Chapter 9
The guards have come to the realization that you enjoy most of the abuse they've been heaping on you. That led them to start searching out more and more depraved ways to torture and use you, in hope of finding your breaking point.
One of them stumbled across the work of Dolcett on the internet and wondered if they could do it to you.
As much as the idea of impaling you on a spit and roasting you alive sounded like fun they decided they have to keep you alive. Too much paperwork if you die. And besides they're having far too much fun torturing you to have it end so soon.
Instead, they decide that they are going to impale you in the spit and roast you but only for half an hour.
There's a company picnic coming up for the 4th of July so it's the perfect time to barbecue you.
The picnic is being held in a clearing in the woods. It's warm and sunny and all the guards are relaxed, drinking, and happy. It would be a wholesome scene except for the naked sissy slut bound to the trees at the edge of the clearing. Standing, spread eagled, wrists and ankles tied to two trees.
The fire pit has been lit. They're just waiting for the fire to burn down and the coals to get hot.
While you're waiting to be "cooked" the warm summer breezes caress your naked, slutty, thicc body. Your nipples have grown hard, and your pathetic little cock is starting to stir too.
As the fire starts to die down your untied and led to the picnic table and told to climb up onto it. On your hands and knees, ass in the air, they start to prepare you for roasting.
Your hair is soaked and tied up. Herbs and onions are shoved into your boipussy. For flavour. An apple is pushed into your mouth. Not so much for flavour but only to make you look a like a roasting piglet.
They make you lay flat on the table and a large, round, stake is laid the length of your body. Ropes soon secure you to it. A wooden Frame is laid across your shoulders and you're soon bound to it as well. Lastly, a thick, long wooden stake is pushed deep into your gaping cunt and attached to the spit.
The entire time they're preparing you the guards talk about you in the 3rd person. They refer to you as "her" sometimes, but usually, "it".
Two burly guards grab each end of the spit and hoist you off the table. It's uncomfortable, but not quite painful. More than anything it's humiliating. You're a piece of meat, yet again, for their amusement. This time quite literally.
The heat hits you immediately when they put the spit in its rack. A small motor is going to rotate you over the fire, just like a fucking animal to be consumed.
It doesn't take long for the heat to start making you dizzy and light headed. It's also turning you on.
The heat licking at your useless cock with each rotation. The guards laughing at you and enjoying the spectacle.
After a few minutes they break out the barbecue sauce and start pouring it all over your limp body. Covering you, head to toe in sticky sweet sauce. A bottle gets shoved up your ass and the sauce pours in to mix with the other ingredients already inside you.
You've lost track of time. You're hoping you don't have to endure too much more. You can feel your cock and balls starting to singe. Your tits are glowing hot. The pain is becoming almost too much to take. Your screams and pleading are muffled by the apple in your mouth. Not that any of them would take pity and offer you relief.
The last thing you remember hearing, before you passed out, is one of them saying "Three more minutes and then we'll take the meat off the fire."
You're awakened by a bucket of cold water being thrown on you. Every inch of your body feels like it's been sunburnt. To make matters worse you're covered in sticky sweet barbecue sauce.
The guards want to get you cleaned up a little before the next stage of the festivities bit there's no hose to spray you down with. Then a brilliant idea emerges.
You're tossed on the ground, still tied to the spit, and the four dogs that have been hanging around are called over. They quickly begin licking the sticky sweet sauce off of you. Their rough tongues dragging across your burnt body is agonizing. Because you're a sick fuck, you like it. You start to moan and wiggle around to give the dogs access to more of you. Especially your pathetic little cock.
A couple of the guards notice what you're doing and start to laugh. They point out to everyone that you're fucking enjoying it. Everyone agrees that you're the most depraved, filthy, amoral, piece of fuck meat they've ever seen. They're excited about it. It means they can do anything to you. No matter how depraved, degrading, disgusting, violent, or taboo.
While they are chatting about what to do next, one of the dogs lifts his leg and starts pissing on you. The hot stream feels scalding on your burnt skin. It splashes across your stomach and chest. Some of it gets up around your neck and you open your mouth, hoping to be able to drink some of it to relieve your incredible thirst.
Everyone has gone silent, watching in amazement. When the second dog starts pissing on your chest you wiggle around to take it in the face. The hot dog piss in your mouth giving you relief from the thirst and a fantastic thrill at being able to be so fucking filthy. It's at that moment that the last 2 dogs start pissing all over your hard, but pathetic, cock. Your moans of pleasure leave the guards, and their wives, laughing and cheering.
Because it's the 4th of July the guards have brought along a bunch of flags, firecrackers and decorations to celebrate the day.
The dogs have licked you clean and lost interest in pissing on you so everyone is looking for a new amusement.
It's time to do some decorating.
You're untied from the spit and another bucket of ice cold water is thrown on your limp body. As you lay there, dazed, aroused, humiliated, you wonder what fucked up thing they could possibly have in mind.
A kick to the ribs gets you on your back. A couple more kicks and you're spread eagle in the grass.
One of the wives has brought a bunch of small flags. The paper ones with a wooden stick. She wants to shove them in your piss hole. The only problem is you've gone limp. It would be much easier if your clit was hard. It only takes her a moment to figure out how to get you hard again. She drops her panties, lifts her dress, squats over your face and starts to piss. It works like a charm. You can't help yourself. You open your slut mouth and drink it all down as quickly as you can. The shame and humiliation does what it was intended to do. Your useless cock is nice and hard again.
With her cunt still firmly pressed to your face she begins sliding the stick of the flag down into your cock. You're so embarrassed and ashamed at how much you're loving this treatment.
She manages to push two more flags into your pisshole. As she hops off your face she tells you to get the fuck up. You're exhausted and hesitant. A quick kick in the head and a slap across the face gets your moving. Your struggle to your feet.
She instructs you to show everyone how patriotic you are and to start waving the flags. Your efforts aren't even close to what she wants and she kicks you in the ass, over and over, making you stumble around, and making your faggot clit wiggle. The laughter from the crowd is so fucking humiliating and you wonder what the fuck is wrong with you that you love it.
That's when someone suggests that they should tun you into a proper flag pole.
Chapter 10

