Chapter 1 - Contestants

 

"Hey, Sis, how would you like ten million dollars? Here see, an advert for survival skills. All it is; is one week on an uninhabited island, flora and some small wild animals, and if you survive the week, a piece of piss for you, the organizers will give you ten million dollars. All to be filmed of course, it's a new game show for television," Andrea said.

Andrea, was a mid-thirties blonde, but not the archetypal blonde, she was cleaver, after school she joined the navy, and seeking adventure, and excitement, she moved to the Navy Seals, and became a sergeant with them, before retiring, after falling foul to a tropical disease, she was fit, almost healthy, as long as she took her medicine to stop recurring bouts of the disease, and she still had the yearning for adventure.

Standing at five feet, eleven and a half inches, she was not a small person, her figure was the perfect hour glass shape, thirty eight, twenty six thirty six, a little top heavy, but she never complained about her arse looking too big, in any pair of trousers. Long slender legs, but with a well-defined muscle tone, biceps and arms powerful enough to command the respect of her solders, she did not lead because she was a sergeant, she led the men who were more than willing to follow her, because of her skills and abilities.

On the ranges the men bet as to who would get the score nearest to her score, on the assault course it was who would get the time nearest to her time. She didn't stand on the side lines shouting at the men under her command, she led them, challenging them to beat her to the finishing line, and the closest was two seconds behind her.

"Almost a dead heat, Higgins," she said encouraging him.

"It's those long, long legs you have Sarg," he replied laughing, as they sat side by side, panting from the effort.

"Yes they reach all the way to the ground. You don't have these two lumps to carry around, without these I would be faster," Tracy replied, laughing.

"If you need someone to help you carry them, just let me know?" he asked her.

"You wish, soldier," she said and laughed, "Mason, five minutes behind me what were you doing, having a sleep?" she asked, the last man across the line.

"Sorry Sarg, I think I am coming down with something, I am puffed, which is unlike me," he replied.

"Come here," she said, and felt at his brow, "Hum, fifty press-ups should do the trick," she told him, smiling at him, "It is the best cure, for lazyitis," she added and laughed.

"Sarg," he replied sullenly, and started the press-ups; he came third the next time they completed the assault course.

Tracy seemed to have the knack of making them work, push themselves to, and beyond the limit, yet they didn't hate her, they loved her, even punishment seemed to be light hearted, and they obeyed her willingly.

In Iraq, she led a squad into battle; she took out two gun positions single handed, opening up an avenue of attack. In Afghanistan, she took a bullet and still led her men, gaining for her the Congressional Medal of Honour, she was one tough bitch.

"Sis, they do not give away a million for a week's holiday, come on where is the catch?" Tracy asked her sister, "And when was the last time you lived for a day, without the microwave and pre-made meals?" Tracy asked her.

"I have seen the survival programs, and maggots are not my staple diet, nor my first choice, from the menu," Andrea said.

"I did a survival course in the jungle, the desert, and the arctic, I eat to live, so what form my food takes doesn't matter, as long as it is nourishing. Although I must admit that I prefer steak Diane, to maggots, as you put it. Don't you see; I have trained all my life for this moment? I enjoy the outdoor life I get with my scout troop, but the wages, are abysmal," Tracy said joking.

"It is voluntary, you are not supposed to get paid," Andrea said.

"Yes, I know, hello, joke, I am the blonde around here. I work as a security guard in a factory. They insist that I carry a gun; ha, I have killed more men with my bare hands, than the rifle I carried in the Seals. Silently taking out the guards, a broken neck, a slit throat, my men were with me, and we wiped out the camp of the insurgents. We took prisoner, well, as many of them as gave up, and now as a security guard, I have to carry a gun? What is the world coming to?" Tracy asked, "I wouldn't care if it was a bank vault I was guarding, at least then it would be advisable, but a toy factory, to protect next year's designs from industrial espionage. I ask you, who the fuck would want to steal the design for a new toy?" Tracy asked.

