you reap what you sow.

BY : 3ww
Category: G through L > The Hunger Games Trilogy
Dragon prints: 4139
Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games, or any of the places or characters appearing in it. This fic was written purely for fun and I make no money with it.

chapter 00 - introduction:

HEY! This will be a retelling of the entire first Hunger Games book, set in an AU where the everyday lives of the people in Panem, but especially in the Capitol, are filled with nudity and sex, and it's an inevitable topic for everybody.

And most importantly, of course, the Hunger Games themselves are extremely perverted and sexualized in this version. What will happen when the Tributes are taken from their orderly, normal lives in the district, and thrown into the Capitol, into a world where their bodies will be used for the entertainment of the people in the Capitol, and for the torture of the people in the districts?

I hope you like this concept, and you will enjoy reading along as this long fic unfolds!

And, btw: don't you worry if the tags are looking a bit thin right now. I have only tagged it as things happening in the first chapter already, and that is, of course, not a lot. But you can rest assured that this story will contain all sorts of sexual situations, pairings and fetishes, and will get smutty as hell very quickly ;) And now - enjoy!


chapter 01 - waking


I roll over, expecting to bump into Prim's sleeping body, but the spot next to me is empty – empty and cold. That finally wakes me up for good, and I decide that it's no use putting it off any longer. So, I open my eyes and let them adjust to the room's half-darkness.

My sister must have had a nightmare and climbed into bed with mother – understandable. After all, this is the day of the Reaping.

I wrap myself in the covers more tightly to escape the grey room's biting cold. We barely have enough money to heat our home at all, so we definitely don't have enough to keep it warm at night, too.

I decide that it's probably for the best to just get it over with, and so, I lift the covers off myself and prepare for the blast of cold air on my skin. But even prepared, it's still a nasty experience first thing in the morning. I sit up on my bed, putting myself into the field of view of the greasy mirror hanging on the opposite wall of the room. Staring back at me is the naked torso of a teenage girl, body toughened up by years of hard work and hunting, and a face that's just as hopeless as you'd expect someone living in District 12 to be. My long hair falls down my bare back in a single, thick braid – I like it best that way.

Nobody in this family – and probably almost nobody in the entire Seam – has any pyjamas or nightgowns or anything similar. That kind of thing is a luxury item that we simply can't afford. Clothes are for being outside, for working. And clothes are worn during work for as long as they last. And they last longer if you don't wear them in situations where you wouldn't need them – like sleep, for example. Usually, we like to cuddle together to retain body heat – but now Prim's in mother's bed, and I'm even colder than usual.

Because of that, I decide to finally stop wasting time and get up and get dressed, then I'll be decidedly warmer. I remove the bedsheets from me completely, stand up and have a big stretch. I look over to the bed on the opposite wall, where Prim and our mother are still sleeping soundly. But even if they weren't, I wouldn't be trying to hide myself. It's not like it'd be the first time for either of them to see me without clothes on – like I said, we do, after all, sleep naked every night. It was never a weird thing for me or any of us, it was just natural, just the way things were.

I put on thick underwear and socks to keep me warm, next, my pair of pants, the best one I currently have, and then, I slip into my hunting boots. I wear those every day, and I've been doing so for years. At first, they were a bit too big for me, but by now, the leather has molded to my feet and they're like an additional layer of skin for me. I really hope my feet have already stopped growing. I put on a black shirt, without a bra. A bra... I've never worn one of those, much less owned one for myself... I don't think anyone in District 12 wears a bra, unless maybe the really rich women... the wife of the mayor, perhaps.

But even though I think bras are generally an overrated piece of Capital fashion, I do have to admit that having my breasts bounce and shake around during hunting and running through the woods can be quite distracting. But I don't need a bra to fix that. I've just been wearing rather tight shirts, those also keep my breasts in place just fine.

I don my brown leather jacket and put my braid up into a cap, then I grab my bag, and I'm ready to go.

As I walk out into the kitchen, I see that my sister Prim has left a present for me on the table: A little goat cheese that she made herself. My mouth is watering just looking at it, and I can't help but smile. My sister is one of the very few things that can make me smile at all. I hope she can get a couple more hours of sleep today... she'll be scared enough once she wakes up.

I leave the house, and step out into the bleakness that is District 12, or, to be more precise: the 'Seam', which is what we call the particularily poor neighbourhood my family lives in. The sun hasn't risen yet, but its light is already starting to brighten up the world just a little bit, and so, I walk through the streets in the grey daybreak twilight, every footstep producing a wet sound on the brown, muddy streets.

Usually, the Seam would already be a busy place, even at this time of day: There would be lines of people slowly trudging towards the coal mines, their shoulders low and their eyes on the heels of the worker in front of them.

But it's Reaping day today. Nobody has to work on the day of the Reaping – but nobody is happy about that. If it meant no Reaping, then everybody would gladly work an extra day.

