This story is based on the characters and plot from the wildly popular trilogy “The Hunger Games” by Suzanne Collins.

The forlorn trill of a nearby mockingjay made no impression on the young woman crouched low in the forest, her laser-like focus on the deer before her. Silently, she withdrew an arrow from her quill and notched it, drawing back the bow string ever so carefully so as not to spook the already on-edge prey.

“Hey,” came the voice from behind her, causing her to jump slightly, and sending the startled deer into a panic run. She fired anyway, her shot went wild, and in seconds, what would have amounted to a month’s worth of food for her family was gone.

“Gale! You jerk, you--” Katniss had quickly turned on the man, moving toward him in a semi-threatening manner.

“I have two deer,” he said, putting up his hands in mock defense, “one for my family, one for yours. Took them just a short while ago.”

Katniss stopped her advance at the mention of two deer. She looked at her friend, a boy, a boyfriend, she mused, and she felt closer to him than any other male. She done things with him that she’d never done with another male. Guess that’s what makes him special, she thought.

“You think you’re special,” she said, accusingly.

He smiled, that awkward half-smile of his that lately caused her heartbeat to escalate when in his presence.

Later, after they finished dressing the slain animals, both were sitting on a secluded ledge overlooking their town.

“Have something for you, Catnip.” Gale reached into his burly coat pocket and pulled out a small package, crudely wrapped.

She took it and unwrapped it. It was a ring.

“Gale,” she said, looking at him, but got interrupted.

“Happy Birthday.”

It wasn’t ostentatious, or glittery, or problematic, except for its implied intent. No precious stone, but rather a crude carving of a small bird.

“Gale,” she said, a bit softer this time, “I’m not ready for any kind of--”

“It’s a birthday present, Catnip. I’m not asking you to marry me.” The smile was back.

He leaned over and kissed her, lightly, on the lips. Keeping his head close, he was waiting to see her reaction. She kissed him back, holding the kiss a measured few seconds longer.

The kissing continued, become more ardent, until they parted lips, both a bit out of breath.

Studying him, Katniss made her decision. Once again, the burning need within her was too much to quell on her own, as she would typically do at night in her bed. She pulled her jacket off first, followed by two more layers of clothing that covered her upper body.

Gale watched as she disrobed, hoping that she might relent today, her birthday, a significant one at that. When her breasts came into view, he could wait no longer and dove upon them, so thirsty was his desire to possess this creature before him. His animal instincts took over as his mouth latched onto one of her nipples, hardening from their exposure to the cool air, or perhaps simply her desire, he didn’t care which.

Crying out softly as she felt the contact of her body and his mouth and tongue, Katniss wrapped her arms around his head, pulling him closer as she lay back against the ground. The dampness between her legs that she had felt when she first saw him this morning had multiplied in intensity, the ache increasing too. She rolled her head slowly back and forth as he switched from one to the other. Then she felt his hand between her legs, cupping her from the outside. She groaned and instinctively pulled her legs together and up toward a fetal position, but then relaxed and dropped them, allowing him access.

Gale sensed the heat within her, the quick acquiescence, and made his move. With one hand holding a breast, his thumb pressing against her nipple, sometimes squeezing it in concert with another finger, with his mouth attending to the other, his free hand began the final disrobing, untying the strings that held up her pants. Mere seconds later he was pulling them down and off of her, the undergarments joining the discarded pile of clothing.

Katniss felt everything, every spot on her body where his hands or lips made contact, and now especially between her legs, where Gale’s finger touched her sacred place, eliciting a low moan of pleasure from her.

Moving his face down her taut body, Gale stole a quick look, knowing her eyes would be closed in shyness. He saw her powerful legs parted, the dark brown gathering of hair, and the treasure he sought, wet, pink, and inviting. Spending no more time pleasing his visual senses, he moved his face forward, inhaling her scent, nostrils flaring with his arousal. Using just his tongue tip, he licked a spot on her inner thigh, causing her to once again cry out with pleasure, her thighs once again reactively trying to close but this time failing due to his strong, stock body between them.

