The loud banging at the door at 02.23 hrs could only mean one thing.

The Student Militia always turned up unannounced in the middle of the night to make their arrests. There were 10 of them, all wearing black uniforms and red bandanas, not a single one of them over 22 years old.

"Oh my g ... Jim!" his wife screamed, as a huge crash signaled the collapse of their front door, followed by the percussive sound of heavy boots.

"Be brave, darling, I love you. I'll get Jules."

Jim was a 48 yr old door-to-door salesman. His wife Sarah was 44 and she now worked as a waitress. Their 21 yr old daughter Juliette had just graduated.

Jim turned on the light but before he could put any clothes on, the bedroom door opened and several Student Officers entered. The one at the front, wearing a red turban instead of a bandana, spoke.

"James and Sarah Armstrong, both you and your daughter are being arrested under Amendment 4a to the 2022 Payback Act. You will be taken from here immediately and transported to a Penal Colony where you will undergo Thought Reform during a period of Forced Labor. That period will be State's Pleasure, but not less than 10 years ..."

Jim always slept with nothing on and he was standing naked in front of the young Officers. He cupped a hand limply in front of his genitals. At that moment, he heard Juliette screaming.

"Pl ... please, don't hurt her."

The boy in the turban smiled. "Don't worry. That's not our job."

"C ... can we put some clothes on?"

Sarah was still under the bedcovers. Jim knew his wife was naked too. She was holding the sheet to her chin, tousled and tearful.

"It's warm outside. There's no need for clothes. We'll go through your house with a toothcomb after you've gone. All your possessions belong to us now." He grinned. "Think of them as our commission."

Three more Youth Officers dragged Juliette through the doorway into the bedroom. His daughter was naked too, struggling and sobbing.

Two minutes later, Jim, Sarah and Juliette had been locked into the back of a red Militia van. They had nothing. Not even clothes on their backs. Just their wedding rings and their memories. Jim watched the smashed front door recede into the distance under the streetlights. He wondered if they'd ever see their home again.

The Armstrongs weren't the only family in the processing station at three o'clock in the middle of the night. There were two other husbands, with their wives and adult children waiting in silence except for a few stifled sobs. Jim exchanged glances with the men, but didn't dare speak.

A woman in a wheelchair seemed to be in charge. She was young, in her 20s, in a black uniform with a red beret.

"Excuse me, Miss?" Jim whispered as she stared up at him, taking in his naked body and genitals without a trace of interest. There was a clipboard in her lap. She arched her eyebrow indicating he could speak.

"I think there's maybe some mistaken identity. I'm just a salesman and my wife works in a diner. Our daughter's unemployed. We're not rich."

The girl turned over her clipboard and looked at it.

"James Martin Armstrong, born 11^th August 1977?"

"Yes."

"Employed as an equity salesman at various banks for 23 years between 1999 and 2022?"

"Er ... yes."

"Big annual bonuses in 2019 and in 2021?"

"Well ... it depends on what you mean by ... big."

She looked at him and at Sarah and shrugged.

"Big enough."

With that, she wheeled away, dismissing his plea.

 

***

 

Bull was sat watching football on TV.

He was in his favorite chair, a beer at his side, a woman at his feet. She was kneeling facing him, doing her utmost to suck his cock reverently while he supped his beer and bellowed curses at the screen.

Colonel Bullock "Two Rocks" Sykes was the 45yr old Warden of Penal Colony Nine. With a face and figure that bore more than a passing resemblance to the actor Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson, his friends in the military had wittily nicknamed him "Two Rocks", given that Bull was a taller, heavier and even bigger version of the wrestler-turned-movie-star.

Standing 6' 6" in his underpants, weighing in at 280 lbs, with a 52inch chest and 38inch waist, Bull was a daunting sight. His skin was a deep shade of ebony. There was a large bullet scar on his left thigh and a tattoo of a charging two-horned bull on his massive right bicep. However, without his underpants, Bull was an even more daunting sight. The size of his appendage had given rise to a witty secondary nickname for him; "Two Cocks".

After a 20 year military career, Bull was now Chief Warden of Penal Colony Nine, one of the 25 prison camps set up after the Revolution. He ran it as his personal fiefdom. His word was law.

Penal Colony Nine was located on the remote isle of Verteneuf in the southern sea. Its combination of barbed wire, electrified fencing, armed guards, tagged prisoners, shark-infested seas and the sheer distance to the mainland made escape impossible. Around 40,000 prisoners were crowded into its four facilities.

Bull had his pick of the ladies. Over the past couple of years he'd singled out his own best 'one percent'. Since opening, around 25,000 females had arrived on the island and Bull had sampled some 250 of them. They generally spent a week or two in his private residence. A steady trickle of new ladies kept things nice and fresh while a dribble of departures made space available.

The blonde currently sucking Bull's cock was very definitely amongst the one percent. Linda was a beautiful blonde white woman, 29 yrs old, with aquamarine eyes, a big rack, tight pussy, no kids but married. The couple had arrived on the island three weeks ago and Bull had taken them both under his wing straight off the hovercraft.

Her husband Josh was kneeling on dry grains of rice watching the action in silence. He was side-on to the TV screen. The action he was watching wasn't the football. The action was his pretty wife giving another man head.

