Portal Project - The Lottery Games

As the mass of naked females surged forward, a small number of them-- perhaps as many as a dozen or more-- stood quietly to the side. After all of the runners had cleared the starting line, they turned towards the stadium-like bleachers which were filled with cheering men. They bowed their heads and then dropped to their knees and bowed down until their foreheads touched the ground.

"Well, you really hate to see that," intoned Leroy, the sportscaster whose image was now in the corner of the screen, "but every year there are some selectees who know that they have no chance of winning and refuse to run. They know they will be severely punished and their value as slaves will be greatly reduced, but I guess they feel they would rather endure that than risk injury or death in the games."

A large number of men dressed in black jumpsuits with yellow trim ran out onto the track. "The words on the back say 'Security,' said Ruthie.

Another group of men in similar jumpsuits with orange trim scrambled onto the track pushing small carts with punishment stocks on them. "Their suits say 'Stagecrew' or something like that," Ruthie explained.

None of the women struggled as the security men led them over to the stocks and put them in place. Their heads and hands were held securely and a padded post pushed their asses high in the air. There were fourteen in all, and they were now in a line with their asses pointed toward the stadium seats.

Fourteen men carrying leather or wooden paddles walked slowly onto the track. "We are going to stay with this for a few minutes," said the announcer. "Those who purchased specialty tickets for this event have first rights for any slaves which are created at this point. These men drew the last fourteen numbers, so they have the rights to these lowest-ranking slaves. By administering the punishments, they are claiming their slaves."

The main announcer cut in, "I see that one of them is carrying a bullwhip rather than a paddle."

"That's right, Harold," the announcer on screen answered. "He must have ticket 299, because the bullwhip is allowed only for the lowest-ranking slave. I personally think that all of these early losers should be lowest, but the judges who are monitoring the race give that dis-honor to the first number that is entered on the tally board as the slaves drop out of the race. It was probably the selectee whose knees first touched the ground. "

The fourteen men lined up, one behind each of the now bound slaves. A figure in a black jumpsuit with green trim raised his arm. When he snapped his arm down, the first blow was delivered.

"That's one of the judges," said Ruthie.

"We sort of guessed that," answered another of the techies.

"Shut up, all of you!" snapped the Lieutenant Colonel. "I'm trying to watch this!"

When all eyes suddenly shifted to him, he added, "We need to understand this other world, don't we?" Then he asked, "Is that the best you can do with the volume?"

In response, Ruthie moved the odd-looking mouse pointer over to the corner of the screen and the screams of the women filled the room.

On the screen, the cameraman was moving down the row of women taking closeups of each of their faces as the blows fell. When he got to the last woman, she was screaming continuously and almost incoherently as the bullwhip slammed into her ass. In the background, you could hear the crowd counting, "ten, eleven, twelve..."

"We are going to rejoin the action on the track," intoned the announcer. "If you want to see and hear all fifty strokes, you can purchase the full video. That punishment, as well as all punishments during the race are included with that package."

The screen cut to the herd of women now running across what was apparently a very muddy field. "They have passed the two mile mark and entered the first thinning point," said the announcer excitedly. "Just ahead is the pig walk."

As he said that, the first of the women reached an area of mud which seemed to have iron bars lying flat across supports which kept them about three feet off the ground. The bars were eight or ten inches apart and about fifty yards long, running in the same direction as the track. The first woman threw herself down on the ground, slid beneath the bars in the muck, and began frantically crawling on her stomach.

"It looks like some of the selectees know the importance of being in the first one hundred through the pig walk," the announcer observed. "As soon as the one-hundredth selectee stands up on the other side of the barred area, the muck beneath the grating is electrified."

He laughed slightly, "The pulses will get stronger until by the time the 275th selectee stands up at the other end of the troughs, it will be almost impossible for the selectees still in the mud to move because of the muscle spasms. But that won't make much difference, because anyone beyond 275 will be out of the race and in the punishment stocks."

As he was talking, the cameras zoomed in for a closeup as the women in the mud began screaming. Evidently the electricity was flowing through the mud because they all twitched and screamed at the same time. Several fell on their faces into the muck. One woman pulled herself up on top of the girl in front of her and began pulling herself rapidly across the backs of the other women. The mud was evidently very slick because she seemed to slide almost effortlessly along.

"We've never seen that move before," shouted the announcer. He held his earpiece more tightly to his ear and said, "The judges are saying that it is not specifically forbidden, so she won't be disqualified, but that will be part of the post-race meeting discussions and may be banned for next year."

The camera was now in a closeup shot following the woman as she slid over the backs of her fellow selectees. She was almost at the end when the woman she was attempting to slide over raised up and pushed her firmly against the overhead bars. She screamed loudly as she thrashed and twitched violently.

"Oh!" yelled the announcer. "The judges might not have to do anything about it after all! The selectees themselves will take care of it in the future. Those upper bars are alternately electrified and touching two of them at the same time delivers a really severe shock. That selectee is going to be lucky to be able to walk, let alone run, when she gets out of the trough."

