pushing another SBD out and letting it coat his airways. Still, Jessie continued holding his breath as he prayed for an out. She noticed how unsatisfying his struggles were behind her and turned around, letting her nails dig into his cheeks as she brought him nose to nose once more.
“Oh? Holding your breath still? Pathetic, fucking pathetic. Are you scared of a little gas? Is the big bad murderer that intentionally preys on those weaker than him scared of a fart? Listen here, I’m going to turn around, count to 3, and release one more. If I don’t hear you sniffing, then I swear to god I’m going to pause the timer, go back home, get my ring gag, bring it here, shove it in your mouth, and see how well you can SWALLOW them. How does that sound?”
Jessie was on the edge of his last breath anyways; he couldn’t hold it any longer even if he wanted to. So, he simply nodded in agreement. Satisfied, she turned back around and presented her ass to the prisoner once more.
“On three. One...two...three!”
Jessie caved and took a massive sniff of her ass that lingered just on the tip of his nose. Everything that had been precoated to his airways shot down to his lungs, corrupting every square inch that it touched on the way down.
The smell was horrible, like she had opened a freezer of rotten meat that got turned off weeks ago and bagged the smell just to shoot it out of her ass. It was single-handedly the worst thing he had ever smelt in his entire life.
And she didn’t even fart that time.
The Proctor listened to his pained groans as he sniffed her leftover gas from before, smiling in pleasure as she let him slowly get acclimated to her scent. “There you go, keep sniffing. I got a real one loaded up for you in juuuust a...”
She lifted a leg and pushed, hitting Jessie square in the face like a shotgun blast with a powerful short fart mid sniff. It caught him off guard, causing him to inhale the fresh odor before he could tell his body to stop. The scent of boiled rotten cabbage was blasted down his airways, coating his trachea with a vile green substance as he coughed and gagged to try and purge it from his body.
Jessie did the only logical thing he could think to do, and that was try to get away. He jumped backwards onto his feet and ran as far back as his chains would allow him, which was only a foot or two.
But he stood up, raising his leg defensively to try and fend off his captor with a frontal kick if she tried to approach him.
“B-Back! Get back!” The Proctor turned around with a look of amusement stricken across her face.
“Oh? You certainly won’t be passing the trial that way, Jessie. Get back on the floor before I make you.”
“No! That’s it! I give up. I forfeit. Take me out of the trial, NOW.” Jessie has had enough. He could care less if he ever got out, this was inhumane. Physical torture was one thing, but this was simply disgusting. To try and destroy him from the inside out with the vile secretions of her ass? He wasn’t having it.
As he tried to forfeit his rights to the trial, the Proctor did nothing but laugh. She cackled maniacally, her shrill laughter filling his ears, filling him with a deep sense of dread. What was so funny? He quit, that should be the end of it.
“I don’t think you understand. I left a couple little clues in my words, but I guess I gotta spell it out for you. To put it simple, you don’t get to quit.”
“W-What do you mean? I chose to participate; I should get to decide if I forfeit.” The Proctor rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms and shook her head. He was the first subject, so annoying as it was it was only right to explain what was going on to him.
“No no no. That’s not how this works. See, the trial is that you must survive an hour. If you would’ve read the terms and conditions, despite how overwhelming big that book may have seemed, the very first page said “I understand that there will be no forfeiture once I start the trial. I understand that the prison will not be held liable in the cause of my death.” and so on and so on. We put all the important bits up front for your ease of reading. The rest is just lawyer mumbo jumbo. Did they forget to mention that to you?”
“Yeah...yeah they did.”
She snapped her fingers, “Damn, I’ll have to get on them about that next time. Shame on them. But you already signed the paperwork, and you’ve already started the trial, so there’s nothing that can be done now. The only one who has the power to stop it is me. And I’m not done playing with you yet.”
The Proctor paced around the outskirts of the room as she explained everything he missed. Jessie lcould do nothing but look down at the floor as he realized the true purpose of the trial, the Prisoner Reduction Experiment. It was in the name itself.
His goal wasn’t to last an hour, it was to survive. And if he didn’t survive...
“Looks like you finally figured it out. Our goal is to reduce the prison population. Whether you live or not, well, that’s at the backend of our priorities. Now, on your KNEES!” The Proctor kicked his legs from behind, dropping him to the ground as he swung back into the middle of the room with his hands above his head once more.
She snatched his hair, yanking it backwards, forcing him to look straight up at the ceiling.
“Since you wanna jump around like a jackrabbit, let’s add a little weight to the mix.”
