"First Day of Classes: Commonwealth College of Death Adm" By robblu (https://pastebin.com/u/robblu) URL: https://pastebin.com/55k90NK5 Created on: Friday 10th of March 2017 08:09:45 PM CDT Retrieved on: Saturday 31 of October 2020 03:22:55 AM UTC First Day of Classes: Commonwealth College of Death Administration « on: March 09, 2017, 07:29:50 pm » Quote This is the first installment of my two years of interconnected stories about life at the CCDA There are about 600 of us. For the last two years, we were students at the Commonwealth College of Death Administration, the greatest and most notoriously renowned higher education institution in all of the provinces. Like most of us, I was a conscripted slave given the opportunity, along with 12000 other girls every year to learn about the administration of death for conversion, population control, discipline & morale, and recreation. The college only graduates 5000 regular students, 1000 of those who move on to the Master's program where 800 are killed or carried over. I was one of those carry overs. I finished the Master's program but didn't make into the 80th percentile. I could have graduated and lived beyond this day, but I became so keenly interested in Death Administration that I wanted to go into the program. I also have to admit that after three years, I wouldn't know how to live a life where I wasn't prepared to die everyday. At first, it was terribly frightening. There were times where I was horrified by watching people being killed, in class, at lunch, in Temple, sometimes just at random. Then I stood at the precipice of thinking that I was going to be killed. Three times I was an alternate for morning executions. Once I was standing naked on the scaffold with a noose around my neck when the tardy subject of the day came late thus exonerating the need for me to die. I also was a thick girl and on more than one occasion wondered if I would be culled for she-male food. However, the pervasive nature of death on our campus taught me how to embrace the opportunity to die for someone who was going to graduate and be a death administrator. That was why when I graduated with pretty high grades, I chose to stay another year in Master's program. I knew it was very unlikely I would pass the dissertation. My grades were good. So was everyone else's so the curve was far too competitive. When you fail to get into the 20th percentile in the Master's program they don't let you go back to regular graduation status. Some in the program were killed. Some of the girls who knew they weren't going to be in the top 20% volunteered for terminal prostitution and were recruited by local brothels. Most of the girls who needed to die, were like me. We were carried over to the Orientation day of the next school year. I remember when I first came to CCDA, wide eyed, afraid, excited, thrilled, horrified all in one bundle. We met that first day at the Catharsis Center, the 12,000 seat arena for entertainment, sports and assemblies. To enter the beautiful modern structure, one first had to cross a 65 Yard bridge that passed over a moat. As I approached that morning with scores of other anxious freshmen girls and she males, I could see a commotion, fun but congested a third of the way up the bridge as uniformed freshmen girls were being greeted by nude girls, the carryovers from the previous year. Beyond them, I saw those same carryovers being calmly executed. It was the first time that I had ever seen anyone being killed that wasn't for food. When I got there it seemed like I was kissed and fondled by dozens of naked young women. I loved it though I didn't understand it all. Finally, I was being kissed and fingered by gorgeous tall Nubian she male. When she broke out kiss, she smiled broadly and told me to "present" her for execution. I watched her die quite horribly, so much that I had to quell my nausea as she was hung up and disemboweled before my eyes, though she seemed to want to have it no other way. Now I stood in the role that my first dark princess once had. I never realized how impacting the lesson that she demonstrated would affect me, but I never failed to embrace how strong and confident she was even in the face of such a humiliating and painful form of death. We all woke up like it was Christmas morning. When we took off our pajamas to get ready, each girl there knew it was the last time they would wear clothes. This was good for me because I really liked being naked. We all were sleeping on mats on the floor of a nearby gymnasium. Many of us got no sleep. I was too excited. I wasn't necessarily looking forward to being executed, but this was the apex of my life. I remember the black girl and pray that I can be as strong as an example for the girl who will present me for my death. No one ate but there was juice and hot chocolate there for us to have as we got ready. I joined the group that I was designated with, about 25 other girls who were also dropping from the Masters program. Some I knew but none very well. I had grown much closer to teachers and administrators. My regular disciplinarian had taken me on as her concubine which was wonderful. I was sad that I would not be receiving any more punishments from her. My life was sprinting towards my death and I didn't have time to lament some of the simpler things which I had learned to enjoy. I suppose the last two years had given me one thing that I enjoyed the most and one of the things that continued to mold and motivate me. Morning Executions. My times as the alternate weren't as impacting for me as watching three girls being executed precisely at 8AM, every single day. Most of the girls were strangers to me when I watched them leave this world in the mornings. Some of them were acquaintances and, yes, even close friends and lovers, were called to be put to death as a show of cathartic comradarie with death's closeness to us as students there. I was in the second tier of girls to go out. I would go to the southeast entrance along with my group. 