He continued licking, moving ever so slowly toward her opening, drinking in her scent like a shark attracted to blood in the water, a frenzy setting in. Gale zeroed in on her core, his tongue penetrating her opening slightly, causing her to buck at him with the suddenness of his assault. Then he licked at her, much like a deer taking life-sustaining water from a stream. Her moans were louder now, her shyness melting away as she reached down and took hold of his head, then moving him ever slightly until she felt his tongue directly touch her pleasure spot.

“Yes,” she said, quietly, “right there, Gale. Make it happen again,” and as she felt his rhythmic licking and then sucking, alternating in some random pattern, she felt that familiar sense of euphoria take over, the warm feeling invading her body, all her cares dissolving in a pool of warm, sunlight water.

A short minute later, arching her back, she cried out and released, her body mildly thrashing with pleasure as Gale struggled to hold on.

Several minutes later, he felt her move.

“Catnip, it’s your birthday, you don’t have to--”

One quick look to her face caused him to stop talking. She was holding her finger to her lips in the universal sign of quiet, then, as she saw him paying attention, her tongue appeared and began licking her finger seductively. He then felt her other hand taking hold of him, caressing at first, and then beginning a rhythmic stroking, her hand firm, yet soft.

Losing patience with teasing him, she slid down his body and engulfed him in her mouth, causing him to close his eyes and moan her name.

She began fellating him, first with short, shallow strokes, using her tongue against his nerve-ending filled lower side, then gradually taking him deeper, and deeper. She wasn’t experienced enough to take him fully in her mouth and throat, but her suctioning and pistoning up and down was stimulating enough.

“Yes, Catnip ... just like that ... that feels great,” said Gale, entangling his fingers in her hair to gain a measure of control over the speed at which she blew him.

She listened to his breathing and was able to guess correctly when he was ready. Withdrawing just a little so that the head and an inch or so was in her mouth, she began bobbing her head quickly, furiously licking the underside, and sending him to sexual heaven.

As the thick ropes of cum shot forth into her mouth, Katniss swallowed once, twice, three times, slowing down her bobbing and easing up on her tongue pressure so that she wouldn’t cause Gale any discomfort from overstimulation.

She lay back and snuggled up against him, trying to soak up any warmth from the sun.

With an almost imperceptible sigh, she said it first.

“Tomorrow is the drawing.”

“Yep.”

“Gale?”

“Yeah?”

There was a pause, causing him to open one eye and look toward her.

“I want ... I want you to be my fir--”

Her declaration was interrupted by the appearance of a large, Capitol flying machine. The two quickly got up and grabbed their clothes, running into the woods and then heading back to their district, the mood shattered.

“Primrose Everdeen.”

The voice echoed then faded, a slight murmur among those who knew her, and those who were relieved that their name wasn’t called.

For Katniss, it was an unfathomable horror, a living nightmare of epic proportions.

Without preamble or forethought, she quickly darted through the crowd, calling out “I volunteer as tribute!” several times so that there could be no mistaking her intentions by the guards, who quickly swarmed her, anticipating trouble.

Now the murmuring rapidly increased in volume. No one, to anyone’s knowledge, had ever volunteered previously for another.

For Katniss, the next hour or so was simply a blur. Hugging her little sister. Another tribute selected, one vaguely familiar, but not. Getting whisked away to the holding station. A few minutes with her mother and sister. Her sister giving her a small pin. And finally, a couple of minutes stolen away with Gale.

“I’m so sorry--” he began.

“Please, take care of my family, especially Prim--” she interrupted, and then was cut off herself.

“Don’t worry, you have my word, they will be taken care of by me.”

She looked at him through teary eyes, her body shaking now, her strong resolve in front of her mother and her sister cracking.

“I’m scared, Gale.” She sobbed quietly in his arms.

“I know, Katniss,” he replied using her given name instead of his pet name for her, his strong arms encapsulating her.

“I wanted you to be my first. I never ... I never expected this, I would have--”

“Shhhhhhh,” he said, quietly whispering in her ear, his hand gently cupping the back of her head, “you’ll be okay. You’re a survivor. You can survive this. You can wi--” his thoughts cut off by the door opening and several Capitol guards entering the room. They looked leeringly at her.

