Human Harvest

I struggle. I look about and there's nothing but white and chrome and nothing to reach for, just the surface to which I'm attached by barbless hooks that come up from under neath and form a neat parallel from just below my ears to my ankle. I remember they were inserted by a machine...one up, spray the skin, sink the hook, next, one up, spray the skin, sink the hook, next. My legs are spread and another row goes down the inside of my thighs and calf. From the space above me another hook played down, almost as if it were fishing and then it caught my cock, pierced it straight through, just like a Prince Albert but no hanging down,  my once beautiful cock jerked up and not even hard. From the surface, two more hooks, one for each nut, sunk in and pulls them down.

But nothing on my arms. At least, nothing on my left arm, the right is secured to a board with the skin between the fingers tacked to the surface beneath. Each thumb nail has a thin spike with an elecrode through it, I passed out when those were done. The fucking pain but now my left arm is free, only lightly restrained by a cuff around the wrist that is attached to a tether which constrains my range of motion. Why is it free? What is the purpose?

Another infernal machine rises from below, positions itself over my chest and I scream so loud until I pass out. When I wake up my nipples have been excised, replaced with sturdy, no nonsense hooks. No electrodes, just large, curved hooks. If I were standing up I could hang towels from them. Am I being made into a useful thing? Something with a purpose?

The cuff on my wrist tightens,  My arm is straight and taught. A rubber cuff wraps itself around my bicep and inflates, my arteries and veins pop, I sense I'm to have...something, perhaps needles or a medical catheter inserted but then I see the rack with three aligned needles, They, too, come up from below but unlike everything else, they seem to pulse, in and out, and not in sequence, each has it's own sequencing, they are filled with something that makes them expand and contract, each needle is backed by  tube with something of varying viscosity, something that must be kept warm or it will harden. Just as it will probably harden in me.

I've heard of this, this is the new death penalty, it's to look like surgery, on a table, held down, it's supposed to be surgery. When a sheet is put over me, it will look like I'm being humanely, euthanized, No pain, just three needles in my arm and I look as if I've gone to sleep. That's what it's supposed to look like. They don't mention the harvest that comes first, the removal of bits and pieces of a human body that must be done live, before the fluids are driven in, allowed to slither through my body....Almost lovingly, a tube with an open end descends and covers my cock. There is no sound save from me, not as much as scream as a cry of revulsion as the things that made me an animal are taken away. I cannot see it but I can feel my castration and the cauterization that keeps the surface clean of my blood. My tainted blood, my criminal blood. My head is automatically raised so I can watch the precision with which my legs are removed, it's as if I had the markings from a butcher shop, the sign with the bull parts marked off in red so the butcher will know where to cut.

What more can they take? The needles drive into my flesh and I can feel...something ooze into a vein, something warm, I can see the vein expand as whatever it is moves toward my body. And then the second, cooler, not as thick and then a pause. Why?

With my head up I can feel the delicate tracery of a cutting tool run around my hair line...how easily my scalp peels away. And almost painless. I am no longer a man, I am a living entity with parts being taken, useful parts. This is death, the one they chose for me. At the trial I remember discussion of gradients of death, a judge telling me I was granted the privilege of being a donor, not just thrown in a crematory. They didn't mention I would be a live donor but....would I have taken that over the crematory? If I'd known?

Now I knew where  those well developed parts for men came from that were done at the “installations”. Somewhere near here. Some guy was asleep only to wake up with a full head of hair, my hair, or maybe my nuts or my cock or my nipples. Maybe there are four or five guys getting only one thing. Why not?

For all the pain so far, I cringe; What if I'm to be an organ donor? I signed the back of my driver's license...I gave the State the right to what ever of me they thought they could use...But I thought I'd be dead. Not living. Not watching them take and me reluctantly living.

Another neatly drawn incision with a scalpel around my chest, down to my empty crotch, up to my neck and my skin is rolled back. Those people in  burn units, covered in what they're told is necrotic skin, but it isn't....I'm not dead, I can look at what lays under my chest skin and want to puke. But suddenly I cannot as a mouthpiece goes in and my jaw is clamped shut. My eyes stream with tears and agony as my lower jaw and all my teeth are removed. Surely that could have waited, I cannot last longer and then I feel the fluids gaining speed, I see them coming up my arm to my shoulder toward my neck and then there is a whirring blade. They're right, after you're guillotined you live for a few more second. Long enough to see my body from above and my head is quickly slid away to....