After a while, I reach the end of where the buildings are and walk onto the Meadow, a patch of grass that seperates the Seam from the forest beyond. It's strictly forbidden to go here, and to enforce that ban, there's a tall electric fence across the Meadow – the same electric fence, in fact, that's surrounding the entirety of District 12. Without official Capital permission, nobody is entering or leaving District 12 on their own.

At least in theory, that is. In reality, however, we rarely even have power for more than one or two hours a day – the Capitol tells us that it's power outages, but everybody here knows that they have it shut off most of the time because they just don't want us to have reliable electricity. Other parts of the border are guarded more heavily than just with a non-electric electric fence, but here, the Meadow – even though it's technically illegal, nobody REALLY cares if you go into the forest. Still, you better not get caught.

As I approach the fence, I pause for a second, just to check for the low humming noise in the air that would indicate the fence being currently electrified. But, just like most of the time, there's no humming. So, I simply climb through a little hole in it that is somewhat hidden behind a bush, and I head into the forest.

A couple of trees into the forest, I retrieve my favourite bow and a quiver of top-notch arrows from a hollow tree, where I always store them, carefully wrapped in plastic to protect them from water. My father made all of the bows I have hidden in the forest, before he died. The Peacekeepers here pretend like they don't know about them, but that's just because they, too, like a bit of fresh meat from time to time. In fact, they're one of my best buyers.

After a while of walking through the forest almost completely noiselessly, which is a skill I've been learning all my life during hunting, I arrive at a high rock ledge, a spot from which you can see further into the valley than any other spot I've encountered so far.

It's my meeting spot with Gale, my hunting partner, but he's not here yet. Neither of us have reliably working portable clocks, of course, so we never arrange an exact meeting time. I'm here before him most of the days.

I sit down and then lean back a bit, propping myself up on just one of my elbows. I sprawl out my legs comfortably, and then, my free hand absent-mindedly opens the button of my trousers. Without taking them off, I slide my hands into them, and then into my underwear, and let my fingers brush through the thick bush of pubic hair growing on my vulva. I've never shaved, anywhere – I don't know how, and also, I don't know why I should. I start rubbing my vulva in dedicated circular motions, just how I like it.

I do this almost every morning when I'm here before Gale, for a simple reason: Ever since I first did it a couple of years ago, I have found that it really helps me calm my nerves to allow myself to have an orgasm from time to time. It's relaxing, it's fun, and, most importantly in District 12: it's free and I don't need anything to do it.

And why do it here, why now? Well, this is one of the very few situations in my day-to-day life where I actually have true privacy – if not actually the only one. I spend most of my days in school, where there's cameras everyhwere, or hunting with Gale, where there's... well, Gale. And whenever I actually take a bath to clean myself, which happens, like... RARELY... I use the District 12 communcal washhouse most of the time. And at night, like I said, I sleep snuggled up to my 12 year old sister, and even though we're both already naked, that is for purely practical reasons. I mean, if I explained the whole thing to her, she probably wouldn't even mind me masturbating before bed from time to time. But I definitely would mind, it'd be weird and wrong to do it. I'm not one of those perverted, incestuous, ever-horny Capitol people, after all.

And so, it's become routine for me to use this perfect opportunity to relieve some stress.
I've been stroking my vulva for a bit now, and I can't stop a soft smile from finding its way onto my lips. Because even though I mainly use masturbation to relieve stress... it just feels good, damn it! By now, the rubbing motion has excited me enough, and I can feel the wetness starting to trickle out of me and moisten my skin and pubic hair. I sit up straight again, because I like to use both hands for this next part. I brush off the dirt and little stones from my second hand, and then, I also shove it into my underwear. I use my left hand to continue rubbing the outside, now focusing especially on the little knob that sits at the top of my vagina – my clitoris, if I remember that correctly from school. When it comes to these bodyparts, I really only know the terms they taught us in school. The Capitol thinks it's important for us to know how both girls' and boys' private parts look and work... because of course they do. Perverted pricks. I know that there's other words for all of the parts, too, and I could probably easily learn all of them from most of the other people my age. But I don't really see why I would need them.

As the fingers of my left hand continue rubbing my clitoris, I now move my right hand a bit further down, and insert the middle finger of it into my vagina. With how wet I am right now, it slips in easily all the way. I find that one finger, the middle finger, is the perfect amount for me to feel good. Sometimes, I can also fit two comfortably, but I rarely ever do it, because I only need one to have an orgasm. I COULD even do it without inserting any fingers at all, but it's just more fun like this. I once tried three fingers, but that was just painful and I didn't enjoy it at all.

Pumping my finger in and out of myself and rubbing my clitoris, I'm now nearing an orgasm pretty quickly. I just hope that I can get myself to have at least one before-

„Hey there, Catnip!“

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