As she was taken away, she looked back once at Gale.

“I love you, Catnip,” were the last words she heard from him as the door was slammed shut.

The train ride to the Capitol was long and mostly uneventful. She found out that she had an advisor, Haymitch Abernathy, who won the Games two dozen years earlier. During the ride, she and Peeta Mellark, the other tribute, learned some of the rules of the Games.

“It’s all about the ratings,” said Haymitch, taking his third drink of the hour. He then went on to explain the rules, though it had to be that he just liked to hear himself talk, thought Katniss, because everyone knew the basic rules.

“It’s the three C’s ... capture, conquest, and cum,” he started, smiling a bit ruefully. “Once you’ve successfully mated with your foe, you move on to the next one. They’ll be removed by Capitol Guards. You have to be careful, because if you accidentally kill or maim someone, you will be eliminated from the competition, and your district suffers. The objective is to be the last standing couple or single from a district. Questions?”

Neither spoke.

“Okay, let’s see, what else. Well, during your training they’re going to give you special supplements that will enhance your sexuality. For males, it enables you to orgasm a dozen or more times a day, otherwise, you wouldn’t be able to participate fully. For women, it’s somewhat of an aphrodisiac and mood enhancer, to increase libido and lubrication.”

“How do we get help?” This was the first time that Katniss heard Peeta speak.

“Well, to do that, you need fans, and the way you get fans is to impress the hell out of the Training Committee. I assume both of you have sexual experiences under your belt?” Haymitch chuckled at his double entendre.

“Well, yes, I’ve had a couple of girlfriends,” said Peeta.

When Katniss didn’t speak up, both males in the room looked at her. She blushed and then got defensive.

“I was waiting until I found the right guy.” She glared at both of them.

Haymitch took a slug from his glass, downing the last bit of expensive scotch.

“Well, that’s going to make this an interesting journey.”

“No way, Cinna, I--I--I can’t do that.” Katniss was flabbergasted at her stylist’s suggestion. It was simple too outrageous.

“Katniss, it’s very important that you develop a fan base, and quickly. The tributes from District 1 and 2 already have a following, and unless we do something memorable, you’re going to get lost in the shuffle. Getting lost means no fan base. No fan base, and, well, you’re going to not get help, and without help, you lose and go home early.”

And that means punishment for District 12, she thought, fighting back tears. She knew what that meant. Each year, the losing districts had to send adult men and women to the Capitol to become sexual playthings for Euphoria, the month-long celebration following the close of the Games. The district that had its tributes eliminated early had to send more, so it was important for tributes to last as long as possible. Lists were publicly posted ahead of time, and Katniss saw that her own mother was on the list in the #4 slot, meaning Katniss needed to be among the last three females in the competition to prevent her mom from enduring that atrocity.

Frustration and pressure bubbled over, and she fled the room, going outside onto the terrace, overlooking the city.

Haymitch shook his head and went for another drink. Cinna looked at Peeta and then at where Katniss exited, making a silent suggestion.

“Let me try talking to her,” said Peeta quietly, and he too walked out onto the terrace.

Katniss was up against the wall, looking out over the edge, the twenty or so stories of height not bothering her a bit.

“You’re not going to jump, are you?”

Katniss looked back over her shoulder at Peeta. He wasn’t an unattractive guy. He wasn’t Gale, of course.

“No, I’m just looking. I need some time to think.”

Peeta walked over and joined her at the ledge.

“I understand. I think Haymitch is the crazy one. Cinna’s idea, well, it’s out there too, but we’re really the underdogs here. Everyone is expecting us and some of the other smaller, outlying districts to get eliminated early. I’d like to prove them wrong, and if doing what Cinna suggests is going to help us, well, he probably knows a lot more about this than we’ll ever know.”

Katniss thought about what Peeta said, and, grudgingly, it made sense. She just didn’t like the idea of being so ... exposed.

“Fine,” she said quietly, and walked back inside, with Peeta following.