His prediction showed to be true as the camera followed the sliding woman as she dragged herself out from under the bars. She stood up on very wobbly legs and fell back to the ground several times before stumbling on with the rest of the pack. There were a series of gates a few hundred yards past the pig walk, and most of the field had passed her before she had gone more than half that distance. The gates snapped shut just before she reached them.

"There were fourteen who dropped out at the start, so there should be eleven at this elimination point," the announcer explained. There were a half-dozen women standing at the gates. The remaining five were still under the bars screaming. Evidently the shocks were too great and too rapid for them to even move.

Several of the crewmen ran out onto the bars carrying ropes. Evidently the voltage on the bars themselves was shut off or they were wearing special clothing and boots. In any case, they reached down between the bars and looped the ropes over the wrists of the women thrashing in the mud beneath them. Walking down to the end of the bars and feeding the rope under the spacers and supports along the way brought the rope out from the end of the troughs. A different crewman standing in the muck at the end of the grating immediately pulled the women out and lifted them to their feet. Security men met them then led the women over to the punishment stocks.

"We are going to keep up with the race," said the announcer, "but their punishments are also a part of the available complete video package."

The image switched to a section of the course which seemed to have a wall across it. There were seven openings in the wall which led through long hallway-like slots that extended for about a hundred feet past the wall. The pack was racing toward the wall and those who had arrived were jostling and struggling for position to get through. The process was relatively slow because there were some sort of bars across the openings about three or four feet off the ground. The bars seemed to be on a belt or chain drive system because they moved slowly through the slot to the other end before looping back at the top of the opening.

"Again, there is real incentive to be in the first one hundred through the slots," explained the announcer, "because the canes activate when the one hundredth selectee exits the slots."

Harold, the primary announcer, suddenly appeared in the corner of the screen, "Once they come out the of the slots, it is a flat-out race the mile and a half to the final gates which lead back into the stadium. Those gates will close as soon as the one hundredth selectee goes through them."

Screams could now be heard from the women in the slots. As they moved through the narrow hallways bent over clutching the bar in front of them, canes were whipping out from the walls snapping into their asses every few feet.

"Oh," responded the announcer who had been describing the race. "It looks like we have some more selectees refusing to continue." He laughed. "They would have been better off refusing at the start. At least there the punishment was done with paddles. Here it will be done with a cane.

"Even so," he continued, "they would be better off going through the slots. They would only get twenty or thirty swats with the cane in the slots. Now they are definitely going to get fifty in the punishment stocks."

"That's true, Leroy," Harold's voice answered, "but on the other side of the slots there is still fifty swats with a punishment paddle awaiting those who don't make it through those final gates with the first one hundred. And the paddles at this point are specially designed with holes and slots to increase the pain."

"You have a point there, Harold," Leroy responded. "I guess you have to decide if fifty with the cane is better or worse than twenty or so with a cane plus an additional fifty with the paddles." He laughed again in his artificial way, "I'm glad I don't have to make that choice."

As the camera switched to a shot of the women running for the final gates he continued, "Remember, the caning and spanking punishments will be included in the full video when you purchase it." The image then switched to a camera on the other side of one of the gates as it zoomed in on the face of one of the trailing women. Her face was contorted in anger as the gate slammed shut on her, driving her back into the crowd behind her. You could hear her screams of frustration as she grabbed the bars and attempted to push or pull the gate back open.

That camera was now panning across the one hundred women who had made it through the gates. They were standing in the middle of the stadium, muddy, trembling, bent over, and panting with exhaustion. The chief announcer's face appeared in the corner. "That ends day one's elimination, our highlights and the action for day two will resume following this word from Bear Claw, the Real Man's Beer."

***

Again, the commercial, itself, had been edited out. After a very brief black screen, the image returned with the primary announcer, Harold, standing high in a large circular stadium that was reminiscent of the Roman Coliseum. He pointed down to the arena and said. "You can see the combat arena below me. The selectees have been divided into ten teams of ten each. As you can see, there are ten home areas, each with ten restraint poles mounted on the outer circle. The idea is simple. You capture as many of your opponents as you can without being captured yourself. Once seventy-five restraint poles are filled, the round is over."

Another announcer appeared in the corner of the screen. He said, "And remember, in the unlikely event that a team can fill their poles, that team, or any remaining members of that team who are still free, are exempt from further battle and are automatically moved into the next round."

"That's right, Bill," bubbled Harold, "but we haven't had a team move intact into the third round in over twenty years." Loud music began to blare and he had to shout to be heard over the sound of bugles and drums. "The selectees are marching in now," he yelled. "As soon as the music stops, the games begin. Take it away. Bill!"

The selectees marched more or less in time to the music. Each woman had two large bands of color painted around her abdomen. One half of them had a red stripe just below their breasts, the other half had blue. Beneath that was either white, yellow, gray, brown or black. As they entered, they circled around to the home area that matched the colors painted on their bodies and stood in front of one of the poles which also carried their team colors.

