Strumpet – Eng. n. – early term for prostitute. See harlot.

When I look back on my life, so far, I wonder that I am still alive. Even more I wonder how I kept my sanity when all around me was mayhem.

I am a Millennial, born on the day we moved into the twenty-first century. It was to be one of hope, grand advances in health and the sciences. We were going to head for the stars and make the world a happy place. Instead we got shit and disaster, wars, famines and a global pandemic. Also, along the way, we gained more than a few dictators who made Hitler look like a schoolboy having a tantrum. Even my own country was not immune.

I was born to middle class parents in Boston, USA, and had the normal upbringing of the times, schooling that did nothing to help you get a job and suffering the indignities of being put down by FB ‘friends’. I was a small teenager and ended up wanting to be a rock star but, by 2020, found myself in Europe as a very junior member of an army squad trying to make some sense out of Syria. Seeing how that evolved gave me a good grounding on what was to occur back home. I never could see how destroying your own people (because they did not agree with you) could advance your regime but, who knows what despots think.

As the viral pandemic went around the world, we were ordered to keep ourselves to ourselves in our camp. We had the usual supplies airlifted in and just stayed on alert for six months. It was boring but we all survived without a single positive test so, in that regard, we came out ahead. We were repatriated in time to vote in the 2020 election. All of the squad considered the incumbent to be dead in the water due to his poor handling of the virus crisis, his blatant lies and his total disregard for anybody’s feelings other than his own. It was no surprise as the results from each state started to trickle in showing that the other ancient guy was well ahead.

Then, all of a sudden, the news feeds were cut and we were left in the dark as to the rest of the results. Two days later we were amazed when the news feeds were reinstated with the news that the incumbent had won in a landslide. A week later, his opponent had been charged with treason and thrown into a military jail to await his inevitable execution. Having been in Syria, we had all seen this before.

After the investiture that was interesting for the sparse crowd and the lines of armed civilians in front of the podium, we entered a period of massive change. Firstly, the civilian militia was named the Rednecks and we saw them in the streets, swaggering along with their automatic weapons and wearing a red neckerchief or a red bandana, or even both. They ‘augmented’ the police in the job of ‘keeping the peace’ and we were told that it was all in the line of keeping the law and order. It became their law and you had to obey their orders or you were liable to die in public but no-one would claim to have witnessed the act.

I was let go from the army and went home to Boston where there was, at least, an atmosphere of normalcy. I knew that this would not last and created a band of like-minded liberals and we used the arrogance of the Rednecks to our advantage. We started to wear our own red bandanas and go to other states to buy weapons. No-one would dare to say no to a Redneck when they walked into a gun store with money and we amassed quite an arsenal.

In 2022 the White House declared that the Democrats were a terrorist group and the Rednecks started to round up the ones on the registered voter list for immediate ‘re-education’. This generally meant a severe beating and the tattooing of a number on their forearm, ascertaining their wealth and property before confiscating everything and throwing them out in the street.

In 2024 the upcoming election was cancelled and anyone who had put up their name as an opponent was arrested. It was no surprise to me that Congress (now emptied of any opposition) was declared closed and the Senate (full of regime supporters) was declared the ‘Office of the Committee of Unity’.

In early 2025 we had a state visit by Vladimir Putin, the ‘President for Life’ of Russia as well as Kim, our leaders buddy from North Korea. After a big banquet, both were given our Medal of Honour. I did hear that the next day they all played a round of golf and no-one complained when all three picked up their ball at the tee and walked to the hole to drop it in and claim their ‘hole in one’.

Not long after that the country found out that they now had a King and a Royal Household and he had started to assemble a small army of body guards – all women – called the ‘Strumpets’. These were mainly used for ‘close’ protection of the King as well as ceremonial guarding of the White House. They took all the duties that the Secret Service had done.

Of course, there were outraged screams by those who still had a voice and demonstrations around the country but these were generally described as terrorist acts and put down by the Rednecks and their police friends. In Boston it was a different matter. We had our demonstration but when the Rednecks came to break it up they were met with an armed response that caught them unawares. We slaughtered them before they were able to put up a fight and so the ‘Battle of Boston’ began.

We had got word out to friends around the country about the method of obtaining weapons and there started a chain of uprisings that stretched the Rednecks so the King called out the Royal Guard in each state. What he did not expect was for a significant number of these to turn their weapons on their comrades and defect to the Libertarian side. So started the second civil war.