Jessie’s eyes widened in horror as she proceeded to turn around, putting her ass on display directly above him. Any other situation this might have been slightly hot, but as her tail twitched anxiously, the only thing on his mind was how absolutely revolting this was about to smell.
His nose made contact with the fabric of her pants, and his mouth was to follow. Soon, she covered his entire face from chin to eyes with her ass. Even if he wanted to breathe, he couldn’t. She grabbed the chains and set her full weight back onto his face, kicking her legs up off the ground.
“I haven’t been on a swing since I was a kid! Don’t break on me.” She swung back and forth, Jessie’s legs scraping along the ground as his body was forced to follow. As much fun as she was having, he was having the direct opposite. As her weight settled over his face, the only thing supporting her was his arms shackled to the ceiling.
With each swing, Jessie screamed in pain. He felt like his arms were going to pop out of socket at any moment as she mindlessly played him with him with little to no qualms about possibly breaking her newfound toy.
On top of that, he couldn’t breathe. Her weight left not a single inch of space between his airways and the outside world, keeping them forcibly closed against her ass. He tried to kick along the ground to catch some kind of leverage to knock her off, but all he did was swing her higher as she squealed in delight.
As her swinging slowly came to a stop, Jessie continued to beg and plead, the sounds of his struggles being muffled and lost within her flesh.
The Proctor finally placed her feet back on the ground. She scooted back enough to see his eyes from between her thighs, but not enough to free his airways just yet.
She bit her lip as she looked down at his eyes and saw the fear and desperation she craved. He was truly suffering down there, all because of her. His eyes began to bulge as he tried to hold on to that last ounce of air.
It would be so easy to just sit here and watch the light slowly fade away as his eyes enter a state of panic as he realizes she wouldn’t be getting back up, that his air was fully depleted, and he had no chance of refilling it. He would feel his body begin to convulse as he desperately fought and pleaded until he had nothing left, knowing he was about to die as she sneered down at how pathetic he was until his eyes finally glazed over as he resorted to nothing more than sporadic twitches, only for those to subside as well as she rested atop his face a little longer for good measure.
But that was too easy. Too humane for scum like him.
No, we got an hour on the clock, and she plans on making use of as much of it as she can.
“Oh? What’s wrong? Does someone need a little air?”
Jessie frantically nodded his head as much as her weight allowed.
“Mm, air is pretty important. But how important is it? Would you be willing to accept any air?”
Once more, he frantically shook his head yes. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, so he knew he had to take what he was given.
“Wow, desperate much? No worries, I’ll give you a little air. It may be a little tainted though...”
The Proctor lifted herself up just the slightest bit, barely enough to free his nose. Jessie greedily began to sniff, unable to control the amount his body tried to take in.
The gas trapped within the fabric of her pants began to flood his airways, corrupting his brain as he tried to stop himself from letting it enter his body, but it was no use. His body needed air, and the methane-stained pants were all that was available. So, he was gonna take, and take, and take.
“Oh? You got used to it a little quick, didn’t you?”
His gags subsided as his body actually did become a little acclimated to her stench. It didn’t have time to complain as he didn’t know when his next breath would be his last. It did nothing to make it better though, as he still found an extreme displeasure in the scent itself, no matter if his lungs felt they were capable of handling it or not.
“Well, I guess we can go ahead and kick it up another notch then, huh?”
From beneath her, Jessie heard a low gurgle slowly work its way down her stomach, like the rumble of a train as it approaches through a dark tunnel, edging closer and closer until it finally hits him.
A bubbly fart was let loose across his face as he took it at point blank range. Jessie began to tear up as he felt the hot gas spread throughout the seat of her pants, coating his entire face equally. The heat felt like it was physically burning his skin as he jerked and fought to try and free his face from this hellscape.
“Go on, sniff. You said you would be willing to accept any air. You’re not being a little bitch about it now, are you?”
He cried out in anguish as he took the smallest, most hesitant sniff and was still stabbed straight in the nostrils by her scent. He screamed and pleaded for help from anyone who was capable of listening as each sniff sent him into another frantic spiral until he resorted to holding his breath again.
As he began to hold his breath again, his struggles seemed to lessen as he focused everything he had on not breathing. The Proctor was growing increasingly annoyed by his persistence to avoid smelling her fumes.
“Look, you’re starting to piss me off. I want SNIFFS. Loud, audible, deep sniffs. If I can’t fucking hear you sniff, then we’re going to have a problem. Now sniff my gas, before I take my pants off, shove them in your mouth, and form a direct tunnel between your nostrils and my asshole.”