The Opening Ceremony was fabulous, a spectacle for the ages. A solid 100,000 people packed the stands, waiting for their first opportunity to get to know the new tributes. As expected, the tributes from the lower districts were all volunteers, ones who had trained for this calling. They were buff, very fit, and very attractive. They had established fan clubs and signs of support dotted the stands.

Most of the tributes were wearing small amounts of clothing meant to show off their best assets. Men typically wore material that clung to their bodies, hopefully showing off muscles instead of fat deposits. Bulges were possibly good, depending upon their location. Women wore two-piece skimpy outfits. All except the tributes from District 12.

Katniss and Peeta were wearing formal attire. Peeta had on a black tuxedo, complete with top hat and tails, bow tie and cummerbund. Katniss was wearing a full-length, black evening gown. As they rode in on their chariot, and word spread, there was laughter and disbelief and even cat calls and jeers.

“I hope this works,” said Katniss quietly to Peeta.

“Me too,” was the reply.

As they passed the first quarter of the parade route, their outfits burst into flames. This caught a lot of attention from the crowd, though since they were last in the line, none of the other tributes saw what was happening.

The fire quickly “consumed” all of their clothing, and then amazingly stuck to their bodies in strategic locations. For Peeta, it was the hair on his head, his hands, and between his legs. For Katniss it was her hair, her nipples, and the thatch of hair between her legs. The fire, obviously magical in nature, didn’t hurt them at all, physically.

It did, however, help them immeasurably in other ways. The crowd now roared it’s approval, absolutely loving the semi-lewd display, and beginning to chant “Twelve! Twelve! Twelve!”

On impulse, Katniss turned to Peeta and kissed him hard on the lips, no peck, but a lover’s kiss, her hands wrapped around his head in passionate embrace. The crowd roared once more, and then went absolutely wild as the cameras zoomed in on Peeta’s crotch and they saw the fire growing larger and larger, indicating Peeta was growing an erection.

She broke the kiss and put her lips near one of his ears. “In it to win it, Peeta!”

Haymitch and Caesar Flickerman were both enjoying the interview on live television when the former Games winner tossed a haymaker out to the Master of Ceremonies.

“You know she’s a virgin, right?”

There was a collective gasp from the studio audience, and, as would be found out later, in the next sixty seconds, the ratings for the show went up over 300% as word spread like wildfire.

Caesar, never known for having a good poker face, was as wide-eyed as anyone had ever seen him in recent memory.

“Did you say ... a virgin?” He was almost conspiratorial in his question.

“You betcha’,” said a smiling Haymitch, taking a long slug from his drink, having played his ace-in-the-proverbial-hole, and wondering what kind of reception he’d get upon returning to the hotel later tonight.

After a few seconds of pure, wide-mouthed, howling laughter in delight, along with a near deafening response from the audience, Caesar, sensing ratings blood in the water, jumped on this opportunity.

“This is ... extraordinary! There’s never been a documented case of a virgin participating in the Games. Can we get a doctor to confirm this, right here,” Caesar’s hawk-like facial features taut with drama, “on this show?”

The crowd as one quieted, anxiously awaiting the answer. There was almost an eerie quality to the lack of sound.

Haymitch paused for a few seconds, looking out at the crowd, giving the broadcasters ample time to get a close-up of his face, drawing out the suspense in quintessential style.

“Hell yes, she’ll do it on your show.” In for a penny, in for a million, thought Haymitch to himself, draining his drink and wishing he’d had another nearby as the crowd went absolutely bonkers.

Peeta was sitting at the hotel and watching the spectacle, joined by Effie, Cinna, and of course, Katniss, who stood up at first mention of her chastity by her mentor. Her face was flushed red with embarrassment along with the fuel of anger.

“Oh shit,” said Cinna quietly. Peeta was simply stunned and slack-jawed, looking back and forth at the large monitor and then Katniss. Effie’s mind, not known for brilliance, nonetheless was moving at light speed, searching for a way to make this a win-win for everyone.

When the final shoe fell, the confirmation appearance, Katniss left the room without a word, not even bothering to the close the door as she didn’t wait for the elevator, taking the steps two at a time.

Cinna spoke first.