"Obviously they do, it is big business to have the original design. What would have happened if the original design for Barbie had been stolen, where would the designer, and manufacturing company, be? It would have cost them, millions, so it is like a bank vault, in one sense," Andrea argued.

"OK, I am feeling neglected. I was almost at the top of my profession, and could have gone higher, if it hadn't have been for this disease. Now I am on the scrap heap of life. They employed me because I am licensed to carry a gun, what a reason? Don't you agree that it is to say at the least, disparaging? Hello, you are allowed to carry a gun, so you have the job. Not that I have a degree in sociology, or that I have risked my life for my country. I got the job just because I am allowed to carry a gun," Tracy said dejected.

"Sis, you did say that you would take any job, and then move into a better job," Andrea said.

"Yes, I did and thank you, for the job, it stinks. Now I have applied for other vacancies, but they want experience, eleven years in the navy, seven in the seals and they want experience in sociology, not killing people, or my illness means that I may have too much time off work. What was it Eisenhower said? 'Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.' He forgot to say, 'because your country will do fuck all, for you.' Minimum wage, and me, a war hero, and that is all, I can get. I can survive for a lot longer than a week, the money, is mine," Tracy said.

"Tracy, you are not stupid, and I know that you can survive a lot longer than a week, but ten million, one million and I wouldn't question it, even for TV, but ten million? You have to be a bit suspicious," Andrea said.

"I am, but arguing will not answer the question. It suggests that you apply for the video, that will show you it is not a hoax, I will send for it and then I will apply, and make sure I am not wasting my time, before taking part. As you said, I am not stupid," Tracy said, smiling at Andrea.

Tracy and the rest of the girls who had decided to apply, sent for the Video, a week later it arrive, and Tracy put it on, Andrea sat beside her.

The screen opened up with a busty woman smiling at them, they watched as she removed her top exposing her rather well-developed bust, still held captive in her bra.

"No ladies this is not a trick, I am just showing you that I am female and that I have a large bust, it is all mine. A weak female, not on your fucking life, I have just returned from a month in the Amazon Jungle, and I took these beauties with me," she said laughing and cupping her breasts, "They are an inconvenience being so big, but I took them with me when I climbed six of the highest mountains in the world, next year it is Everest, I rowed down the American coast, we are not weak, we are just as strong and capable of surviving out in the wilds as any man.

The television show is to prove that one week on a deserted Island, please, note not desert, deserted, no people, but fruit and vegetables grow there and there are animals to catch, for food. Up for grabs is the first prize of ten million dollars. Why even a housewife could survive for a week for that kind of money. Food is everywhere, it will not be comfortable using a leaf for toilet paper, and sleeping in the open, but what is a little inconvenience when there is ten million up for grabs.

Come on ladies, let us show the two faced males that they are not the only ones that can withstand a little discomfort, hey needing a fuck, I use the crew I take on my jaunts, there will be men available, we will be filming your challenge.

It will not suit everyone, but for those of you who like a challenge, and know what your pussies are for, apply now. Don't miss the boat, one of you will get ten million upon your return, apply now. This is not a sex video so that is as far as I go stripping off, but believe me down below there is a pussy aching now for a hard cock, I know what it is for. I, live hard, fuck hard, and hope it is hard enough?" she said and the video went blank.

"So, I am not a virgin, and a film crew to fuck, interesting, most of that sort are bent anyway, and not interested in a woman, show them a clit and they run a mile," Tracy said and laughed

"I suppose you are going to apply, just don't expect me to join you, two reasons I like my creature comforts too much, and my pussy is for the person I chose, not some film director," Andrea said.

"I haven't had a man in ages, I think I will work my way through the entire crew," Tracy said smiling.

"There will be more than seven of them," Andrea said.

"Not when you exclude the queers and women there will be women as well, if that is your inclination?" Tracy asked her.

"It is not, as you well know, Bitch. When you win, can I live with you?" Andrea asked.