They made a cute pair. Josh Montagu was 32 and he'd previously been a lawyer, a junior partner of some law firm. Poor guy had been caught out by the increase in the Quota to 3 percent. His earnings were well outside the top two percent but, shucks, the law's the law. Bull didn't allow emotion to cloud his judgment. Payback meant payback in his book.

"Fucking hell." Bull exploded at the screen. "How'd he miss that?"

He grinned down at Linda in mock-apology. She'd gagged as he thrust into her throat. Women had always struggled with his size. Back in the old days, girlfriends used to refuse to blow him. They'd maybe lick the head and jerk him off manually but that was it. Only Bull Junior's mom had actually gone the whole hog and tried to get "two cocks" in her mouth.

But things were different now. Women like Linda stretched their jaws until their lips cracked. They learned to worship his heavily veined and gnarled black truncheon and opened their throats for his seed. It had taken this blonde a couple of weeks but she'd got there in the end.

Of course, Bull had got this job mostly because of his distinguished military career. But also because of the Government's genuine commitment to diversity. He was black. But his colleagues represented every kind of oppressed minority; for example, Lesley was lesbian, Lakshit was gay, Umar a Muslim, Bandit disabled, Kimiko was oriental, poor Hilda was simply "old". Even Sadie, who was white, had been an exploited prostitute. And they were just a few examples of his hugely diverse staff employed on Penal Colony Nine.

Of course, not every prisoner was white. Amongst the 40,000 or so, there were some non-whites. But the 2023 'First Amendment to the Payback Act' had exempted many rich black musicians, sportspeople and successful minority entrepreneurs from Retribution and Redistribution. Indeed, even a few popular white footballers had been excused to demonstrate the Government's genuine commitment to fairness.

However, privileged whites obviously made up around 98 per cent of the Colony's inmates. Bull worked them hard. Sucking his dick was the least of their friggin' problems. Penal Colony Nine was one of the few labor camps turning an actual profit. He'd actually found it straightforward to achieve; simply maximize revenues and minimize expenses.

Bull glanced across at Josh, who was watching them both in respectful silence, biting his lower lip at the pain in his bare knees. The ex-lawyer was naked, with his 9-digit number freshly tattooed onto his forearm, and rings pierced into his nipples and cockhead. His body and pubic hair had been shaved and his head shorn to an extreme buzz-cut.

Bull smiled the large steel ring inserted in the kid's pale cock. Josh wasn't locked at present. He was erect, his 6-inches jutting out like a yardarm in front of him despite the pain. Bull liked to see husbands salute him while they watched. He'd warned young Mr. Montagu not to allow his flag to droop.

He eased Linda's blonde curls away from the side of her head so that Josh could have a better view of his pretty wife's profile, and her pouting lips as they slurped up and down on his thick shaft. Josh's 6-incher was at least average but still considerably smaller than Bull's.

"What do you think kiddo? Your missus doing a decent job this evening?"

"Yes Sir, it would appear so. I hope so anyway."

"The jury's out." Bull said, with a wink at his legal joke.

Josh smiled politely, wincing again as he shifted on the dry grains.

"Don't lose that erection kiddo. Not if you want to keep those balls."

"Yes Sir."

Bull looked down at Linda. Her forehead was scrunched, eyes downcast, glossy lips painfully stretched. Her lipstick was a bright crimson that looked so good against his shaft. Red and Black, the colours of the State.

She was slowly bobbing her head like a yoyo, putting just the right amount of pressure on his cock, exactly as he'd taught her. Her tongue was trying to swirl around his helmet although there was barely space in her mouth.

"Look at me."

Her blue eyes met his, shifting her head so she could continue to suck. Her eyelashes fluttered. There was a sheen of sweat on her forehead.

"Okay. Final minute." He instructed.

Hands behind her back, Linda began moving her head a little faster, sucking her cheeks in, which accentuated her lovely cheekbones. Bull could feel his balls getting ready and he turned to look at Josh again. Just three weeks ago the lawyer had been a lucky man; well paid, with a nice apartment and a truly beautiful wife.

Bull threw his head back, groaned, and allowed his seed to coat that same beautiful wife's palate, gums and tongue. He heard a little choking sound but otherwise she kept silent, somehow absorbing it all in her mouth.

Eventually he opened his eyes and looked down, slowly withdrawing his ebony cock. Her jaws remained wide open. Her pink tongue was pearly white, covered in his copious orgasm. She blinked up at him.

"Not bad." He said, begrudgingly. "Okay, swallow."

She gulped once, twice, three times and then opened her jaws again, showing him her glistening pink tongue and gums. Her nostrils flared as she sucked in air through her nose, digesting his cum.

At that moment, somebody broke free in the match on TV.

"Okay, let's do this!" Bull shouted excitedly at the screen.

The married couple remained in place, waiting patiently while he focused on the football again, until a break in the action.

He smiled down at Linda.

"Crawl there and suck your husband's cock for a bit. Poor boy looks kind of lonely and ready to shoot. But do NOT make him cum."

She blinked again, nodded, and crept a few paces to where the love of her life was kneeling. Then her lips encircled the large steel ring in his cockhead as deeply as she could and began to suck carefully.

Bull winked over at Josh and settled back to watch the football.