25 girls in each shift went out when the previous shift was almost exhausted. The routine is a simple, fun process. We go out naked and welcome the new students with a sensual hug, kiss or maybe more if they are comfortable. I remember that before I sent the black girl to her death, a she male student, naked and hugely erect, tenderly bent me over at the waist and fucked me tenderly for several sweet moments. I remember seeing her hanging by the wrists, her belly gaping and empty from the disembowelment. We are each given 12 pins. After the student has been given a proper greeting, we pin the student and move on to the next. When all of our pins have been given out, we are to ask the last girl greeted to please present us for execution. Along the bridge, on both sides there are stations where we will be killed and displayed. Two years ago it was disembowelment. Last year, hanging was the choice. None of us will know what form of execution will be used on us until we walk out. We move about and we are all naked. I love it. In a life where we are always kept in uniform and only get to be naked when we bathe or have sex, this is a wonderful treat for me. I love being naked. I am not a gorgeous girl, with a pear shaped thick figure, reddish hair and freckles that are a little too obvious. However, I have long since learned here that my value is in how I openly relate to my sisters. The one thing that is not tolerated at CCDA is clicks and stratified student groups. Death is a real way to control how you relate to one another. We are in the locker rooms of the Catharsis Center and the first group of greeters has gone out to the four entry bridges. I am warming up with slightly heavy set girl named Hannah. She is easily 225 pounds though she is only 5-3, however as we loosen up and stretch, she is nimble and flexible. When we have stretched we move close and begin kissing and petting each other. We had been instructed that as greeters a new student should know how excited (read aroused) that we are for them to be there and to greet them. Our arousal signifies that in a visceral way. Hannah and I are sitting close on a locker room bench, my legs over hers. On the next bench down two other girls are deeper in their preparation, laying in a makeshift sixty nine, cooing blissfully. We are kissing with a purpose that is almost religiously transcendent. As we break, she takes stock in my facial reactions. My fingers have roamed between the cleft of her mount and found her flower, gooey with her excitement, which causes me to smile spontaneously. I bring my fingers to her mouth and she greedily takes it and sucks her own excretions from it. I feel my own pussy swell at her transparent arousal and my own, caused my her index fingers easily sliding inside me. I let her have her way but manage my breathing and therefore my need to climax. I don't want to come. I probably won't come when I am greeting but I want to be completely given over to whatever is supposed to happen to me. After a moment, both of us realize that we won't be able to keep from a strong climax, the emotions of the day tipping us, so we reluctantly break and simply caress each other's face and bosom, mine smallish, hers round and full. Almost as soon as we are done with our warm ups, we hear the call for the second group on the southeast bridge. I draw a deep cleansing breath looking at Hannah's own intense face. "Die well, sister." "Die well," I parrot as I rise. We walk together with our group, each of us getting a little bag of twelve pins. We make our way down the hall and up stairs to the arena entrance. As we pass the passageways into the arena, we can see the stage being set up for the long and demonstrative orientation. It is late August and though it is still relatively early in the morning, my nakedness is perfect for the warm Central Province climate. I can feel my smile beaming as I emerge, even though I am instantly assailed with the vision of how I will die. Every 15 feet on each side of the bridge is ten foot tall steel rod with a sharp tip. On the ones that are closest to the door, the first eight on each side, each one has one of my sisters from the first group, impaled vaginally or anally on it. As we move down past the dead, I see the dying. Students are bringing carryovers up for execution. On each side there is a six foot mount with a drop door. It is set up so that the high tip of the steel rod emerges between the door. On my right side, a girl has just been presented and climbs to the top of the mount. Once her arms are restrained, she is guided to stand over the tip until it is poised in one of her orifices. The trap door is released and that girl, a short haired brunette with a small, gymnast's build cries out as she sinks onto the rod as it pierces her body. I turn away and pass a couple of other sisters going to their death. I am trailing four or five of my group. We stand out so much. There are so many freshmen students coming in now in their hunter green plaid skirts, white shirt and black vests. They