"I will have to consider it, but being my sister I think I will allow it, you can be my house keeper, a live in job," Tracy said and they hugged and laughed.

"Where will you live?" Andrea asked.

"Well, definitely not here in fucking New York, the dump, Los Angeles, Miami, name it, we can afford to live anywhere with ten million in the bank," Tracy said

Across the country and down in Miami, a prostitute was entertaining her client.

"General, you held on for me, two orgasms, you are a good boy. So good in fact that I may leave you tied to the bed so that I can use your dick again, later," she told him.

She operated under the pseudonym of Francesca, her real name was Florence and she didn't feel it suited her, hence the change of name.

Her client smiled at her, "I have only paid for one hour, and don't have any more money my dear, not until my next wages check," he told her a little anxious about her offer. He knew all that interested her was the money, even if she made him feel that he was her only boyfriend, he knew better.

"For two orgasms there would be no charge, but if you failed, them I would have to punish you in the naughty boy's room," she told him still sat on his groin.

"I have told you, I am not into that sort of thing. OK, I accept that some of the males who visit you, like to be tied down and given the cane, and some like to be transformed into females and given the cane, being tied to the bed whilst you fuck the arse off me, is as far, as I go," he said.

"You are a softy, sweet, kind and generous, but soft. I will not be able to see you next month. I have decided to see just how good I am at surviving, and if I win, then I will have to introduce you to a friend of mine because with ten million in the bank, I will not be fucking, for a living. I may allow you to visit me in my mansion, to scrub my floors; then again that is not your scene either, is it?" She asked him teasingly.

"Ten million, you are joking, I was in the Rangers, and I have done survival courses, what do I have to do?" he asked.

"Well, it isn't that simple, first of all you would have to change sex; it is only open to females. What size of tits would you like, I think a 'D' cup, nice and big, you like mine, and they are a 'D' cup. Then the cunt, well there wouldn't be much to do down there, would there? With it being so small," she said, adding a smile to show she was teasing.

"Size is not important, ability is the key, and you had two orgasms, then again it isn't small, as you well know, having felt it sliding into your cunt, many times. In a long insertion, because of the length," he said.

"I have to admit it isn't that short, perhaps I may use it, once I am a multi-millionaire," she said, smiling down on him and then got off him.

She untied the bonds holding him to the bed, and he used the bathroom and then got dressed.

He came over to her and put his hand to her breast, his other arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him, planting a kiss on her lips.

"Seconds cost extra," she told him, and put her dressing gown on, and then showed him to the door. She took a shower and got ready for her next client.

Way up north in Chicago, a young lady interested in prepping, saw the advert. She had the shelter in her garden, and it was fitted out with air purification units and water purification. She had slowly built up a well-stocked store room, and had packed away clothes for what she considered as the inevitable. What, she was not sure, nuclear strike, a financial crash, a plague that wipes out the world populations, or any other cause of civil unrest, but she knew it would happen at some point. A survival test would show that she was ready and able, and the ten million would come in handy. Cash would be useless, so she would have to convert it into gold, or precious stones, to trade with, after the apocalypse.

As an actuary, she was well aware of the probabilities of an economic collapse, and was prepared for that eventuality. She also was prepared for the aftermath. She had taken lessons in the use of a rifle, and watched several videos, on survival.

To see her at work you would not be able to see the other side, she was demure, well-educated, confident, and had a trim figure to match her attractiveness. Precise and articulate, she commanded respect in the office. At the weekend she was again precise in her preparations, but a very attractive woman in stiletto heels and dress is perhaps not the image of a woman going out to collect logs, for a fire, or chopping up a log, for the fire. She was the epitome of the well-groomed, affluent female, who would scream if she saw a nail chipped.

This does not mean that she was pathetic, she was anything but. But her ability to survive on a deserted island must be questionable. What if her stiletto heel broke, or she chipped a nail, a strand of hair was out of place? Would that end her week, all too soon?

