Chug-a-Lug

"Drink it."

"Swallow it down."

But how could she?

It was vile.

Soldier One had told her that she had to eat ten tickets and swallow them down with water. That didn't seem as bad as some of the other things that he'd ordered her to do before.

In fact it seemed way too easy.

So she took the string of tickets, tore off two of them and placed them in her mouth. They were not as easy to chew as she thought they would be. The heavy paper poked and ripped at her gums as she tried to soften it with her saliva. She bit her tongue as she tried to gnaw the unwilling shreds down to a digestible mush.

It wasn't working, but thankfully Soldier Two had placed a huge mug of water on the table. As she reached for it she wondered why so many of the soldiers and gathered to watch her. The room was filled to capacity, and this was hardly the kind of thing that warranted their presence or their glowing animal eyes. After the first swallow she knew why they were there.

The water had been fouled.

Maybe if the room hadn't been so dark she would have noticed sooner. Maybe if her nostrils weren't full of thick dry chunks of blood - souvenirs of her last beating - they would have been filled with the obscene stench that rose from the repellent cup.
Now she knew why they were there. They wanted to drink in the sight of her swilling down each and every one of their degrading contributions. She gagged on it. The mixture was thick with sticky white hate and salaciousness.

"Swallow it down now," commanded Soldier One.

A few of them chuckled and laughed as they watched her struggle. She knew why. They were thinking that they could make her gulp it down, and much more. Lastly there were those few who were furious with her because she hadn't happily gorged on the wonderful feast that they had provided. She could see it in their eyes as she took the first sip.
She almost vomited it back up, but knew they'd make her eat that too; just for spite. Nothing would ever be enough to satisfy their thirst for domination.

It slid down her throat like a thick, syrupy snake; warm and resolute in its wantonness. Unfortunately even with the added lubrication, the two chewed-up tickets refused to follow it down the narrow cleft, and remained obstinately in her mouth.

She hadn't taken enough of a gulp to ease them down. She would have to drink more; much to the delight of the crowd.

As she looked down at the mug she thought about the freedom that Soldier One had promised her, but they'd all promised her things before, only to tell her that they hadn't, and then accused of her of lying with their fists. How could she be certain that they wouldn't do it again? As long as it amused them to torture her they had no reason to let her go. What had begun as a means of retrieving information had deteriorated into the sickest of games. She was no longer a prisoner of war, now she was a bird in a cage that was occasionally prodded by invading and probing fingers that liked to pluck her as often as they wished, and she had no reason to believe that it would ever end.

She knew that their appetites would never be subdued, and their capacity for torture was only limited by their imagination, which knew no bounds. Their avarice was as unrelenting a droplet of snot dangling from an old man's nose. They'd already gotten so much joy from her. The endless rapes and beatings, or the time they'd put electrodes on her thumbs and filled her with a different kind of juice. They had all become addicted to hell, and like all addicts they needed their daily fix.

They were driven by some strange need to break her, and had been fairly successful. Her body had been easy to wear down, but clearly they wanted more than just her flesh. Bodies are easy to dominate, but the mind and the soul have to be worked on constantly. Their goal was to poke and prod her until nothing was left but a creature that breathed in and out without comprehension; and she'd become all too aware that this was what lay in store for her as she looked into the cup, and closed her eyes.

Her mind was shredded. Even the ability to pray had ceased. Yet somehow the answer had come to her, and it had come as clearly and as sharply as a dagger. She wouldn't let them break her. No matter what they did, she must find some way to stop them from taking away the last bit of herself that they'd been unable to touch.

The crowd was beginning to get impatient. She was taking too long to take the second sip. Soldier One slapped her out of the chair. The room turned red as the blood poured down from the reopened cut above her eye. She crawled back up in the chair without the need of anymore persuasion.

She knew their routine by heart.

A voice in the back started chanting "chug-a-lug," and soon the room throbbed with the thunder of their combined fever. The blood from the cut dripped down into the cup. Somehow it remained intact, and even though it was ensnared in contamination it remained a solitary thing, unspoiled by the evil around it.