stand in stark contrast to the menage of pale, pink, and tan naked bodies now intermingling which I can see clearly ahead in the controlled melee before me. I feel my pulse quicken with excitement and unconsciously find myself jogging, my bare feet finding the cement no impediment to increasing my speed. In a moment, I am there and go right into the crowd... deep towards the front. There are sudden couplings and kissing and giggles and the occasional passionate sigh. I pass a sister kneeling in front of a she male freshmen, her cock large and full, arching into the naked girl's mouth. I come into a opening in the throng and see an petite Asian girl slowing pensively as she comes up the bridge. I walk out to her stepping directly in front of her. "Hello, sister. Welcome to CCDA." Before she can react or respond I bring her close to me, easy because of her dwarfish size and kiss her on the lips. It is easy but full. Her mouth opens spontaneously and we begin to kiss more deeply and I feel her bare hands rubbing up and down over my skin. She breaks away and at first her face is in transition, but I feel her hands move up and liberally take measure of my breasts, her thumbs running over my taut nipples. She smiles broadly. "You very pretty," she says with a hushed, modest accent. I smile as I pin her uniform vest. "Go say hi," I say moving away from her to a girl who virtually was my hair and build. Like I was three years ago, she is very uncertain and freezes as I greet her. "Welcome to campus." She smiles weakly but doesn't flinch as much as I kiss her more carefully this time. Reluctantly, her mouth opens and my tongue invades inside with deliberate caution. After a moment of petting her tongue with mine, she begins to respond. "Wow," she says as the kiss parts, though I hold our groins together. "We want you to have something to look forward to." This causes her to blush. My hands catch her skirt and playfully tug it upward. Her blush becomes more pronounced as her bare thighs are exposed to the many people moving about. I feel her tense. "Shh...relax. Look around you, its okay. It's what is supposed to happen." As if on cue to my gentle admonition, right next to us, a freshman girl has raised her skirt completely up and her underwear are in a bunch around her ankles. A black carryover, meaty and very dark is kneeling in front of her alternating between administering tender slow licks over the girl's tiny clitoris or stroking it with a wet index finger. The younger girl is smiling happily as her genitals are being lavished. "I just want to touch you." My reassurance didn't seem to help too much. When I ran my hand over her mons through her underwear, I could feel none of the tell tale heat that I was feeling. She either wasn't attracted to girls, to me, or was simply to nervous and afraid about coming to school. I let her skirt go and give space. "Listen, try to relax. A lot of girls are going to kiss and touch you for the next few minutes. Okay?" I say this as I am pinning her, my second. She nods still looking around in apprehension. I don't know how she was accepted to CCDA because this was the easiest part of life here. I move off and turn to see behind me, one of the few friends in my group, Bethany Lewis, a statuesque red head with a bad overbite on her hands and knees. Her face is etched with a delirious mix of pain and pleasure. A she-male freshman is kneeling behind her, skirt up, her cock moving in and out of Bethany's still reluctant rectum. Without asking, I stroke the she-male's hair and turning finds me kissing her. I kneel down next to her and stroke Bethany's butt as she kisses me urgently. When she stops to focus on fucking her, I let myself bend down and kiss her angry bottom. This just spurs the she-male to pop her cock out of Bethany. I smile as I find it in my mouth, still smelling and tasting of the funk of her bowels. No time to worry about Hepetitis. I will be dead soon enough. I nurse the member a moment and then return it back into Bethany's butt. I pin the she-male and get up to find more. Report to moderator Logged submissively, Margie Scarborough submissive_margie Full Member *** Posts: 160 Author, artist, pain-slave, View Profile Email Personal Message (Offline) Re: First Day of Classes: Commonwealth College of Death Administration PT 2 « Reply #1 on: March 09, 2017, 07:30:23 pm » Quote The process is unhurried but eventually I find myself with simply one pin. I also find myself surprisingly at the back of the activity, as the third group has come out onto the bridge and more than half of my groups girls are dead or being led to their deaths. I have been so dizzy with playful desire that now I feel like this last greeting needs to be perfect. I am actually standing alone naked. Nearby, a shorter blond freshman girl with a knowing face makes eye contact with me. She is kissing and hugging a naked girl. After a moment of exchanging pleasantries, the naked girl moves off to someone else. The student has nearly 30 pins on her vest. Her clothes are well rumbled and untucked from so many proding hands. Even her short hair looks a little mussed. However, as soon as the othe naked girl left her, she straightened her skirt and walked directly to me. I didn't have a chance to even say welome because her mouth was upon mine. Not aggressively but with full fervance her tongue lances into my welcoming mouth. That one kiss lasts a full three minutes, leaving me surprised and breathless. She reaches down between my legs and finds my pussy