Refuse (Fem)

You continue to refuse despite the pain the lashes of the whip give you. You just stand there on the podium, Hector with a face of disappointment, and even some of the infected that have been paying attention have started booing.

This goes on for a few minutes, Hector lashing you with the whip and shouting 'strip!' from time to time, but you remain resolute in your decision. You will not demean yourself. The PA crackles once more.

"Well I don't know what to say folks, this never happened before; Hector usually tames them by now. Guess you all won't see a hot show tonight... You won't see the show, you'll be the show! Hector!"

"Eh, vat?" he replies in no direction in perticular.

"Sorry!" The PA crackles off. The ground shakes slightly and you can hear the sound of motors coming from underneath you. The metal bars that surrounded the arena and kept the infected out begins to lower slowly. The audience cheers at this development. Hector however does not seem as pleased and rushes to where he came in from, frantically shaking his body against the portcullis, shouting pleas and curses.

As the bars lower completely, the edge of the arena looks like a waterfall of grey, their bodies hitting the sand; climbing over each other to be the first ones to the prize.

Seeing no way out of this, you resign yourself to your fate; being roughly fucked and ripped apart to pieces, not necessarily in that order.