(DARK) An eating contest.

(Disclaimer: will contain some fairly sadistic content. Also, this is my first attempt at writing in third person.)

Lena Oxtons life was a living Nightmare.

It hadn’t always been this way.

It was getting more difficult for the permanently 26 year old Ex-Overwatch agent, to remember a time before she was property. A time when she fought alongside her Overwatch teammates as Heroes, protecting the peace.

The only thing that’s still clear as day in her mind, is the last thing she saw of her own world, a single picture like image of a dimension, considered by the people on this alternate earth to be fictional.

Outside her kitchen window it was a foggy early morning in London. Her table, covered with a floral printed cloth was strewn with a half eaten breakfast. She had just finished adjusting her trademark yellow tinted goggles when in the blink of an eye, she woke up on an unfamiliar bed, staring up at a pillowcase of herself tacked to a white ceiling.

It took her a few moments for her brain to even comprehend the instant change in scenery, and when her senses had caught up with her, she remembers looking down in horror to see an Acne ridden teenager brutally **** her.

She can never forget feeling his cock for the first time, her Masters cock, boring into her totally unprepared dry cunt. Scraping back and forth across her sensitive insides.

Lena had tried to scream, but she found her voice was silent. She had tried to kick the boy off of her, but her long slender legs wouldn’t cooperate.

She would later find out that she could indeed still move and talk, but only within what her Master would allow.

A few bits of metal alloy and silicon implanted into her brain had been all that it took to turn Lena into a living sex toy, something less than a woman.

Not that the microchips mattered, in this universe, She wasn’t even legally human in the first place.

For the past six years Lena, aka Tracer, has been at the mercy of her Owners every perverted desire.

She looked out into the gathering crowd below, fidgeting uncomfortably in her cum stained panty-like running shorts and tube top, completely at the mercy of the frigid March air.

She was on a stage, along with nine other so called contestants, no doubt also entered into this humiliating display by their owners.

In her years as a ****, this probably takes the cake as the strangest thing she’s been **** to do. But then, how bad could an eating competition really be?

The noise of crowds, carnival music and happy squealing children filled the air, audible even in this secluded corner of the Fairgrounds, away from underaged eyes.

That is, save for one boy, no older than 10, who was quickly being escorted away from the designated area.

As he went, his eyes turned to spot Lena, and her heart fell a bit upon spotting his shirt, visible under his open puff jacket.

A plain black T emblazoned with the overwatch logo.

The boy shyly waved at her, and despite herself Lena waved back, smiling and having to bite back the instinct to call out one of her iconic catchphrases.

Most so called “Overwatch fans” Lena had the displeasure of meeting in this world were more interested in her ass than her heroism. Maybe, just maybe a child could still view her as something more than meat.

Her optimistic ideas about childhood innocence were only strengthened upon spotting his chaperone, running up to the park employee escorting him with an apologetic look.

Something in Lenas heart screamed at the sight, only coming out of her mouth as a sort of whimper.

It was her, Lena, like a mirror image only distorted, happier.

The other tracer looked just slightly older, having been allowed to age naturally. She was wearing comfortable warm clothing, without a trace of sexualization, and most strikingly of all her smile, cheery, warm even. Affectionate.

This Lena wasn’t just relived to have found the boy after no doubt frantically running around the park, she was happy to see him.

They were close, this wasn’t some hire from a character babysitting agency, she was probably a live in nanny of sorts.

Lena had to fight back tears as the pair walked out of sight. What cruel tide of fate had decided their places? Why was one Lena going home tonight to a family, and the other to an abusive sadist.

Staring where the two once stood a mean, resentful thought bubbled to the surface of Lenas mind.

Wait till he’s older, see how he treats that fucking slag then.

Tears finally began to slide down Lenas face at her own horrible thought, what had she become?

*whap*

Lena winced away from the hit, a slap aimed at the back of her head.

Her masters voice rang out from behind her, and she could feel his hot sickly breath on her ear “you better win today, or you’re getting turned into fucking glue”

She felt her blood run cold at that. He didn’t mean literally turned into glue of course, it was his expression for disposal, throwing away, chucking a person in the garbage like moldy bread.

Lena had learned over the years what the people in this universe do to garbage, it gets thrown into a specifically allocated dimension, a landscape said to be an endless wasteland of mountainous landfill.

Could he actually just throw her out like that? He had stopped playing the Overwatch game years ago, maybe she was just simply out of fashion by now, and he needed the room for a new “waifu”

Lena could feel her heartbeat begin to steadily increase as her mind began to conjure up the worst case scenarios.

She dared to turn her head, looking to her master and trying to read his expression.

Lena was surprised to find he looked uncharacteristically… sad? Or maybe just tired. Either way Lena didn’t dare look for long.

As ten large covered carts began to be pushed out on stage to a roaring applause from the crowd, and a rotund man stepped out in front, fiddling with a loudspeaker, Lenas earlier thought came to the forefront of her mind.

“How bad could an eating competition really be?”