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EO 9066
Author: Closet Fetishist
Written: January 12th, 2017
The bell rings across the campus as the last of the classroom doors shut and a hushed silence fills the air.
The principal, Ms. Kelton, sorts through paperwork on her desk when there's a distinct ring on her cell phone; she grabs it.
It's an Emergency Alert that simply reads:
EO 9066
-O
Ms. Kelton looks up from her phone with a knowing smile as her hand goes for the intercom mic.
"Attention all male students, I repeat, all male students, report to the basement of the school for a special orientation. That is all."
Bemused, the male students exchange a glance and seem excited for this distraction from the mundane school day. And throughout the campus, the male population, a few thousand, trudged down into the basement of the school as the teachers covertly watched from their rooms, licking their lips like wolves ready to pounce as the boys passed by their class windows.
Elsewhere, Ms. Lewis strolls through the aisles at the grocery store, her son walks with her; home "sick" from school today by chance but forced to follow in tow on a few errands. The tradeoff seemed worthwhile to him.
Her phone goes off with a distinctive ring; she looks down at the text and then to her son who seems to understand immediately the danger in her smirk. He bolts to the end of the aisle, near the checkout lines.
He sees a cashier at his station, he gives a friendly smile to the boy in the one second before a woman he never saw approaching behind him grabs him by the hair, pulling him down to his knees with ease.
The boy watches, horrified, as the woman positions herself into sitting on the cashier's face like a stool before farting loud and proud with an unholy look of relief on her face as she makes eyes with the boy. She grins an almost demonic grin; the boy shudders and sprints towards the exit, finding a fairly easy path to the doors through all the pandemonium in the store.
He looks back for one moment, seeing the terrible scene play out. As he turns again, his face is directly met with a stiff arm of another woman who clotheslines him down to the floor. She picks him up and holds him as Ms. Lewis walks up.
"Whew, thank you so much," Ms. Lewis says to the woman, a bit out of breath.
"No problem," the woman replies, roughly pushing Ms. Lewis' son back to her.
The woman starts to walk away, into the store; that's when Ms. Lewis noticed the woman's own son belted against her ass, his knees struggling to keep up with his mother's pace.
"Love your set up," Ms. Lewis calls out to her sincerely, referencing the woman's bondage of her son.
"Oh, thank you so much! Did you hear that, David? That woman complimented us," she said as she continued walking, highlighting her joy with a long, loud fart that the whole store must have heard; but the real torture had to have been for David who screamed audibly as the gas hit him and his mother just laughed, as did a few women around her.
Ms. Lewis turns her face back sternly to her son, "Did you really think you'd get away from me?" She tightens her grip on his shoulder and pulls him over to a meat case where she shoves him against the cold display, his neck resting painfully against the chrome edge of the case.
She turns, her legs on either side of her son's body as she sits her ass on his face.
"Oh am I going to enjoy this!"
BRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrraaaauuuuuuppppppp!
She blasts a long, nasty emission straight up her son's nostrils as he bucks and kicks in a vain attempt at freedom; he's forced to inhale the shit particles of his mother's backside as she laughs at his plight and grinds her butt against his face.
"Ahhhh, and you didn't even thank that woman, did you? I guess I really failed at teaching you how to properly behave with females. But we've got plenty of time..."
PRRRrrrraaaapppp!
In a room with faded pink paint on the walls, with strategically placed posters for Joy Division, The Cure, and some obscure bands you'll never hear of covering up the past as best they can, a girl with a purple streak in her otherwise bleached blonde hair softly taps to a St Vincent song as she brushes in the mirror.
A distinctive ring on her cell phone goes off. She picks it up, reading the message, "Hey dad?" An almost inaudible affirmation is heard from downstairs.
She smirks, "Can you come in here for a second?"
In a drab conference room, the CEO rehashes numbers on an already circulated graph to an uninterested room. A distinctive ring echoes repeatedly for each of the female executives present in the room.
The CEO turns to the Senior VP, "Can that wait?"
She stands, authoritatively, "Actually, no it can't." She grabs him and slams his face against the conference table. The other women in the room act in kind, grabbing the closest man and forcing his face into their asses one way or another; the whole office was, in fact, abuzz with the collective action sanctioned, nay demanded, by the Emergency Alert SMS.
The Senior VP takes a seat with her naked ass on the CEO's struggling face. BRRRRRRrrrrrraaaauuuupppp!