Any good researcher would not accept her on this sort of show, but Mary, was accepted.

Boston, is the home of Kirsten, a house wife, auburn hair a comely women, with two children one aged eleven and the other thirteen, and a husband, who worked for the garden department at the local council.

Kirsten liked the outdoor life, and they went camping a lot, every summer in fact. Her husband had a hunting license, and a rifle, and they very often returned from holiday with a deer he had shot. So Kirsten felt confident that she had the wherewithal to survive a week, alone on an island in the pacific.

A luxury motor home with all mod cons is a world apart, from building a shelter from twigs and leaves, a small thing that seemed to go over her head. She was in her mid-thirties and well groomed, even if she looked after herself, they didn't have the money for hairdressers and manicurists. She presented well, her round face beamed when she smiled, her eyes seemed to light up and her figure, was not what one would expect of a woman with two energetic boys, she looked after herself. She had a nice well rounded pair of breasts, she was proud of, and all natural, no silicone in them, and a full 'E' cup, down to a trim waist and nicely rounded buttocks, on down to shapely, long legs. Kirsten had been the runner up, in Miss Boston, in her teens.

Avril, was most certainly born on the wrong side of the tracks, her dad spent half his life in prison, her mother spent half her life drunk. Avril had been in trouble with the police in her teens, mainly for fighting, drunken brawls, and one or two petty offences. One day as she turned twenty, she was sat on a bench by the shore, and a man came up to her. He sat down beside her and smiled.

"Avril, you know we are what we decide we are going to be. You are at a cross roads in your life, with several options. Become a drunk like your mother, fucking anything in trousers, to pay for it. Then again, you could turn to stealing like your father, prisoners do not pay taxes, they are fed and looked after, but then again they do not have this view, of the sea. The sandy beaches, they cannot go and buy a coffee, talk to a stranger, or have what they want to eat. Then again you could do a lot worse, than the army, again they look after you, they feed you and keep you fit, and out of trouble.

Shall we say that I have been watching you, and you are not like your mother and father? You can be a part of something, you are not stupid, and have the intelligence to be a police officer, a prison guard, even get a commission in the army. All you have to do is believe in Avril and see where she, takes you," the man said and got up.

Avril looked around and he was gone, he must have disappeared into the crowd, apart from the fact that there wasn't one. This played on her mind, and she decided to try his suggestion, she applied for and got into the police academy. Now as Sergeant Avril, she was glad she had taken his advice, but the lure of ten million was too strong, and she booked a month off work for her holidays, and lieu days.

She was tall, six foot one inch, and had a shock of ginger hair, bright ginger the other officers decided that she didn't need the two tones, her hair would alert everyone to her approach. She took their joke in good spirit. A well-developed bust, and a trim waist, joined to sexy hips which she knew how to swing, made her the target for all the single males on the force, and she dated quite a few of them.

"I agreed to a beer, and unless you want to sing in a high pitched voice I suggest you accept that is all, I agreed to. I have one rule, I fuck whomsoever I want to, not the other way around, and a couple of beers, is not enough to get me so drunk that I no-longer care. Now if I have put you off fine, but I like to be straight, you are not getting inside my knickers, tonight," She told each one of them, on their first date.

"So there is hope for me on the next date?" one or two asked.

"If there is to be a second date, at which point I will tell you the rules for that date, which you may not like," she answered.

She was not a prude or virgin, quite the opposite; she enjoyed a good fuck, but on her terms, and she was not afraid to make them known.

Brenda was a blonde, in every sense of the word, she was a very attractive woman, and had the perfect hourglass figure, which was why she was a sought after model. Years of walking the cat walk had instilled in her what was required, not that it took a tremendous amount of intellect. Perhaps Brenda was not the brightest spark, but the photographer who discovered her, spent time teaching her. She was a natural, once she knew what he wanted.

Ten million dollars is a big draw, and that was what she saw, just the money, not the other part, what she needed to do to earn it, a big mistake.