The Olympics are a time-honored tradition of high-level competition, sportsmanship, and global unity through the power of sport. Athletes from around the world gather together to push each other farther and faster than anyone has ever gone before. But when the cameras are off and the athletes return to the Village, that’s when another time-honored but secret tradition plays out. One that never leaves the village, and no one speaks of it to any outsiders.

The Committee knows about it, they suppress any leaks about it, and they’ve tried to stop it for fear of it getting out. Designing facilities and furniture to help mitigate it, but every Olympics, winter or summer, this tradition plays out. This is the story of one athlete’s first time in the village, and what happens after the medals. All names have been changed to protect those involved.

It was the sixth day of competition and a young swimmer named Helene was just about to get into her lane. She was a member of the Swedish swim team and expected to do well in her main event, the 100m breaststroke. She had done well in her qualifying heats and made it to the medal round. This was Helene’s first Olympic games, and the teenager was very nervous to be competing on the big stage with all the viewers watching from home. This was one of the last events of the evening, so all the eyes of the sporting world were on this race.

Her event was called to line up, so she took her mark at her starting position and waited for the signal. She readied; her tight young body coiled like a spring waiting to pounce. Then, it started, she took off into the pool, going as fast as she could. Her arms in a near perfect position and her legs kicking, propelling herself forward. She couldn’t completely see, but it looked like she was leading as she hit the turn around and that’s when disaster struck.

She was so nervous and distracted thinking about the win that she miss-timed her rotation and missed the kick-off. She tried desperately to make up ground, swimming as hard as she could, giving everything she had, but it was too late. The medal trio touched their ends, and she came in a disappointing 5^th. Her heart sank and she wanted to drown herself right there in the pool. A watery grave to end the shame of her country and hometown of Skövde. Despite her dark thoughts, she got out of the pool and headed to the locker room to shower and change. Before she entered, she looked at the winners hugging and being interviewed by news teams.

Helene showered, trying to wash off the failure of the evening. Her young, teenage body was sore from the quick exertion of the swim. Her back and her chest were stiff, she had small breasts due to the amount of exercise and training she endured, no bigger than a B-cup. Her short blonde hair felt good to be released from the swim cap. The rest of her body was completely shaved for improved swim speed. After the shower all she wanted to do was head back to her room at the Athlete’s Village and cry herself to sleep. When she was dry and had on her tracksuit, she boarded the bus with the rest of the swimmers and was on her way back.

Everyone was chatting and having a good time on the bus. The winners were cheered, medals around their necks, and people were singing their country’s anthem. Helene was just silent, looking out the window on this unusually hot night. The streets were full of spectators and partygoers enjoying the Olympic experience. Since this was Helene’s last meet for these games, once she recovered from the loss, she did look forward to getting to do some sightseeing now that the pressure was off.

As they pulled into the village, Helene just wanted to go to bed. It wasn’t late but she wasn’t in the mood to hang out with the other athletes who were milling about the complex. Some were quiet in their rooms, probably ones who hadn’t competed yet. Despite all the calls to relax and talk with people, Helene just went to her room, undressed, put on a T-shirt and panties, and climbed into bed. All she could think about was the failure in the pool. Tears welled up in her eyes as she drifted off to sleep.

In the middle of the night, she was roused from her sleep by a strange sound in the darkness, like whispers in the night air. She reached for the lamp to see what was going on, but suddenly she was grabbed and restrained. She was held down as a gag was put in her mouth and she was tied up. Someone put a cloth over her mouth and the last thing she remembered was a bag going over her head.

She was woken up by the foul odor of smelling salts under her nose. She could tell she was sitting on a hard floor with her back against a wall. She could hear chatter going on around her but still couldn’t see anything until the bag was pulled off her head. Light briefly burned her eyes until they started to readjust, and she found herself in one of the large communal washrooms surrounded by a sea of naked men and women wearing nothing but masks. Someone from the crowd spoke and the chatter dissipated.

“Greeting new athletes of this Olympiad, this was your first time competing and you failed to reach the podium. You now must pay the price for that disgrace.”

Helene was scared, she tried to speak but she was still gagged. She tried to struggle but couldn’t move off the floor. The speaker continued.

“You must now face the time-honored tradition of satisfying your fellow athletes, in the same ways as the ancient Greeks all those centuries ago. The winners get first dibs. Let us begin.”

Helene noticed that there were others tied up against the walls as well, but she was the first to be taken. She was stood up by several men, all of whom were sporting massive erections. She had always been so focused on her swimming that she never had much of a social life. It was mainly school and being in the pool, now she regretted her life choices.

A tall naked woman approached, carrying a pair of scissors. She cut off Helene’s shirt and panties, stripping her of her dignity and exposing her to the room of hungry eyes. Two men approached her, grabbed her by the arms and legs held her down on the floor, forcing her legs open. She tried desperately to cry out; to get them to stop but the gag prevented it.

A fit black man with two gold medals approached her, his large thick cock looking like hard steel. Helene’s eyes went wide, fearing what was about to happen. He was about to line himself up with her, but she was trying to scream so much he stopped briefly and undid her gag.