“Well, that’s it for the opening rounds folks,” said the ringmaster. “We’ll have a one hour interval before we start the semi-finals. You are welcome to come into the arena to view the rebels up close… no touching, mind!”

“Do you want to go in?” I asked my wife.

“Maybe later, once we’ve had some dinner. There’ll probably be a mad rush at first anyway.”

We made our way back out through the tunnel under the stands and brought our dinner at one of the snack wagons before sitting down at a picnic table.

Just over to our right I noticed there was a bookmaker’s stand and people were already taking bets on which of the remaining rebels would win.

“Who do you think is going to win, kids?” I asked.

“It’s obviously going to be Reece,” said my son. “She’s so beefy; she’ll crush the kids and the men.”

“I’m not so sure — the kids are small and light and could dodge and outrun her,” said my daughter hopefully. She looked a bit worried as she spoke.

“Tony and Eustace look evenly matched,” I said, “now we’ve seen that Eustace has some balls when properly motivated. I think one of them could win.”

“Whoever gets Agnes will have an easy time if she won’t fight,” observed my wife.

“But if you bet on her and she somehow won, you’d make a fortune!” my son commented, pointing at the bookmaker’s odds board.

After we finished eating we walked back through the tunnel and continued straight on through a gate that had been opened up into the arena.

A temporary metal fence had been erected about twenty feet from the posts and crucifixes, and plenty of people were leaning on them observing the rebels.

I gravitated towards the first crucifix. Seeing someone as young as Amber decorating a cross got me rock hard, especially as her tiny pussy slit was on display for all to admire. By sheer luck Bea and Celia had done a good job nailing her, and she wasn’t bleeding very much at all. She grimaced every time she moved and avoided looking at the crowd.

My son was watching Celia dancing on the cross as I joined him.

“I’d like to dance with her, if you know what I mean!” said my son.

“Yes, I know what you mean!” I replied, smirking at him. “Make the most of her then; she probably won’t see out the night.”

“What do you mean, Dad?” enquired my son.

“See the copious amounts of blood on the sand?” I explained. “She’s bleeding from a severed artery in her left wrist.”

As my son put his hand up inside his shorts and discretely pleasured himself, I walked over to my daughter, who was in a staring match with Reece.

My presence distracted her and she turned right around to look at me, so Reece wouldn’t see her worried face.

“What if she wins?” my daughter whispered to me. “She’ll be free, and I know she’ll come for me. I can’t kill her if she’s a civilian.”

“Don’t worry, there’s only a one-in-six chance of her winning — well, okay, one-in-five if Agnes doesn’t fight,” I said, putting my arm around my daughter’s shoulders to comfort her. “We’ll work something out if it happens.”

“Hey, let’s go and say hello to Lena,” I said to cheer her up. “You can congratulate her on her performance!”

We walked over to my wife, who was already talking to Lena.

“Hi Lena! Your routine was very impressive,” my daughter called out.

“Well, it wasn’t a routine, you know, it was survival. But thank you,” Lena called back.

“I hope you win!” said my daughter.

A bell rang twice to signal that the interval was almost over, so we turned and went back to our seats to watch the guards remove the metal fences and bring out two small stages from the openings in the backdrop.

The stages were set up in the centre of the arena about thirty feet from each other. Each one had a large wooden block fixed to it with another of the same size above it, only this one was split along the centre and had two holes in it. I watched as a guard pulled apart the halves of one of the upper blocks and realised that they were on hinges. I could now see two much larger holes in the lower block.

The guards returned to their positions around the arena and the ringmaster stepped out to greet us once more.