The Program - Chapter Two free porn video
Battle Royale.
Officially known as The Program. The two words nobody in school ever
wants to hear, because once you're in this particular program, you only
have one chance of coming out alive, and that is when all your classmates
are dead. We all know that it exists although we're not sure why, it's
an urban legend whispered about in out of the way places and hinted at in
the media. Everyone knows what happens but almost noone knows the
details, and the government likes to keep it that way. A few details are
deliberately released-we know how the victims died but not who killed
them.
Once a year a class is chosen secretly by random lottery, and that class
is abducted by the army and taken to a remote place where they are given
random weapons and told to kill each other. The survivor is paraded in
the media for five minutes of fame wearing a balaclava, and then is given
a new house in another part of the country and a new name and pension and
vanishes into obscurity. That much is made known, but the details of who
killed who and the reason why this Program is done at all remain a
secret.
You might ask why every sixteen year old does not boycott school en masse
if they know that they could be kidnapped at any time within the school
year and made to fight their classmates to the death. First, protesting
against this government always has bad and sometimes fatal results. Those
who do tend to disappear for good. There are microphones fixed to the CC
cameras in the street so that the police can hear one's every word-
everyone knows that. Also, we all need to pass our exams to have a chance
of getting a decent job, but lastly, nearly everyone thinks that it'll
never happen to my class until it does.
I thought it was a field trip until they introduced sleeping gas into the
bus, and I woke up like the others with a metal collar clamped firmly
around my neck. Surrounding the class, each of who now wore a collar like
I did, were soldiers with their rifles drawn and fixed bayonets. At a
table sat a plump and matronly woman who wore the badge of the government
on her lapel.
"Good evening, class 4C of Craigness Secondary School. You are the lucky
ones chosen for the Program of 2007, and I am Mrs Verney, your
instructor."
It took a short time to sink in.
Sooner or later one of my classmates is going to kill me, and I'm not
going to come out of this alive. I'll never see my parents or my
girlfriend again. I'm going to die here.
The others must have been thinking the same way as me. Some of them
screamed, a couple broke down in tears and hugged each other, and
another, one of the tougher boys in the class, tried to attack the man
and got a rifle butt smacked over his head for his pains. Then she told
us the rules of the Program.
"Listen up. First, don't pull at those collars, or they will explode and
take your necks with them. You have three days starting from when you
leave this building...to kill each other. You will each be issued with a
bag containing two small bottles of water, a small loaf of bread, a pen,
map of the island where you are, a torch and a random weapon. Every six
hours I will announce two new danger zones-should you enter one of them
your collar will explode, I will also tell you the names of the dead.
Should more then one of you still be alive in seventy-two hours from now,
then all your collars will explode and there will be no winner."
"Two minutes after you leave this school, it and the area for five
hundred feet around it will become a danger zone, so if you were planning
on getting your weapons, joining up and attacking us, you can forget it.
You will fight each other, not the government. By the way, your parents
have been informed of your fate."
Thirty-one others. A one in thirty-one chance of life-there is no way a
weakling like me can win this. Even if I get a gun, I'm not going to win,
and they'll send me back to my parents in a coffin. My life is over.
When she had finished and we were all staring at each other in horror he
looked at me, smiled and said, "For you, a different fate awaits, if you
choose to accept it. A fate that will allow you to stay alive."
I nodded and there were howls of protest from the others. She turned to
them. "Don't worry, the chances are that he'll fail and be sent out there
with the rest of you, and even if he succeeds he'll probably wish he had
chosen to fight. Now I am going to read your names in alphabetical order,
which is the order in which you will leave the building once every two
minutes. Once you go outside, you are fair game."
I stood there and watched as my classmates walked out to what would be
their deaths, glaring at me with hatred in their eyes. Some ran out as
fast as they could, some strolled or strutted outside, one kissed his
girlfriend goodbye. When the last of them had gone, the woman ordered the
soldiers to leave the room and then turned to me and took me aside.
"Listen up. The only reason why you are being given this chance to live
is because my Program this year had to be one with a single-sex class. A
couple of days ago I had an argument with my daughter, a really bad one.
She...she jumped out of the car...whilst we were on the motorway. And..."
She wiped a tear from her eye. "Somebody ran her over and didn't stop. I
showed my Government Seal to the police when they arrived and used my
position to prevent the accident being reported. I had my daughter
quietly buried under another name. I told my husband that our daughter
had gone to stay with friends for a couple of weeks as she had planned to
do anyway. Three days later the police caught up with the driver and
executed him on the spot, but of course that did not bring my daughter
back. That's your job."
"My job? I'm male, for a start."
"I know, I would have much preferred a girl, believe me, but I got
lumbered with a single sex class for the Program this year. I can't wait
another year, as there is no way that I could explain my daughter's
absence to my husband. I love my husband, and if he learns what happened
to our daughter, he'll blame me and he won't love me anymore. Which is
where you come in. You can be issued with a bag like the others have and
go out there and who knows, you might even survive and return to your
parents. Or you can live my daughter's life for her. As her, and I mean
as her. You have the choice, go out and fight like a man, or accept a new
life as my daughter."
"I...I will do it rather then die, but I don't see how I can do it
properly."
"Oh, don't worry, I'll train you properly. I want you to stay here with
me and watch the Battle, in between intervals of training for your new
life, so that you can view the deaths of your friends. Don't worry,
you'll find new friends to replace them, my little Princess."
