AN: Me first story, everyone! Plox take your time to review, but no flaming, alright? Flames will be put in the fireplace where they belong!
Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead, or anything at all for that matter.
(Set during the events of "Made to Suffer")
The assault on Woodbury was well underway. Michonne could hear guns firing and men calling out in pain, but it didn't matter to her. All that mattered to her right now was the man in front of her; the man whose daughter she had just killed.
When the Governor tackled her, it took all her strength and skill to fight him off, and she lost her sword in the process. Desperately, she ducked behind a low cupboard to escape his wrath.
"Fuck you, Michonne, you dirty slut! Get over here," screamed the Governor. Michonne was petrified and tried to remain as motionless as possible. Unfortunately for her, Philip possessed a very good nose. The very moment he caught a mere whiff of the stench emitting from Michonne's dirty ass, he lunged towards the cupboard behind which she had been hiding. With animalistic viciousness, he tackled Michonne and pinned her to the ground.
"You ungrateful little cunt," he hissed at her. "I offered you shelter, and this is how you repay me!? You fucking fuck whore murdered my daughter! I'll make you pay the ultimate price. You will be begging for death long before I'm through with you! Fucking whore, I hate, my fuck, do I hate you! I want to kill you ten-thousand different ways! My daughter will be avenged, and then, we shall have peace."
"You're wrong, you idiot! Dat wasn't your daughter any more, she had become a zombiepombie! I merely ended her suffering, as I will end yours. You are delusional and wrong," blurbled Michonne while she struggled to free herself of Philip's powerful grip.
"Shut up, bitch," roared the Governor full of rage. "MERLE, MARTINEZ, GET OVER HERE!"
Instantly, the two powerful henchmen came stomping into the room and took up position on either side of Michonne. "Take her into the chamber of pain," roared the Governor, "then, I will show her the prize for defying my will!"
The two burly henchmen gripped Michonne by her arms and dragged her into the dark and dangerously damp dungeons of Woodbury, where Michonne was soon to pay for her insolence and overall asshole-ishness. Her vision went blurry with hatred, and she could only vaguely make out the outlines of the pipes that lined the tunnel. The sinister atmosphere of absolute silence that hung between the Governor and his men made even one as doofy as Michonne realise the kind of serious trouble she was in.
The thralls of justice lead her into a dark chamber that was entirely bare, save for a menacing looking A-frame. It wasn't before long, and Michonne was safely secured to the punishment fram with leather ankle and wrist straps. While Michonne tried in vain to loosen her restraints, Martinez and Merle left the underground room. Meanwhile, Philip began undoing his fly while he whistled to himself.
Michonne rolled her eyes in a retarded fashion. "So, you're gonna rape me with da tiny whitebread dick of yours, eh?"
The Governor snorted: "Rape you? What a dirty little mind you have, cunt. For one thing, raping someone would be quite beneath me, I assure you. For another, I wouldn't even touch one such as you with a ten foot pole. No, Michonne, you will suffer a fate that is indeed quite appropriate for what you have done, I'd say."
Michonne's slow mind took a few moments to process what she had just heard. Only when she raised her head and saw the Governor stand in front of her with his legs well apart, giant cock in hand, did she realise what was about to happen.
"Oh, no, you wouldn't dare, bruta," she screamed in a terrified voice.
Philip coldly replied: "Oh, but I would. And I do!"
And then he started pissing on Michonne. The yellow jet of piss that shot out of his huge, uncircumcised cock hit the bound slut right in the face. The urine burned in her eyes and its haunting smell filled her nostrils. Stupid as she was, Michonne tried to open her mouth in order to beg of the Governor to stop or at least end her miserable little life, but the very moment her lips parted, the urine entered her oral cavity. The dirty whore Michonne gasped and choked, that was how overwhelmingly strong the taste of Philip's piss was.
Tears of impotent anger were streaming down her cheeks and buttocks, while Phillip walked around the bondaged Mary Sue, pissing at her from every direction a little. Michonne struggled in vain against the straps that held her against the A-frame. She couldn't believe that was happening to her – to HER, the great Michonne, who always knew what the right decision was, who could effortlessly defeat every opponent and was oh so strong and independent. If she just could somehow escape from her bonds, she would tear that man whose daughter she had murdered a new one. But the masterfully crafted restraints kept her in place, and so she had to endure the seemingly unending flood of urine that the Governor pissed on her. And, by God, piss he did! He pissed into Michonne's ears and eyes, he filled her mouth with urine at point blank range, he gave her shit-stained ass a good golden showering and he crouched down at her side to whizz on her ugly sagging tits.
At long last, Philip ran out of urine, his bladder fully emptied, and Michonne reduced to a whinging coward, afraid of what other punishments the Governor would have in store for her.
"Now, thou hast tasted the bitter taste of your guilt. However, thy punishment beeth not yet completed. By my hand, I shall besmear thee even further for slaying me beloved daughter!"
With those refined words, Philip opened a compartment at the back of the murky room and took out an industrial air compressor, which he set up next to Michonmne. "Lift thine eyes and behold thy doom," he said coldly, while he held the air compressors nozzle in front of Michonne's horrified face. Then, he jammed the nozzle into Michonne's stinky ass and switched on the air pump.
"Nooooo, plox, nooooo...," whined Michonne, as her bowels began to stretch agonisingly. Her lower body swelled at an alarming rate.
"There is no mercy for thee, Michonne, for thou hast slain me daughter. Prepare to meet thy maker," Philip replied. As he set the air pump to the highest setting, he purred: "Farewell, sweet trull, and a flight of angels sing thee to thy rest."
Then, Michonne exploded. Her swollen lower body ruptured with the force of a tsunami, and her extremities were blasted across the room. Her ugly head was launched to the ceiling, where it slammed against the beams with such force that it, too, exploded.
Merle and Martinez, who had been waiting outside the door, came bursting in, alarmed by the sound of the powerful blast. "Oi! Where did that cunt Michonne go?" Martinez asked confused. The Governor just smirked, pleased with himself and his work, and said: "Well, she always did have an inflated opinion of herself." (AN: Yeah, I totally stole that joke from James Bond, now shut up!)
After that, peace returned to Woodbury. Under Philip's wise guidance, Woodbury went on to become a prosperous, flourishing city-state and a beacon of light to all those, who wished to rebuild society. Over the years, the town grew to four times its original size, and its well trained militia kept the citizens safe from zombiepombies and scavengers like Michonne alike.
At the age of 71, Philip resigned from his job as Governor, ceding power to his eldest son, who would carry on his father's noble work. However, as it was in the nature of an active man like Philip, he could not remain unoccupied for long. After his retirement, he began writing masterfully-crafted poetry about the struggle for wealth, power and glory in a changing world. The citizens of Woodbury loved his writings and he read his poems to them every Sunday, one more beautiful and divine than the other. When he finally died a peaceful death, he passed on happily, knowing that he had taken good care of his citizens and that his daughter had been avenged by his hand.
THE END
AN So, that was me first story? How did you like it? Plox review, but no flames, okay?
(Also: not racist)