soaking, inserting two fingers easily. Her eyes are fully on mine. "How many pins do you have left?" she whispers in my ear as her fingers have skillfully found the very edge of my G-spot causing me to writhe in greeting. "Only one," I manage to gasp. She smiles broadly, jamming her fingers farther into me. "OOHH...." "Can you come really fast?" Her voice rasps in my ear. I nod furiously suddenly overwhelmed by this younger, but knowing freshman. She kneels down in front of me looking up into my desperate face. "I'm going to take you to be killed aren't I?" Again, all I can do is shake my head in agreement. "First come in my mouth." "Yes Miss," I say as if she was the elder. With a satisfied expression, she moves her face to my pussy and her tongue, hot and writhing is suddenly bathing my clit and pussy. "Oh god...oh god...oh god," I say over and over. I am starting to lose my legs but she wraps her arms around them tight and that feeling of being taken and restrained does something to me, and I fall of the edge. "AAAAAAWWWWWW......" I feel myself squirt and my confirmation of that is a giggle from between my legs. She licks furiously as if she could possibly keep up with my excretions. Finally she leans back and sits on the back of her legs. Her face and the upper part of her uniform are wet with my mix of pee and pussy juice. She has a prideful look as she gazes up at me with clear laciviousness in her heart. "I got you messy... your uniform. You're going to be punished." She rises to her feet to face me, planting a lingering kiss on me, leaving me with the entoxicating mix of pee and pussy juice still echoing on her lips. "When you live and love as passionately as I do," she says defiantly, "it's hard not to expect to punished once and awhile." I suppose my mouth was still a little wide open. Now, moments away from end of my life, I wanted to marry this young nymph. Of course, I realize that her passion was for the moment and not me. For the intangible sensation of being the one to authorize my death. Still, were I to live a little longer. Unconsciously, I raise my hand to her cheek. She senses my struggle this uncanny young thing and gives me one more kiss. "Are you done being alive?" she asks oddly. I smile awkwardly but realize that she has brought me to the precipice. "Do you want me to have you killed?" I feel myself shudder, my eyes completely focused on her now. I find that I am still without much in the way of words, my orgasm still resonating through me, so I am forced to resort to a slow nod. She extends her hand. Taking it, she turns me back towards the fearsome rods. As the last girl mounted finished crying out, the girl holding my hand pointed to the opposite side of the bridge where the mount had been moved to an empty pike. She walks me directly back to this station where a tall, obviously she-male administrator is waiting for us. She waits patiently as we come up. "Hello ladies," she chirps. "How can I help you?" "I would like to present this slave for slaughter please, Miss." I shuddered. I hadn't been called a slave in three years. "Has the slave conducted herself appropriately today?" "She has Miss." "Does she come to be executed by her own free will and volition?" The girl looks back at me with a small smile and I return it, fully for the first time. This precious young girl has startled me by enriching these last moments of my life. I nod. "She does Miss." "Then with your permission, I will impale her on this steel rod until she is dead." "You have my permission." That was it. I look at her as the administrator takes me by the elbow and leads me behind the steel rod and leads me up the mount. Once at the top, she restrains my hands behind me with a simple plastic tie. I feel my breath grow rapid and shallow as the moment draws closer. At the administrator's leading, I step forward onto the trap door where she lines my pussy up with the sharp tip of the steel. When she is satisfied with the position she comes close to my face. "Squat till you feel the tip go in." I obey without hesitation. I bend my knees and the cold steel gently parts my lips, at first poking me and then sliding inside about an inch. I nod at the administrator and then look out the lovely girl who is watching me almost directly below. 'Good bye' I mouth to her as the trap door drops. I don't fall far as the spear gores through my cervix and starts to slow my fall. I feel searing pain in my belly. "AAAAAHHHHH!!!! AAAAAUUUUGGGHHHH!!!!!" I am humiliated by my screams but they are involuntary because the pain is so extraordinary. I feel myself instinctively try to writhe off the tormenting tip but that only serves to cause me to sink even farther down on to the tip, which now has burrowed up to my chest. I am now sobbing. The administrator has joined the girl on the ground to watch me die. She reaches up and just pulls down on my leg. This is all that it takes. The tip pushes through my diaphragm through my right lung. I try to scream again but there is insufficient oxygen in my lungs to do so. All of the pain throughout the inside of me is punctuated by a tearing pain in my right shoulder as the bloody tip emerges out of me. I feel consciousness leaving me as my head falls away from the tip. My eyes are open and blood is oozing from both my pussy and mouth. I can actually feel my legs twitching as life is leaving me. I see the girl turn away from me as my significance for her has passed and I am only left with the final realization that I was finished as a human being.