The rules embodied the epitome of simplicity. You were placed in an artificial arena constructed of several biospheres connected together, across over a 200 mile radius, ranging from post-apocalyptic metropolis to desert to Amazonian jungle to grassland. The prize was 100 million dollars. However, each time a unique someone, or something in many cases, managed to fuck any of your holes, you lost a chunk of that sweet prize money. Of course, once your rapist fucked you once, they were swiftly deported from the arena. You had to survive the entire month while getting fucked as little as possible by god knows what the game masters filled the enormous arena with.

So there you were, scrambling across a number of crumbled blocks of cement, looking up at the sound of whirring to see a drone hovering perhaps 15 or 20 meters overhead. Of course. The game masters couldn't resist having eyes on you at all times for the audience, who were anxious to see you get ravaged for your first appearance in the games. Damn crowd was thirsty for blood, or more likely, pussy and cock juices. Even though you were only in the arena for 2 hours at this point.

At least the orchestraters of the game outfitted you appropriately. You were wearing khaki pants and a hooded sweatshirt to match, with boots meant for traversing difficult terrain. The backpack slung across your shoulders was camouflaged with mud and dirt to make it more difficult for ravagers, the sex-deprived males of this godforsaken wasteland to thoroughly plunder the depths of your cunt. Inside was a heat-reflecting sleeping bag, a canteen for water, some general first aid materials, and some survival rations. They were even kind enough to arm you with a small pistol and a fully automatic M4, though you only had 2 magazines. If was your responsibility to find more bullets if you chose to fire more than the allotted rounds, which was almost a certainty.

As you made your way across the dilapidated city, you wondered if it made sense to build a personal stronghold in this particular biosphere. True, there were more resources to survive on, but you had no idea how many ravagers were out there, how intelligent they were, and how willing they were to cooperate in order to turn you into a gangbang sex slave for the remainder of the month.

At that thought, you reached for the binoculars hanging off your waist and twiddled with the dials, staring at the jungle bordering the broken city's boundaries. Perhaps it would be safer to make camp in the jungle; perhaps it would be worse. Of course, the inhabitants of the jungle would be less predictable, but they'd also be less intelligent, easier to outwit and easier to avoid. However... getting fucked by an ogre rocking an 18 inch log of a cock was significantly punishing than getting fucked by another human, on both the body and the prize money. The more savage the fuck, the more money the gamekeepers would siphon away. So you could get fucked by a human here and there and lose a million, perhaps 2 if your rapist was a big black cocked stud, but getting fucked by an enormous ogre? Say goodbye walking for at least twelve hours, and say goodbye 10 million dollars.

There was the sound of motorcycles in the distance. The ravagers were on the hunt. Perhaps it would be prudent to hide, then move to the jungle. Perhaps just avoid them for now, figure out the best location to build your stronghold. Perhaps it would be smarter to stalk them, see what sort of gear and food they had acquired.

The choice was yours. Where to start?

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