For me, I was captured in a skirmish with the Royal Guard and taken to their base. There I was given a choice – recycling or repurposing. I had heard that recycling meant that you returned to the nation as a couple of bars of soap and a bag of fertiliser so I had to choose repurposing. This, I found out, was a special joy for me because of my military background and my height which made me an ideal candidate to become a Strumpet.

I was flown to North Korea by an old CIA Rendition plane with a dozen others. We were all shackled together and the guards left us to our own devices. Next to me was an old army buddy from Syria and we made a pact to make sure they couldn’t break us as we knew that is what our future held. We touched down in the middle of a base in the middle of nowhere and were taken to a big building that was called the ‘Operations Building’. This was an interesting use of words as it was here where we all became women.

When I came round I was in a hospital bed with various tubes in me and I felt as if I was having a wonderful high. The nurse said “Welcome to your new world, number fifty-nine, I am glad for you as you do make a lovely girl.” Over the next month I was taught how to act in a feminine way and also how to accept the attentions of various men without question. All the time there was mind games and hypnosis but I managed to keep a small vestige of myself within my memory. I quickly realised that if I obeyed orders and allowed myself to be taken while pretending to enjoy it the mind games stopped. The final act upon us was the ritual branding where we all had POTUSK and our number tattooed on our butts while kneeling in a line. We were all now Property of the US King. I was POTUSK59 and my army buddy was POTUSK60. As we knelt waiting for our brand he whispered, “How was Syria”, to which I whispered “Insane.”

We flew into a US army base where we had a month of intensive weapons training and some un-armed combat. The trainers also took the opportunity to avail themselves of our femininity and willingness to follow orders. Over this period I noticed some of the other girls had eyes that burned a bit brighter and started to make contact. By the time we had finished there were about seven of us that knew what we were doing but went along with it.

When we reported to the White House to join the rest of the Strumpets, we found that there had been great changes while we had been away. The King and Queen had been shot by his daughter and son-in-law and hung by their ankles on a frame in the middle of the White House Lawn. In turn, the three sons, with the aid of the Strumpets, had put down the insurrection and the man and woman now hung from the balcony for the crows to pick clean. The three brothers called themselves the “Trinity” and ruled the country in the way their father had done, through division and fear.

The Strumpets now had two jobs, the ceremonial guard and as a harem for the three in charge. We, the new additions, were made very welcome and spent many a night in the company of one or another of these despots. One night, however, they picked three of us with our own minds to join them in a group orgy. We all had ceramic knives which we kept taped to our lower back and, when we had the three in bed, we all reached behind us to rip the knives from their hiding place and plunge them into the brothers. We actually took turns at each one so they were a bloody mess when we had finished.

We took our time to shower and dress in our fatigues and then went through the boys things, finding their ‘all access’ passes and the codes for the nuclear deterrent. With our knives now properly sheathed, we let ourselves out of the bedroom with a cheerful ‘Goodnight, my lord’ before despatching the dull-eyed Strumpet outside. We then went to the Strumpet sleeping quarters to rouse the ones we knew would help, killing all that were too far gone. That done, we made up a ceremonial guard detail to take over from the one outside, relieving them to come back to the quarters and suffer the same fate. Of course, the few that had their wits about them noticed the difference in their relief and were quick to make themselves known. We counted about twenty now, all with their own minds and all now armed to the teeth.

It was a straight-forward operation to take over the White House operations room as they had become so complacent at the ever willing Strumpets they never had a chance to react. We dragged the bodies down to our old quarters and left them with the growing pile already there. Leaving a couple of communications officers at the operations room we went through the building from top to bottom, killing anyone who could be a threat and saving the ones who had been working here as slaves. That done, we contacted various countries that we knew would be friendly and organised an invasion. We also contacted our friends around the country to let them know it was nearly time to attack. We told every army base to keep to quarters and that they would be kept for external affairs, as they should always be.

Two days later several large military transports landed at Washington and disgorged hundreds of troops from several European countries. We helped to secure the bridgehead so that more could come in. From there it spread like wildfire and, by the end of the week, the Rednecks were hightailing it back to their shacks and our own army was growing by the minute as good people came to our side. In a month the country was back and we, from the White House, announced that Democracy would be returning but admitted that it may be somewhat more Democratic than before. Of course, Russia and North Korea made noises but realised that they could do nothing against our own military might as well as a consortium of about fifty other countries.

I, and my fellow Strumpets, were all allowed to leave the service once the new administration was elected and sworn in. We all got medals and a good pension, so allowing us to re-join the world, however, with a slightly different viewpoint from when we left it.

Marianne G 2020