The Cummer Games (IC thread)

OOC - if you are interested in joining the games please see the OOC thread, contributions/characters welcome. Please PM or post in the OOC thread to find out more.

IC:

As the sun slowly dips down behind the horizon, casting the world into the darkness known as night, there is an uneasy tension hanging in the air. Tomorrow will see tributes from across the land sent to the capital, once there they will participate in the crudest of games. The games designed to squash the rebellious feelings of a nation, to control the population numbers and to give a sick and twisted nobility a greater sense of power with a little perversion thrown in for good measure.

Billed to the masses as a fantastic opportunity for the winning district, a chance to rebuild, to grow and maybe to become strong again. Of course to those in the know it is about money, corruption, power and sexual gratification. The games celebrate their fifth anniversary this year, played once every four years> Timed to be just long enough a part for the trauma of the last year to be forgotten by the districts coupled with just enough desperation for the reward to seem so great that those last memories of the horrors are squashed.

The districts are on their last legs, the rebellion not as fresh in people’s minds. The great uprising almost a forgotten memory, too few surviving to understand what used to be. The time of plenty has long gone and now a time of austerity and famine grips the world. The districts barely get by, treated like slaves and given basic rations, to most this is the way it has always been. Add to this the growing shortage of workers, long hours, little food and poor healthcare gradually decreasing the life expectancy.

The birth limit imposed by the capital to prevent the workers getting strong again taking its toll. A strict restriction on pro creation is imposed, some districts close to breaking point. Enforced by stealth, a drug shared through the water preventing pregnancy and reducing sperm potency. This only serves to make the reward more attractive, the victorious nation receiving a six month reprieve on the ridiculous sanction. A chance to increases the population. A chance not to be missed in the poorest of districts.

Of course the capital bosses are clear in their minds, the opportunity to reproduce is merely a backhanded way to renew a work force. The prize sees half a district out of work for three to four months while they give birth and tend to the young. The extra strain seeing that the population is kept in check. The elderly fall further reducing the memoroes of the past, what was... what could be again?

The rich get richer while the poor get poorer. The perfect balance for those with money.

Day breaks, the sun warming the world, yet there is a cold feeling about today. The start of the Cummer Games brings no joy to the crowds now assembling as directed. Filing into the designated squares, the tension hanging in the air as the selection process begins.

Who will be chosen?

As dawn broke Tyson awoke in his shanty of a home. One of the strongest workers in Dis 6 he is called upon for many tasks, from helping build new structures to helps fix the old. That coupled with the fact that he is also a very popular mate with the ladies. The two women beside him only served to remind him that his appetite is never sated. He dressed leaving the two older women to sleep, and headed to the district office where he would be given the day’s rations and a work order. His was given the largest ration but also the longest work order.

Tammy was already awake and already in the throes of what should have been passion but with the people there it was a burning need a bottomless pit what should be fun and fulfilling was a necessity and left the lover only wanting more, worse than any drug they could never get enough sex.

When the horn rang calling the people to the town square they all arrived to hear the news they had dreaded. Dis 6 was probably the worst off of all of the districts. Their need for sex made it so they always fared poorly in the the games. A game where you don’t want to orgasm while fucking all you can to make the others cum is hard enough, couple that with the fact that you are almost hard wired with a desperate need to cum and cum often. Well that makes it nearly impossible. They had gone without a victory the longest of all the districts and their numbers were suffering because of it. The lowest reproductive rate of all the districts made it if they didn’t win soon they would get to the point where they would just die out.

There was almost a riot when the names of the strongest and best looking in all the dis were called. Tyson and Tammy were the future but not for the games the people thought they best served the dis by staying put, not off in some far off land playing in perverted barbaric games.
But no one could deny that they were also the best chance at victory. Their parents knew the day may come where they were called forward to compete so they taught them the secret of edging, keeping the orgasm at bay, and lasting longer than others. This was the best shot the dis had and the people knew it!

KC

Helen, like most of district 8, had hardly slept last night. The fear of being chosen was greatest in district 8. Being chosen to represent the district should be an honour, but here in district 8 engaging in any sexual activities with someone who wasn’t your long term soul mate was frowned upon. Losing at these games brought dishonour to your family.

The games meant a cruel fate for district 8 participants, the only way to come back home was to win. For Helen the stakes were so much higher, she had a husband, two children. She was happy. She wanted to see her children grow and hoped with all her heart it wouldn’t be her turn… not yet… not ever.

The only slight comfort she had was that her children were too young to be selected.

The district reluctantly gathered for the draw, no one wanted to be here, the prospects of winning were slim while the chance of shame and humiliation were high. Silence fell. The names were called. A wail of pain and despair echoed around the town square. The sobs of a mother doomed to be an outcast. Not a word was spoken. All around her felt awkward knowing they couldn’t provide any comfort to her. The guards dragging Helen from the square. She tried to resist longing to stay with her children. Fearful that this could be the last time she would see them.

A father stood, shocked, heart broken, tears dripping down his face as he turned to see the two faces, usually full of joy. Gulping as the inevitable was asked, “Why is mummy sad… where has she gone?” All he could do was hug them. No words spoken, no words could explain.

A slight air of arrogance surrounded Morgan as she took her place on the platform, looking down on the rest of District 3. Her name wouldn’t be in the pot for selection, it may be her first games where she was eligible due to her age, but those who worked with, or rather for her knew how to manipulate the lists.

Whilst there was a buzz on the ground, a mix of people longing to be selected so that they could show the others what they were made of, a chance to prove their dominance and take elevated positions in the district council. Some less keen to go to the games, wanting to stay here and assert their dominance to those around them. Competition was high on the agenda every one feeling like they should be in charge.

The names were called. A look of horror and rage swept across the platform, Morgan’s face almost turning the colour of her hair as she heard her name. How could this be? Who would dare to disobey her? She glanced furiously at her staff, each shrugging their shoulders, looking equally unsure as to how her name had been called.

The guards moved forward to take her, reaching out for her arms to help her in the right direction. Morgan pushed them off, “I can walk on my own,” she scowled. Morgan held her head high, scanning the crowds for any sense of who was responsible for this. Her eyes caught an old advisory, was it him? The stare she fixed him with was enough of a warning. Someone would pay for this. In the games or back home. She would have revenge.

Her fiery red hair mirroring her mood. Fiercely hissing at anyone he dared try to direct her. Morgan would be back and those responsible better hope that the games take the edge of her temper.