He looked up into her eyes as he searched for a bluff, a jest, anything but all he saw was just how serious she was being. She would do it, there was nothing stopping her and she had no reason not to. This was her trial, and she was free to do as she pleased.
His best chance at surviving was complying. Maybe if he did what he was told, he might make it through this partially scathed. She’s obviously having fun with this, so if he lets her have her fun, maybe it would give her less reason to go too far.
Jessie decided that his best chance at survival was to piss her off as little as possible.
Comply and survive.
So, he closed his eyes, took a mental breath as he tried to clear his head of just how much this was gonna hurt, and took a deep sniff of her gas.
He got caught up mid-breath as the scent of stale mildewed laundry and spoiled milk invaded his lungs. His body instinctively tried to fight it off, setting off every safety sensor it has to tell Jessie that this is a horrible idea, that he’s gonna cause some permanent damage if he keeps going, but he had no choice but to ignore the warning lights and forced himself to finish out the sniff.
He groaned in pain as his eyes rolled back in his head, but he pressed forward and sniffed one more time. The gas seemed to dissipate the slightest bit with each inhale, making the job just a tad bit more tolerable with each breath.
As he grew more acclimated to the scent he thought “Huh, this isn’t that bad. I just have to smell some really bad farts and I can make it out of here?
That’s where he was wrong, though...
The Proctor noticed his struggles seemed to lessen with each sniff, going from jerks and screams to slightly annoyed groans. She would toss in another fart and knock him back a couple of steps, but he would get used to it pretty quick. Granted, she wasn’t trying to kill the guy yet, she was just having a little harmless fun. But where’s the fun if there’s no struggle?
She glanced at the clock. It had been about 30 minutes so far. Damn, already? This was the allotted time she gave herself to toy with her victims, so she was gonna have to get serious for the rest of the duration of the trial. At the end of the day, she does still have a job to do.
She farted one more time, catching him mid-sniff, sending him into a surprised gagging fit, before standing up, freeing him from his confinement.
“Well, that was fun. But looks like it’s back to business.”
“W-What? Business? What do you mean?” The trial had already started, no? Was she not being serious this entire time?
“Oh, you poor thing. You didn’t think that was the extent of what I could do, did you? That was nothing more than a little teasing.”
“I’m sorry, teasing? You call that teasing? That was the nastiest shit I’ve ever experienced!”
She clicked her tongue, correcting him, “That you’ve experienced so far. Those were just harmless little farts. I’m gonna show you what real gas is like.” The Proctor disappeared behind him out of eyesight before reappearing in front of him.
Completely naked.
“Now, this was a lot of fun, but I do have a job to do with other inmates to get to, so let’s try to make this quick. Here’s what’s gonna happen. Your nose is going to go in my bare ass. You’re going to fight and struggle and pretend like you have a chance, then resort to begging and pleading for your life, then let my gas slowly drift you into a nice little sleep that you won’t be waking up from. Then I move on to the next prisoner and do this all over again. Quite a fun job, really. You should’ve seen the guy they had me test this out on in the interview.”
“Wait, why are you talking like I don’t have a chance at surviving?” Was this a one-sided battle or was she just extremely confident in her skills?
“Silly, silly man,” she cooed down at him, lifting his chin with a single finger. Her words dripped like venom as she explained what he already knew deep down.
“You never had a chance. I told you, I’m the judge, jury, and executioner. I decided whether or not you were going to walk out of here alive the second you put your name on that paper. You honestly think someone like you deserves to walk those streets freely? You don’t even deserve to live within these walls! Countless dollars are spent keeping you alive and for what? So you can “rot and suffer” here as repentance for your crimes, jerking off to playboys and trading ramen cups? No, this is the proper sentencing. This is what you deserve.”
She walks behind him, grabbing his head and yanking it back to face the ceiling once more, forcing him to watch as she steps over his face, facing his feet this time as she scissors his head between her thighs to hold him in place.
“Now, I sentence you to death.”
“Wait, please! Don’t do this! I-I'll change! I’ll go back to my cell, I won’t bother anyone! I’ll be a model prisoner just don’t do this! Spare me!” Tears streamed down Jessie’s cheeks as he begged and pleaded for her mercy.
“Silly, the begging and pleading comes AFTER the fighting. Does anyone ever listen to me? But do tell me this. Out of all those girls you killed, which one did you show mercy to?”
“W-What?” Jessie was caught off guard from the question.
The Proctor removed him from her thighs so she could look him in the eyes one last time. “I said, out of all those girls you stalked, raped, and murdered, how many did YOU spare? How many did you show mercy to as they begged and pleaded for their lives, knowing you were going to be the last thing they ever saw as they faded out of existence?”
