Hello readers and welcome to my latest story! The Game will be based around ENF themes as usual, and although you may find it a little slow to begin with I think this one is really strong overall, albeit it quite long. As always any comments or pieces of feedback are much appreciated. Enjoy!
*****
Dressed in a resplendent gold satin robe, with his ornate handcrafted black mask glinting under the light of a chandelier, a mysterious figure stretched back luxuriously as he reclined on his chaise lounge and sighed impatiently. With his mind elsewhere he accepted a glass of wine from a nearby servant and gave them a nod of thanks, then sipped his drink thoughtfully as he gazed at the large screen which dominated the entire wall standing before him.
A quick glance at the clock in the upper left hand corner told him that twenty nine minutes had passed, and there were just a few more moments to wait until things would begin to get really exciting. He eased himself up, leaning forward eagerly so as not to miss a second of the action, then scanned the display intently as he counted down the seconds in his head.
"Cigar sir?"
Another server had appeared at his side, carrying an untouched box of Cubans held open on a silver platter, but the masked man dismissively waived him away, for now was not the time to indulge in trivial distractions. As the time ticked over to a round half hour he found himself holding his breath in anticipation, and almost instantly his keen interest was rewarded with a beautiful if highly unusual sight.
"Ah, there you are..."
Up on the screen three new figures had appeared, three gorgeous looking girls who to the man's delight were dressed only in white trainers, and who were being hounded by five very angry looking security guards. After a few steps one of the trio broke off to the left, the light catching the curves of her body as she ran towards the camera, and the other two peeled away in the opposite direction as they desperately tried to stay ahead of their pursuers. The mysterious figure smiled to himself and took another sip of wine, as even after all he had seen over the years he could already tell that this was going to be a good one.
The final round had begun.
May the best naked woman win.
*****
So who is the masked man, who were those nude streakers, and what exactly had driven them to such an insane act of exhibitionism? Well, I can answer your second question by confirming that one of them was in fact me, and in order to explain why I found myself in such an extreme predicament we need to go back seven days, back to where my sorry tale began. Hi, my name is Laura, and this is the story of the most insane week of my life. Before you judge me too hard for what I'm about to tell you, please bear in mind that my life had become nothing short of a disaster recently, and I was starting to get really desperate until The Game came to find me.
For a little context I'm twenty years old, one term into my second year at university, and totally broke. What makes this worse is that I'm actually from a pretty rich family, my dad worked in the oil industry and I had a very privileged upbringing where I had everything I could have ever asked for. Luxurious holidays, tons of expensive gifts, I even had an actual pony at one point. So yeah, call me spoilt or pampered if you want but basically you get the idea, overall it was a pretty cool childhood.
When I was older I got sent to a fancy private school which meant getting good grades was a walk in the park, and after my exams were done I had my pick of the top universities to apply to. My parents bought me a car as a reward for getting accepted onto a prestigious economics course, and then gave me a very generous allowance to live off so I could focus on my studies. Yes, I'm ridiculously lucky I know, and trust me I didn't waste the opportunity as all that money was quickly spent to make my first year living away from home a blast. I went out all the time, made a bunch of new friends, partied every night and did barely any of my lectures or coursework.
This meant I failed the course with an embarrassingly low average score, had to beg my tutors to let me retake the year, and even though I tried to hide this disaster from my family they soon found out when they were asked to pay for my second round of tuition fees. What really pissed my father off was that I'd spent so much on drinks, drugs, new clothes and spontaneous vacations that I'd burnt through all of my allowance completely, and had sneakily dipped into my inheritance fund to make up the difference. Not good right, but what can I say? I was a moron, and sure enough my bad decisions soon came back to bite me.
When the full details of my spending habits came out Dad went ballistic, and basically told me that from now on I was on my own. He'd pay for my degree but everything else would have to come out of my own pocket, rent, food, literally everything. I'd never worked a day in my life so I had no savings, no experience, and no idea how to earn a living wage whilst also trying desperately to pass my first year all over again. So I got a shit job as a waitress in a nearby café, which I hated, and worked there in my spare afternoons and at the weekends as I tried my best to study hard the rest of the time.
To be fair the tough love approach had worked and my efforts were paying off academically speaking, but God I missed my old life of partying all night and sleeping all day. I was also still barely able to scrape enough together to fund my new incredibly boring and frugal lifestyle, and that wasn't made any easier when one afternoon I crashed my car. I hadn't sold it yet because I was too lazy to get the bus into university each day, but I wished I had when I accidentally drove straight into the side of a van as I checked a notification on my phone.
No one was hurt but both vehicles were absolutely wrecked, and the collision had obviously been my fault. And you know what makes it even better? I'd cancelled my insurance a month earlier to save some money, figuring that the chances of anyone ever finding out were so low that it didn't matter. Yeah, like I say, I'm a moron.
The repair costs absolutely wiped me out, and I was lucky not to get into serious trouble with the police for driving around without any damage cover. I had to take out a sizeable loan to fund the van's repairs and now I was seriously considering dropping out of university, just so I could get a full time job to pay off my debts. Sure, I could have gone back to my parents and asked for help, and I have no doubt that they'd have forgiven my idiocy and sorted everything out for me, but I was honestly too embarrassed to reach out.
