THE TOURNAMENT
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is an alternate universe story. I assure you all of the poses you see used here will eventually be used in a wide variety of Green Tower City Stories. Other than the Introduction, this story will be told mostly in panels, and will work almost like a cartoon if you click through the panels quickly. It is going to go on for a very. VERY. Long time.
I’m Ishmael
the Fourth I am. Ishmael the Fourth I am
I am. I got married to the…(Ok, More
about that later.)
It is the
early morning of the 20th of January in the year 2475. I am in my bedchamber, which is the entire
topmost floor of The Green Tower. My bed
is empty, which I have to admit, every once in a while, is kind of nice. I am EXTREMELY well rested, which is good
as this is going to be a LONG and tiring day.
For the first time in a while the floors and walls of the room are not
splattered in blood and there are no dead girls laying sprawled out on the
floor. My Queen of the last 3 months is
pregnant at last, so she has left for Queensland, taking her possessions with
her (which include 4 slaves she took from Death Matches.) She will return in a year but will have to
fight her way back to the top if she wants to be my Queen again. I liked her a lot. She was a SAVAGE brawler, as evidenced by the
fact that she put down my last Queen and killed off 12 more-bedroom challengers
over the last 3 months. Without a doubt
she is a SUPERIOR woman and fucking her nightly has been Heaven. I wouldn’t complain if she made it back up
here again, nor will I be surprised.
The child (or
twins as it turned out last time) will be raised in Queensland. Unless the child is a boy, they will never
know who their father is, nor will I know who they are. (It will most likely be a girl, though it is
hoped that before I die I will manage to produce at least one son, as has every
Ishmael before me (otherwise, obviously, I wouldn’t be here.) This may seem cruel, but it serves a
purpose. Given their maternal lineage,
they will almost certainly want to become fighters themselves someday, which
means either myself or one of my offspring (if I ever produce a “Miracle Son”)
may in fact end up having sex with them.
Kind of gross, admittedly, but after all what we don’t know won’t hurt
us. As far as I know, some of the women
I have had sex with over the years could be….well better not to think about it.
And so, the
time has arrived for another Tournament.
I start a pot of coffee and go take my first look out the window,
looking down into the courtyard some 1000 feet below. It is FILLED with 300 topless women between
the ages of 18 and 42. It’s kind of hard
to see what’s going on all the way down there so I switch on the video monitors
which will show me all the action going on out in the Courtyard. My God there are SOOO many gorgeous women! And they are all here to fight over ME! To the DEATH!
And the weirdest thing is they all WANT to do this! Their whole lives revolve around killing
other female fighters. They have all been selected based on my
personal standards of attractiveness (which are relatively loose to be honest)
and all must have SOME sort of fighting experience or at least have
training.) Their first names are all
entered into a big lottery, and as they are randomly selected, they will enter
the tower to go to the first floor, where the first round of fighting will take
place. The first 300 who showed up
starting at midnight this morning were allowed in. Working their way through the throngs of
women are DOZENS of armed City moderators, walking in pairs. The rules of the Tournament are VERY
strict. There is to be NO fighting of
ANY kind in the courtyard. If a fight
breaks out (and it does frequently since there are many mortal enemies mixed
into the crowd) the City Moderators will set upon them immediately and execute
them. At that point the next two women
outside the gates will be allowed in.
Also, right
up until the time the cage is lowered down over them for their first Death
Match, any girl can back out and leave the Tournament. If they do so before the first round, they
will not be ridiculed in any way, as even entering the Courtyard on Tournament
Day is seen as an act of courage.
Chickening
out right before the match up or in a later round, on the other hand, will
ensure the fighter is ridiculed everywhere she goes and will most likely be the
end of her fighting career in a MUCH worse way than being killed in combat. (Every fighting girl hopes her end comes in a
battle, though it is a common saying that one always hopes for it to not be today.)
Outside the
walled in courtyard topless women line the street as far as I can see, all
hoping to get into the Tournament because of “Early Exits.” They are all being
well behaved, as there are City Mods patrolling the street as well and will not
tolerate ANY unsanctioned violence once the women are within a few hundred
yards of the Castle Entryway.
The
breakdown of the Tournament is as follows.