When the music stopped, most of them immediately ran toward the center of the arena and began struggling with other selectees, trying to overpower them and drag them back to the posts. Three of the teams, however, held back. They gathered into a large group and moved as one toward the team on their left. Since they were fighting as a unit while all the others were fighting individually, the outcome was predictable.

"That is amazing," shouted Bill. "I have never seen teams work together like this before. They must have planned this overnight in the holding pens. Look at how rapidly they are scooping up opponents."

It was only a few moments before they had carried a dozen captives back to their posts and soon there were six women hanging from the restraints of the poles of the red-white and red-gray teams. It was obvious from the body motions of the red-yellow team that they expected them to now get captives for their posts, but that was not the case. Instead, the red-whites and red-grays turned on them and quickly bound them to the red-white and red-gray posts.

"Unbelievable! Unbelievable! Unbelievable!" the announcer was chanting. "TWO teams have protected themselves and moved totally intact into the next round."

"I see that they made sure that none of the red-yellows would be there to perhaps get revenge in the next round," observed Harold with a laugh. "I have never seen selectees restrained on their own posts before, but there are two red-yellows hanging from their own red-yellow posts today."

A loud klaxon-style horn buzzed loudly and all of the women suddenly stood still. "We have reached seventy-five captives," screamed Bill. "This is the fastest this round has ever gone. The judges may have to make some new rules about this for next year just to keep the games interesting."

"I don't know," said Harold. "After they betrayed their own partner team like that, it might be really tough to get anyone to trust another team next year. I predict the judges will wait at least another year before making any changes in the rules. Everyone will be on the edge of their seats next year waiting to see if any of the teams will work together and then who will betray whom first."

"That would probably be best for the ratings," agreed Bill. "It is going to be interesting to see what surprises these selectees might have in store for us in the next round as the field is reduced to ten."

"In the meantime," intoned Harold, "let's look at the beginning of the punishment phase for this round. I understand that Wild Whip William is going to be doing the honors."

As he spoke a man dressed in what looked like a white cowboy outfit walked out into the arena. He had a whip in each hand and was snapping and cracking them in the air as he walked. He walked first over to the two women hanging from their own posts and cracked the whips repeatedly just short of touching them. The crowd roared their approval. The two captives both twisted and turned so that they were facing the posts and pressed their bodies tightly against the rough wood.

"Twenty on the back or ten on the front," came a loud voice from the speaker system. A few of the restrained women turned to face away from their post, but most followed the example of the two red-yellows and pressed the front of their bodies tightly against the uprights to which they were bound.

As Wild Whip snapped his whips against the bodies of the two women, their screams filled the stadium. When the twentieth blow had fallen from each hand, another nine men, also dressed in white cowboy outfits, came running into the arena snapping whips as they ran.

"Remember," Bill once again reminded the audience, "you can watch the complete punishments of all seventy-five eliminated selectees by purchasing the video package."

"And we will be back with even more action." Harold said, "following this word from Eversharp, the sharpest name in shaving."

The screen once again faded to black.

***

"This phase is all about bodily control," explained a new announcer as the image returned.

The familiar face of Harold then appeared in the corner of the screen and said, "That's right, Frank. The judges have separated the remaining twenty-five selectees into ten groups. Five of those groups are two women groupings, the other five are groups of three, but the object is the same for all of them."

"Yes, Harold," Frank replied. "And that object is to make the other selectee lose control before you do using hand... tongue... body... whatever it takes to force the other selectee to orgasm before she does the same to you."

"It is not unusual for two of the selectees to work as a team and overpower the third in this competition," added Harold. "And there is nothing in the rules against that, but as soon as the third selectee is out of the ring, it becomes a one-on-one competition."

"Because we are down to so few competitors," Frank said quietly. "There are only two combat rings. That means we will have five rounds to bring us down to the quarter-final ten."

There were two square platforms set up in the middle of the stadium. Each looked very much like a boxing or wrestling ring, even to the ropes which were strung tightly from four posts at the corners.

As the women for the first round were being led into the arena, Frank appeared again on the screen. There was another man in a white coat standing with him. "I am with Dr Nelson, who is going to explain to us the steps that have been taken to prevent the scandal of two years ago."

The doctor was holding a tube of some sort in his hand. "I'm sorry to say," he began, "that there was some inappropriate action by game officials two years ago. As you know, there is a lot of both legal and illegal betting on these games and some of the more disreputable elements in our society evidently bribed a medical technician to give higher doses of the erotic stimulant to certain selectees and almost none to one particular selectee."

He held the tube up to the camera. "This year we are using auto-injectors that have been prepared by the stimulant's manufacturer. In addition to that, the injector is connected directly to the scale as the selectee is weighed so that the proper dose is automatically calculated. And just to make sure, the shot is given before the selectee steps off the scale." He lowered the tube and completed his explanation by saying, "All of the injections will be given simultaneously to all participants just before they enter the ring, so all of the selectees will be equally aroused during the competition."

Frank turned toward the camera and said, "That is good news for all you out there who have bets on this round."

Harold appeared in the corner of the screen and added, "And bad news for the bookies who thought that they could fix these games." He paused a few moments and then said, "Tell us about the action, Frank."