“Well...” None. The answer was none. The only one he spared was the one he had to let go because he got caught. Because someone happened to walk by and save her.
“We both know the answer to that question, so I think we both know the end result here.”
She knelt down by his ear and whispered one last bit to leave him with. “The last thing you’ll see on this Earth is my bare, puckering asshole as it fills your body with a gas that will make you beg for Death to come as quick as he can. And even that is too merciful for scum like you. Beg, plead, cry, do anything you wish but nobody can save you.”
She leans back up and spits in his face as one last act to show him the kind of trash she thinks he is before stepping back over him, squeezing his head between her thighs for the last time.
She reaches back, spreading her cheeks, and settles her weight back onto his face as she traps him, locking him into his new temporary cell. He watched in absolute horror as her bare greasy asshole slowly approached his nose, before pushing the tip of it back, making sure to dock in place directly against his wide-open nostrils, like forming a direct tube between her bowels and his lungs with little to no outside interference.
His first sniff from the epicenter of her fumes smelled like straight sulfur, sending a sharp pain down his airways with each breath as he let loose a high pitched scream, causing him to try and jerk his head free to break the seal but all she had to do was squeeze her thighs around his neck to hold him in place. He whimpered in pain as he realized how utterly fucked he was.
He would take it all back, he would change, he would do ANYTHING to get out of this mess. But it was far, far too late to repent for his past actions.
He heard the gurgle of her sentencing make its way down from her stomach once more. This was it, it was all over.
The Proctor freed his mouth one last time. “Any last words?”
He said the only thing he could think of as he truly repented in the face of Death itself. “I-I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry.”
“If only sorry could bring them back.” She dropped her weight back down, resealed his nose against her anus, and pushed with everything she had, not letting anything get held back as she called upon her true nature as a skunk. The feature she was created for in the first place.
To add insult to injury, she wrapped her tail around his head, making sure it was completely airtight and there wasn’t a chance of any fresh air making it in, or any tainted air making it out.
She let a stream of white-hot gas go, making nothing more than a sharp hissing sound like a leak in a canister of gas as it forced its way out.
Jessie didn’t even need to breathe. Her gas did it for him as it came out with such an extreme amount of power that it practically forced its way down into his lungs, expanding them as they forced him to breathe against his will.
Jessie was so taken aback by the sheer amount of pain that he couldn’t even muster a scream, a beg, a plead, nothing. It was as if he was being pepper sprayed with bear mace in each individual nostril it burned so bad. Was there even a scent to it, or was it so unbearable his brain couldn’t process an adjective to associate it with? Can the flames of hell be described as a scent?
Without the freakish nature of a government experiment added on top of its natural ability, a skunk's scent could already be described as unbearable, overwhelming, like rotten eggs left in a barrel for you to stumble across on a very unfortunate day in the summer heat. The scent left a mark on anyone unfortunate to be on the receiving end that could linger for weeks, able to be smelt up to a mile away.
Jessie sat here and wished that was the extent of what he was experiencing, that his clothes were just being tainted by a repulsive smell, but the Proctor was in a completely different league. As she grunted, another bout of gas was sent down his nostrils, the sulfuric particles tearing his insides apart as his body screamed at him, saying “Air! This isn’t air! Get me the fuck of here!”
She took a sniff of the air and was genuinely surprised at how little she smelt of her gas.
“Must have made a pretty tight seal down there, huh? How you doing Jessie? Holding out?”
He couldn’t answer. Her words sounded like they were coming from the far end of a tunnel. He only grew more and more lightheaded, the light that filtered through her the fur of her tail above him swirling around as he peered up from between her ass cheeks. He hadn’t had a single breath of air in…he lost count. His entire body was filled with nothing but the fires of her gas. He didn’t know who he was, what was happening, he just prayed for the end.
Was this it? Was it almost over?
He groggily groaned in response to her question.
“Hmm, still kicking? Damn, you’re pretty tough, I’ll give you that. But I know what will do it for you.”
The Proctor hops off of his face, prolonging his suffering just a bit longer.
“K-Kill me. J-Just end it a-already.” Jessie knew he wasn’t coming out of this alive, so he avidly begged for a swifter death.
“Oh, I will, don’t worry. Just a quick position change is all.”
She turned around and slid him right back into place beneath her, yanking on his hair till she had him just right. His eyes popped up between her thighs, and his open mouth settled against her asshole.
“If the smell didn’t put you out of your misery, then the taste certainly will.”
She settled her weight down and pressed her puckered rosebud against his open awaiting mouth.