Over the next three days, as my classmates fought and died outside, and
as their bodies were recovered, Mrs Verney taught me my new role. First
she taught me the basics, such as how to walk like a girl without
overdoing it, and how to sit in a short dress without exposing myself and
blowing my cover. I could hardly believe it that she was teaching me
etiquette whilst my fellow classmates were out there fighting and dying
but I held in my rage.
"Walk tall, you're one of the elite now, with a great life ahead of you.
When you meet your new father, you will tell him that you were hit by a
car crossing the road and were in hospital for four days, but that you
have fully recovered but that the doctors might want to check on you
later." She drilled me as well and as repetitively as a sergeant drills
his troops, making me walk with a book upon my head, teaching me how to
walk like her daughter, how to adopt her mannerisms, how to answer any
awkward questions and what her daughter thought politically. (Not, it
must be added, that anyone in this country dares to talk about politics
much.) Then she told me who my friends were and who my boyfriend was.
"I am not having a boyfriend! I'm not gay..."
She took a control out of her pocket and my collar began to bleep. I knew
what they could do because she had blown up an empty collar earlier in
front of me. The explosion was not large but it was enough to sever a
human neck. I got down on my knees and begged for her to spare my life,
and she turned the collar off She snapped at me "I've known your
boyfriend for years and he is a genuinely good person who really does
love you for who you are. There is no danger of him mistreating you in
any way, and anyway, I am not having a lesbian daughter. You will stay
with him and make him believe that you love him. If you so much as wipe
away one of his kisses and I find out about it, there will be trouble."
In between bouts of training, she would give me the reports of how my
class were doing, and every six hours she would announce the deaths that
had taken place over a microphone system that could be heard over the
entire island. That night I considered trying to break the lock on the
room that she had locked me into. But if I did somehow break down the
door without being heard and escape from the building, I would be unarmed
on an island that held multiple killers who would kill me as soon as they
saw me.
My stomach churned as I thought about having to be with my boyfriend-
having to go out on dates with him, having to kiss him and cuddle him and
tell him how much I love him despite feeling disgusted inside. And then
an even more horrible thought came to me, that my mother would sooner or
later arrange for me to have the surgery that would make me appear to be
a real girl, so that my boyfriend could make love to me. If that happened
even if I escaped I could of course never have children of my own .I
winced at the thought of being forced under the surgeon's knife and
nearly requested to be sent out to fight there and then, but decided that
Mrs Verney would most likely blow up my collar.
Day one and two had been about all the little details but day three was
worse. That was the day she dressed me up. After making me strip she made
me put on a push-up bra with fake breasts inside and a kind of girdle
that would make my body appear to have a female shape. She dressed me in
a green shirt of the finest silk, with white trousers and long brown
snakeskin boots. Then it was time for the jewellery. Amber clip-on
earrings, an amber ring set in gold, an amber bracelet for each wrist, an
amber necklace. Then to my relief she took off my collar. I thought of
trying to knock her out, saw the pistol on her belt and decided against
trying to fight.
I'll play along, was what I thought, and the moment I get out of here
I'll flee to my parents and we can get out of town if need be. Then my
new mother fitted a flat golden necklace to my neck. "This is a replica
of the necklace your boyfriend gave to you-unlike the original version,
it is not only explosive but it has a few other little things to keep you
in line. It can shock you at the touch of a button, and I can use it in
conjunction with a small hand held tracker to find out whenever you go. A
little microphone attacked to the world's smallest recorder monitors
everything you say, so I'll know if you try anything. It's time for your
make-up. My daughter didn't use much of it except at special occasions,
but she used lipstick, and so will you."
After shaving me and using foundation to cover any stubble she smoothed
some pink lipstick on my lips, which felt all waxy, and I longed to wipe
it away. My mother carefully explained how to avoid putting on too much
and looking like a clown, and placed a long brown wig upon my head. When
I looked in the mirror I was unable to recognise myself. A young pretty
well dressed girl stood there. My mother handed me a white handbag.
"You'll find in there everything you might need in a hurry." There was a
knock on the door.
"Come in."
A sergeant walked in and saluted. "The Program is over, Boy #5, George
Nichols, won the game with seven killings to his name, five boys and two
girls, one of which was his girlfriend."
"Bring him in."
"What will happen to him?" I asked.
"You know the drill. After being carefully checked for hidden weapons,
he'll have a few minutes of fame in front of the press, wearing a
balaclava. Then he and his family will be treated like key witnesses in
cases against organized crime. They will be rehoused in another town
under new identities with new, reasonably good, jobs, and he will get a
pension and a signed card from the President. If he then speaks out and
we find out about it, he will be conscripted and sent to where the
fighting and dying never ends."
I shivered when they brought George in. He had a small cut on his arm and
a look of terrible sadness mixed with anger on his face. He looked me up
and down but didn't recognise me as I had been disguised far too well.
They dragged him out and my new mother told me to wait and left me alone.
I fingered the golden necklace and checked out what was in my handbag.
There were two lipsticks, a handkerchief, a mobile phone, a purse that
was full of banknotes and also had a banker's card, various bits of junk
and a diary, the one that I am writing in now.
She came back to me. "Open your mouth, Eleanor." I did so and she sprayed
something into it that made me cough and choke for a while. "This will
make you sound like my daughter."
"What?" The voice that came out of my mouth was that of a girl my age.
"It was meant for something else entirely, soothing sore throats, but was
never put on the market because of the side effect of making males sound
female. The Government kept a small amount of it in case it was ever
needed for such a purpose. Now it's time for us to go home, your new
father and boyfriend will be waiting for you."
I must go now, my boyfriend is calling me to go out on a date with him.
I'm dreading it.
Thomas McGhie, known to all as Eleanor Verney.
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