She tore off the remaining eight tickets and slowly began to gnaw at them. The first two had finally resigned themselves to their fate, and now lay in her mouth in a befouled clot of paste. She reached for the mug, but before bringing it to her lips she looked around the room, and slowly drank in all of their faces. To her they no longer resembled human beings as much as some lower, baser form of life which she couldn't readily name because of the shadows that darkened her brain.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

The sound of them shook the room, making the floor feel like a living thing with a beating and pulsing heart that mimicked the carnality of the chanters whose hot poker eyes burned into her as they screamed, spit, and convulsed.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

When she closed her hands around the mug some of them sprung from their chairs as if they'd been catapulted into the air. They encircled her as her hands encircled the mug. Soldiers Two and Three ordered them to back up, but it was too late. They were lost in this moment, and had abandoned themselves to the exquisite anticipation of her imbibing what they’ve given her to drink.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

Some of them tried to touch her in their need to become one with her in this moment of liquid ecstasy, but they were kept from their pleasure by the threat of Soldiers Two and Three, and the guns they threatened to use on them if they did.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

As she lifted the mug from the table, their chanting became even louder. So much so that she could hear nothing else, not the voices of Soldiers Two and Three ordering them to be quiet, nor Soldier One commanding her to hurry up and swallow the damn things down. Even the constant stream of fear and apprehension that-this-would-be-the-end-of-her which ebbed and circled through her mind was silenced by the ferocious chanting of the mug contributors.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

A great breath of air escaped her as she brought it to her lips. It was as if even her breath wanted no part in the perversion, so it retreated from her and disappeared leaving her alone with more breaths to follow. But even that failed as her escaping breaths became foul, since all that was around them was foul.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

She closed her eyes, and slowly began to take it all in. There was too much for her to hold, so some ran out of the corners of her mouth, and down the sides of her upturned face. The pleasure of watching her drink made many of them want to fill the mug for her again, and they rubbed themselves without notice of their commanding officers. However Soldiers Two and Three had their hands on their guns to make sure that all of them got the message that there would no calls of one-more-for-the-road this night.

The game was getting out of hand.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

They began waving their guns in the air as they tried to get the throng of contributors under control, but they were outnumbered. The soldiers had lost all authority over them as the swarm of madmen continued pressing inward to get as close to her as they could.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

Fights began to start up and spread amongst them. Those in the back were trying to push themselves up front so that they could get a better look, while those in front fought to keep their cherished view. They had become so engrossed in their struggle to see her that they had failed to notice that she hadn't swallowed any of it, but instead sat stock still in the chair with her face puffed up like an animal that hoards nuts in its cheeks so that it's always insured of having a ready meal.

Yet still, they continued chanting. Now it came as naturally to them as breathing. They had lost themselves to it, and willingly paid obeisance to the spirit of abandon which permeated the room like a thick, funky fog.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

Soldier One fired his pistol into the air, and the room became silent. He was about ready to give the order for them to leave and return to their barracks when one of them yelled out, "hey, she hasn't swallowed it yet!"

She felt every one of their eyes blaze into her as of them realized that she had defied them. Some yelled and screamed obscenities at her, while others resumed their unholy chant. They had been cheated of their evening's entertainment, and even the combination of Soldiers Two and Three's pistols weren't going to be enough to quiet them now.


Soldier One turned around, and placed both of his hands on the table in front of her. She could feel his breath against her skin as he came closer to her. She knew that he would make her pay when all was quiet during the night. She had upset the men, which was a punishable offense; but then again, everything was. No freedom now, not that there ever would have been anyway.

As he opened his mouth to command her to swallow, she instead opened hers, and then quickly pounded both of her hands against her cheeks so that all of the contents of her mouth spewed out onto his face, into his mouth, and down his throat. He would've lunged at her, and torn her in two with his hands if he hadn't been so disgusted by the brew which he'd been forced to consume. He gagged on it, spit what he could out, and tried to wipe the rest off of his face.

It seemed as if all of the men gasped at once. They had gotten a show after all, just not the one that they had expected. Many who had been smiling and groaning with pleasure as they had watched her drink were now grimacing, and making different kinds of groans as they looked disgustingly at Soldier One. From the back a few voices could be heard repeating their chant, only this time they said it quietly, with reverence.

"Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug! Chug-a-lug!"

Soldier Two prepared to shoot his pistol into the air, but the room had already become still.

She remained seated and stared blankly before her not taking notice of any of them, not even Soldier One who was behaving like a person who believes they'll never be clean again. The sight of this seemingly helpless creature had silenced them, and for that moment it was she who was in command. So even when she had been returned to her box, and Soldier One had come to her as she knew that he would; to kick her to death or to hell or just into tomorrow with his thick, black boots; she knew that she had won.