“He did the right thing. We’re all thinking that, and if you think differently, you’re wrong. He just gave her an opportunity to become a Symbol of Hope to millions.”

Effie smiled, her brain still not quite processing all of it. Peeta shook his head, then got up and walked out of the room too.

Effie looked at Cinna. “Let’s talk,” she said.

“This is getting to be a pattern for us,” said Peeta quietly, not wanting to provoke her, but instead hoping to try and diffuse the tension. He had found her on the top of the building, at the far edge, and approached slowly, hoping he wouldn’t startle her.

She was aware of his presence when he was fifty feet away, her keen senses on overdrive this evening. She wiped tears away from both eyes.

“Look Katniss, you don’t have to do this. We can tell Hey--”

“DON’T ... don’t say his name right now, please.”

Peeta walked over toward her, slowly.

“We can tell him that this isn’t going--”

“It IS going to happen now. It has to,” she said, resignedly. “If I don’t, it’s going to look like a plot for us to get fans, and it will turn the city against us, against me.” She paused for a few seconds. “It’s the only option now.”

“He’s right, sweetheart.”

Both Peeta and Katniss turned quickly and saw Haymitch standing halfway between them and the door leading to the stairs and elevator, a drink in his hand. The show was obviously taped earlier in the day.

Without preamble, Katniss charged him, Haymitch anticipating this and backing up, holding one hand up in front of him as if to fend off the charge.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there sweetheart, you know it was--”

“You bastard! It’s not your body that’s going to be exposed on national--”

Peeta wrapped his mighty arms around her, stopping Katniss from pummeling their mentor. Haymitch seemed most concerned about the ounce or so of alcohol that got swished out of his glass.

“Hey, wake up Katniss. What I did for you was put you in the national spotlight and give you a chance at developing a fan base, because right now, before my broadcast, you’re just a minor enigma. That stunt that Cinna had you perform was nice, but not nearly enough for what you’re gonna’ need to survive. If you’re not in it to win it, tell me now and I’ll get myself a nice bottle, say fuck it, and be done with all this bullshit.”

Katniss struggled against Peeta for a moment, but then as she listened to his impassioned speech, she stopped fighting.

Katniss and Haymitch just looked at each other for a short while. When there was no more resistance physically as well as verbally, Haymitch nodded.

“All right, I’ll set it up for tomorrow evening,” and he turned and left.

Once he was gone, Katniss spoke, quietly.

“You can let go of me now, Peeta.”

“Oh! Yes, sorry,” he said, releasing her immediately and stepping back.

Katniss moved forward as if to leave, then stopped and turned, looking at him.

“I felt it,” she said, looking directly at him.

“What?”

“You know what. I felt it. When you were holding me, your one hand on my breast. I felt your hardness.” Peeta was now blushing and getting ready to respond. “It felt ... nice.”

Katniss turned and left the boy alone to ponder his thoughts.

The set was turned into that of a mock hospital room, complete with overhead lights and staff dressed in nurse’s uniforms. Even Caesar was dressed in white, complete with a surgical mask hanging under his chin. The audience was abuzz with anticipation.

Backstage, Katniss was understandably jittery. Effie had been with her for hours, preening, making sure her make-up was just right.

It was Cinna, however, who saved the day. He ushered everyone out of the waiting room until it was just him and Katniss. Reaching into his bag, he produced a small vial of amber-colored liquid.

“What’s that?” asked Katniss.

“Drink this. It will relax you.” She looked at him. “Trust me.”

Katniss didn’t really trust many people, but, she trusted Cinna’s judgment. She downed the vial. It tasted somewhat like apple juice.

“I don’t feel anything.”

“You will.” He reached out and touched her hair gently. “You’ll do fine.” Then he leaned forward and kissed her hair.

Effie came back into the room with a flourish of hand movement and style.

“We’re on in five minutes,” she said, coming over to Katniss yet again, appraisingly, making one final adjustment to her hair.

Several nurses entered and surrounded the modified examination room bed and then began moving it toward the door. Katniss caught Cinna’s eye and he gave her an approving nod. She smiled back and he knew that the relaxing potion he gave her was starting to work its magic.