Having grown tired of watching your futile attempts to wave the little flags jammed in your pisshole the wives have decided to turn you into a “proper” flag pole.

A shovel is tossed at your feet and you’re ordered to start digging. They want a hole two feet deep and 3 feet wide. And you had better hurry the fuck up. Your efforts are decent to being but because of all the abuse you’ve endured so far today you start to tire and slow down. A crack of the whip then the sting as it bites into your ass. You dig faster. Another crack and another stripe across your sissy ass. You don’t speed up digging but your clit starts to involuntarily grow. This prompts laughter and ridicule from the guards, and particularly, the women. They can’t believe just how much of a pathetic, pain and abuse craving, sissy slut you really are.

Before too long the hole is complete. She shoves you to your knees at the edge of the hole, facing it. Turning to one of the other wives she says, “Jenn, bring the big flag and pole over here. We’re going to do this up right. Real patriotic.” She shoves you forward, so that you fall into the hole. Because of the size of the hole only your upper body fits. Your ass is in the air, sticking straight up. Completely gaping and exposed.

As she hands over the flagpole Jenn says, “I don’t think it’s going to fit. It’s way to big.” It’s not going to matter if it’s too big or not. One way or another it’s going in your cunt. Lubed, dry. No one cares.

The fat, wooden, flag pole is pushed up against the entrance to your cunt and pressure is slowly applied. It’s starting to work its way in. You do your best to relax and push out, to get the pole in your cunt without too much pain and tearing. It helps, but there is still so much of the huge pole to go.

She starts to lose patience with the progress and starts shoving harder and harder. Your cries for her to please stop are, obviously, ignored and you’re told to shut the fuck up and take it. You’re reminded that you’re only there to entertain them. Your pain doesn’t matter. Besides, she says, your hard clit says you’re enjoying it. She makes you admit you like it. You have to yell, loudly, for everyone to hear, that you like having the flag pole shoved up your ass.

Jenn starts to help. Between the two of them they’re able to force the pole deep into your cunt. Judging by how full you feel, you think there’s about two feet of hard wood up inside you. You’re ashamed of yourself for being proud of how much you can take.

Once it’s firmly in place a flag is attached to pole. It gently unfurls in the breeze. The wind playing with the cloth makes the pole move around in your cunt, pushing it from side to side. It feels like the wind is fucking you.

Your told that you cannot let the flag fall. It’s disrespectful. If it falls you’ll be beaten unconscious.
The group goes back to drinking, snacking and playing games, leaving you there. An object to amuse them.
After about half an hour you notice the dogs are sniffing around you, curious as to why you’re there. Realizing you’re not moving much they conclude you’re not a person and start pissing on you, like they would any tree, bush or shrub. At first they piss on your ass, because the flag pole is a natural place for them to piss. Eventually though they piss on your shoulders, back and face. Because you’re in the hole it’s really convenient for them to piss all over you.
Everyone sees it happening but there’s no way they’re going to stop it. It’s way too funny. Hell, not only are they not going to stop it, they’re going to join in. For the next hour you endure an almost non-stop rain of piss. All over your back and ass, all over the back of your head. In your face. So much in your face. Each time someone pisses in your face you open your mouth and drink in as much as you’re able. You try to be subtle about it so they don’t see you drinking it but eventually you’re caught. It’s decided that if you’re going to do that you might was well be a urinal for them for the rest of the evening. From that point on all of the piss, and theres so much because of all the beer drinking, is aimed at your mouth.
The sun is starting to fade from the sky. The coming darkness signals the next stage of the days festivities. The fireworks display is going to be amazing this year!