“Why don’t you give it a lick or two?”
Jessie groaned once more, lacking the mental capacity to process her request. Not that he would’ve willingly done that in the first place.
“No? Shame, maybe I can make the next guy think I’ll spare him if he eats my ass or something. Anyways, dinner is served.”
Her weight settled on his mouth, trapping it open as she grunted. A brassy fart echoed within his mouth like she was trying to use it as a toilet, expanding his cheeks to their fullest extent. The gas particles that coated his tongue were no better than when they plagued his nose. His tastebuds began to scream in pain as she let loose another burst of gas, filling his mouth with incomprehensible horrors.
He tried to scream out, but his throat was so raw it was nothing more than a raspy groan similar to that of a smoker, lacking any volume to make it past the flesh of her asscheeks.
Jessie couldn’t see straight anymore. As he looked up at the Proctor and pleaded for mercy with his eyes, he was seeing double, no triple, as the light above slowly grew in intensity.
She reached down and grabbed his hair, yanking his head upwards into her thighs so she could see the full extent of his suffering as she brought this trial to a close. Her stomach gurgled loudly, signaling her finisher was ready for him.
Jessie nodded his head no as he heard it, barely hanging onto this world as it is. He knew this would be the end. Mercy, please have mercy. Drop him back in his cell to rot, throw him in solitary, the hole, anything but this, please.
“Sweet dreams, Jessie.”
One last push, and the flood gates had been opened. A steady stream began to pour out into his airways, filling his entire body with the dense gas that worked its way through his mouth, his nostrils, his lungs, his stomach, every square inch of his insides was being coated with the liquid spray of her ass. As he tried to breathe, he felt like he was drowning as he tried to jerk his head, beg, scream, anything. 10 seconds had passed, and the gas had no end in sight. It burned so bad his body eventually fell into shock and replaced it with numbness.
Finally, just like she said, he began to drift further into that lightheaded state. He felt like he was falling down, further and further as the light grew brighter and brighter. His body functions began to shut down one by one until finally, the world faded into black.
The Proctor watched in amusement as his eyes widened in horror, tears streaming out as he silently screamed out, beging for it all to end. Around the 30 second mark of her gas being all he could taste and breathe, his eyes took on a faraway look as they slowly began to glaze over, granting him his wish. What did he see as he began to cross the border of our world. Who cares, as long as scum like him didn’t reside her any longer.
Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
This was exactly what he deserved, to go out begging and pleading for his pathetic life. Pretty ironic, isn’t it?
As she looked over at the timer, she saw they still had a good 15 minutes left on the clock. He wasn’t even close to making it. He wouldn’t have made it 20 minutes in if she was serious from the get-go. Oh well.
His body finally stopped twitching, but she wasn’t quite ready to go back to the office quite yet, he made a far better chair anyways. Plus, she has to really make sure he’s gone.
She crosses one leg over the other, sealing the rest of his face beneath her thighs. This truly was a dream job. How many inmates had signed up for the experiment? There were one or two hundred, easily. If she only had a month to handle this, then that meant she could do this up to ten times a day!
She threw her head back, grabbing the chains and swinging on the passed prisoner as she giggled maniacally. This was great! Judge, jury, and executioner. All for her own pleasure.
Much to her surprise, the man below her made a slight moan, seemingly still hanging on by a very thin thread to this world.
“Oh? Still kicking?”
She releases another burst of gas, sending him back to the other side.
“I thought I told you, I decided whether you weren’t walking out of here alive the second you wrote your name down on that paper.”
If he wanted to hang around another 15 minutes to suffer, who was she to stop him?
She released anything her stomach had left over, one after the other, bomb after bomb, not even bothering to wait and see his response or check if he was still there after each one. The only reason she bothered stopping at all was because the timer had gone off, signaling that her hour was up.
“Damn, already?”
The Proctor hopped off the man’s body, stretching as she stood up. Did she go too far? Nah, there’s no such thing as too far here.
His face was trapped in a permanent fixture of disgust and horror, not an ounce of peace in sight, even in passing. Just as it should be.
She picked her clothes up and threw them back on just as the cleanup crew arrived, opening the door. One of the younger guys took a sniff of the air and promptly passed out onto the floor, forgetting to don his gasmask before entering the room.
“Jesus, professional much?” The Proctor scooted past the crew as she tied her coat back up, heading to her office to fuel up before her next trial. A bowl of chili should get her going again.
Which inmate was up next, the serial killer or the drunk driver with 3 DUIs that killed that family?
Oh, what does it matter?
Their sentences will be served all the same.