Magic indeed. The benzoditriazepine, a special concoction, worked fast, acting as a calming agent. For Katniss, it was almost like being in a dream world, surrounded by pastels and fairies. She was brought out on stage and the crowd, tens of thousands, applauded their approval. The cameras zoomed in. It was rumored that this would be the most watched event in televised history.

For the certification, the Capitol’s most venerated physician was brought in, Dr. Vincent B. Batz, known to his friends as “Boom”. He was assisted by two nurses, and the three of them were dressed in surgical green scrubs.

Caesar moved into position next to Katniss. Looking down, he spoke gently to her.

“Miss Everdeen, are you ready for this?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be there Caesar baby,” was her reply, prompting an eyebrow raise from the Master of Ceremonies and an “Ohhhh” look from him. The crowd roared.

The two nurses, getting a nod from the doctor, removed the cloth that was covering Katniss. She was now naked from the waist down. The audience erupted with tremendous approval, the fifty foot tall widescreen monitors showing every detail in crystal clear Capitolvision.

Caesar gawked for just a second, then recovered quickly.

“Katniss, your pubic region is manicured into an interesting shape. What is it?”

Katniss giggled, and that startled Caesar enough so that he laughed, and of course the studio audience picked up on it and soon the entire amphitheater was filled with laughter.

“It’s ... it’s...” Katniss wasn’t trying to be coy, she was simply having trouble focusing. “It’s a mockingjay!”

“A mockingjay?” questioned Caesar.

“Yes, they’re birds. My sister Prim gave me this pin,” Katniss adjusted her collar so that Caesar, and the rest of the known world, could see the rough styled pin, “as a symbol of good luck.”

“Well, young lady, I think that anyone who gets to see it after tonight will be very lucky indeed” replied Caesar, and the crowd once again roared its approval at his double entendre.

He nodded to the doctor, who in turn nodded to the two nurses. They each took a leg and gently adjusted them into stirrups, then both were spread wide to give the doctor and the television cameras full access.

Wearing rubber gloves, the doctor placed his hand on Katniss and, using two fingers, separated her vaginal lips. The coral pinkness inside was replete with moisture courtesy of Cinna’s earlier drugging. The clitoral hood was exposed, and the clitoris itself was engorged, a sure sign of arousal.

With his other hand, the doctor began to insert a warmed-to-body temperature small probe inside of Katniss. A small sound was heard, but only by the nurses and by Caesar, as the doctor was too engrossed in his work to hear his patient moan slightly.

The probe had a microscopic camera attached to it, so the studio audience and all those watching via Capitolvision were now looking at the inside of Katniss’ vagina.

And there it was. Partially covering the path was a thin membrane of flesh. The doctor looked up from between Katniss’ legs and nodded to Caesar.

“We have hymen!” shouted the Capitol frontman then flashing his toothy grin, his arms raised over his head in a symbol of victory. The crowd yet once again signaled their approval with deafening applause.

As the doctor and nurses finished up and then covered up their patient, Caesar leaned down toward Katniss’ ear, and, temporarily muting his microphone, spoke to her in hushed tones.

“Young lady, I wish I could dive between your legs and feast upon that treasure. Your scent is like fresh apple blossoms.”

Katniss, under the full effect of the drug from Cinna, smiled seductively and replied.

“I wish you could do that right now. I so need it,” and her left hand pressed against his crotch, rubbing his hardened shaft, the view blocked from prying eyes.

Caesar gasped and backed away, getting back his composure and calling upon the audience, both studio and televised, to support Katniss by becoming one of her official friends. This endorsement was unexpected by all but Haymitch, who negotiated it as part of the deal.

The rest of the time period up until the start of the Games went by quickly for the tributes, who trained each day and sometimes into the night.

For his part, Haymitch was relentless in his pursuit of fans for the two District 12 tributes. Between the revelation of Katniss’ virginity, the televised physical confirmation, and a lot of politics on his part, Haymitch felt he had done all that he could do. His doggedness was due in part to 24 years of failure, as a tribute from District 12 had never won since his victory two dozen years ago. Twenty four years of failure weighed heavily on him.