"Ahhhh, now then, as the next...Senior Officer," she says, fighting to keep the man she sits on down and smelling her asshole, "I will be taking charge of this company. All male employees, when they're finished with their...urm...present assignments, will be offered a position of total servitude or will be destroyed."
The other women fart on the men under their butts, enjoying subjugating them and forcing them to inhale their gas.
"I think they will all find this offer more than what they'd receive at any other organization right now."
The women in the room all smile, farting when the mood strikes them which was surprisingly often.
"So, Heather, please inform Beth that she will be outlining the two options at their next HR review; and tell her she's free to have some fun with them while they're weighing their options."
The women chuckle almost sycophantically at the double entendre, the corporate culture of kissing ass still alive and well. Only now the men were doing it literally, and much worse.
At the head of the room, near the door, a weak intern bumps the table, knocking a few pens onto the ground. The women immediately turn to him with a grin; most dismount their executive to grab the poor boy who merely sat in on the wrong meeting. Now he was surrounded, his field of vision filled with asses around his face, closing in and PRRRRRrrrrraaaaauuuuppppppppp! BRRRrrraaapppp! FFRRRRrrraaaauuppppp!
The women rip some of their worst gas through this once aspiring, hopeful kid as the newly crowned CEO watches with an evil smirk, sitting atop the face of her predecessor. BRRRRUUUUUUUuuuuuurrrrppp!
She sighs and smiles widely, looking off as if to start planning for a brighter future with the company under her bum.
Back at the school, the boys huddle together too close in a basement room that wasn't meant to hold even half this number; the last of them shuffle in and the solid metal door slams closed behind them.
Their impatience sets in quick as some of them grow irritable in their discomfort and confusion; and though they'd never admit it, fear. One of the more assertive, older students speaks up, "Hey! What is this shit!? What are we doing here?!"
Some of the other boys chime in, demanding answers to why they were ordered to come here, jammed together like livestock with barely enough room to breathe. They start to bang on anything hollow that will produce enough noise to make a ruckus; in unison they tap out a protest from below the school against their seemingly inhuman detention.
Just above them, a circle of light appears. Then another, not far from the previous; soon the whole room is dotted with these holes of light. The boys try to see up into the holes but they see nothing but ceiling and lights before the holes fall dark again, one by one.
"What the fuck was that?!" One of the boys says, almost frantically; he shakes visibly with fear. Maybe he'd seen more than his mind was willing to admit.
BRRRRRRrrrraaaaauuuuupppp!
A loud fart, an unmistakable sound, echoes down through one of the holes as the boys all freeze in fear and confusion.
PRRRRRRrrrppppp!
Another echoes down as the smell starts to hit one side of the room, they grab their nostrils and mouths in a futile attempt to block the potent aroma; some are already hit by the effects as their eyes start to flutter and roll back in their heads.
In the room above, a lavishly furnished staff lounge is comfortably packed with all the female staff enjoying several pizzas, nachos, and all sorts of terribly stomach upsetting foods to ensure a true blast for the women and their unfortunate victims below. Scattered about the room are beautifully decorated, cushioned pedestals where women sit and unload into the basement.
Ms. Kelton pauses the chatter in the room for a moment, "I just want to say, this is truly fantastic; it's a great party, yes, with really great food!"
The room chuckles a bit, knowingly.
"But we're also supporting a great leader with our action here today. With our power, we will make this world a better place. To Femme kind!"
"To Femme kind!" The women all cheer; some blow a few celebratory farts excitedly down their pedestals to the men below as the last of them fall to the ground amongst his peers, writhing and choking in agony in the room quickly filled to the brim with farts from their cruel teachers.
And in the classrooms, the girls watch a high definition live video feed of the boys below the school. They watch them slowly, painfully pass out or die in a room with air contents so rank it would tear apart the ozone if the gas were released into the atmosphere.
For only a second, in those rooms, did the girls cringe at the images displayed before them. It was perhaps their last tinge of humanity as smiles quickly overcame their gasps, enjoyment and arousal casting aside any semblance of horror they had at witnessing such an inhuman act.
They look to each other, each grinning wide now, confirming their newly found or newly awakened sadistic thoughts with one another; some with their minds already plotting their own path to supremacy.
Perhaps, all along, it was truly the men who had been undeservedly elevated to a status they never earned; for once, they were being seen for what they truly were.
Sub-human. Inferior.
Slaves.