The 300 women inside the Courtyard each have their name listed on a registry. I have a computerized version on me that if I press a button, two of the names will randomly be selected. These two fighters will be called out, and directed to enter the Tower from opposite ends, each getting their own walkway towards the fighting area. Unless they see each other being selected and escorted into the Tower by the Mods, they will not know who their opponent will be until they meet up on the mattress. This is the time when girls are most likely to opt out of the Tournament, and the women waiting in line to enter the Courtyard are hoping this will happen. When it does I simply punch the button on my registry one time and another fighter will be selected. (The registry updates itself automatically if fighters switch.)
Round One is
sponsored by The Bloody Mattress and takes place on the 1st floor of
the Big Tower. Bleachers encircle the
interior of the huge round chamber and are PACKED with bloodthirsty female
fight spectators who paid a pretty penny to watch the Tournament on person.
The
Tournament has STRICT rules which must be followed at all times by all
combatants. If ANY combatant violates
ANY of the directives given by the MC over the loudspeaker, BOTH combatants
will be executed immediately by the 4 City Mods surrounding the fighting
area. Their bodies will be dragged out
of the Courtyard and tossed to the Muto-Dogs. If the Tournament has not yet
moved beyond the end of the first round, 2 more fighters will be allowed in
from outside the Courtyard. Needless to say, this doesn’t happen often, but I
guarantee it will at LEAST once during the course of the Tournament. Very few if any of these girls like each
other, and many of them have numerous grudges against the other combatants and simply
CAN’T wait to tear into each other.
Fights in
this round will be 1 on 1, and to the death.
No slave taking is to be allowed in this round, though it will most
likely be allowed in later rounds. Slight differences will be announced for each
individual bout, and the fighters are expected to follow the MC’s instructions
to the letter, or they will be dispatched violently by the Four mods
surrounding the fighting area.
Once the 299th
and 300th fighters have fought and one of them stands victorious
over the other the announcement will be made at the gate that entrance to the
Tournament is officially closed, and any women still waiting will have no
choice but to turn around and head to their respective homes,
disappointed. (The exception is if the fighters manage to
kill each other, in which case the lucky next two girls in line will be
fighting each other to move on the Round Two.
This actually DID happen 3 years ago, and one of those two went on to
win the Tournament, AND survive her Queenship, going out to Queensland pregnant
2 weeks later! That just goes to show that waiting in line outside the gate
until the Entries are closed can pay off!
It will take
a few days to get through the first Round of fights. 300 Girls begin the Round,
150 (or less if there are many double executions or kills) The winner of each
fight will collect the panties of her kill and spend the remainder of the next
bout in my private viewing chamber with me.
We can dry hump and make out, but she is not allowed to take her panties
off for this particular make out session.
(I’ve noticed that many of them will make sure to cream the inside of
their panties, and in their next match up they will try to snuff their opponent
to death with the crusty cum stinky crotch of their panties.)
When the
next fight is over, She will be escorted to her own private bedchamber on one
of the next 3 floors of the Big Tower,
(There are 50 such bedchambers on each of these 3 floors.)
This first
round will typically last anywhere from 5-12 days. The first bell will be rung at 8:00 AM sharp,
and the first fight to begin after 8:00 PM will be the last. There is no time limit for the fights, but
once the “Kill Bell” has been rung (a series of short rapid bell strikes) the
victor has 60 seconds to strike a victory pose, establishing her superiority
over her victim. If she is unable to do
so by the end of the 60 second periods, she will be executed.
At the end
of each day of fighting the mattress, which will by then be a soggy blood,
shit, puke, cum and urine sponge by that time will be dragged out of the
fighting chamber. It will be left
outside to dry and be auctioned off to one of the wealthy spectators the next
morning before First Bell. (I can’t
imagine why someone would want such a disgusting thing, but some of these women
are WEIRD, and ALL are wildly turned on by female combat. It is what has replaced pornography in these
strange times.)
So now I am sitting
in a comfortable chair inside my own private cage just about 10 yards way from
the fighting area, which gives me the best seat in the house of anyone except
the emotionless Moderators, who really don’t seem too interested in much of
anything at all. Even though I am the
one who presses the button that randomly selects the fighters, don’t know who
they will be until they stroll out to the fighting mattress. The women packing the bleachers are BRISTLING
with excitement.
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