The Dark Arena

[asetikish]

Debt makes people do stupid stuff, and Karla was no exception. She was a decent 9-to-5 worker living in a modest apartment with the occasional excess money for a few pleasures. She was supposed to lead a normal life if her brother wasn't neck deep into a local mob. Apparently, he lost goods worth 500,000 and if he couldn't come up with the money, his payment would be his life. Karla exhausted every means she had and she was still short a hundred.

And that was why she was here. In this underground fighting arena where the audience consisted of the elite and the powerful. To the Victor went the prize money of a hundred, and to the loser, double that. It was a strange arrangement, but looking at the fine print revealed why.

There were no rules to the match--the only important things were that no one died, no hitting the face, and no blood. Points were deducted to the combatant who cums or gets assaulted sexually until the score drops from a hundred to 0. Sexual assaults were worth a point each, and cumming for 5. An automatic loss was given to a combatant who could no longer fight for ten seconds with an unusual pin: the victor's foot on the losers crotch. The loser will be sexually used.

Karla read and re-read the terms, part of her wanting to back out. She couldn't stand such degradation, but at the same time, she was a decent in self-defense. All she had to do was not get beaten and she would be fine. She would get the hundred and leave with her dignity intact.

With no other recourse, she signed the papers and the man led her into a bare room with some tools on top of a single table and told her to strip. Karla balked but he insisted that the examination was necessary, and was part of the contract. She read the paper again, and it was right there. She turned away and stripped.

"Turn around. Hands at the back of your head and spread your legs."

It took a while for Karla to respond, but she obeyed, her face flushed completely embarrassed that she was absolutely naked in front of a stranger.

He scribbled on a clipboard. "No need to shave you, then." He reached out and grabbed her breasts causing her to recoil, but he held tight, squeezing. "Sizeable, perky and natural. Good." He then reached out to the table and opened a jar scooping out some kind of cream and smearing it on her breasts.

"What's that?" Karla demanded.

"It deadened some of the pain receptors on your breasts, so it won't hurt too much just in case you get hit. We wouldn't want you down so quickly."

Karla nodded, feeling repulsed by how she was being handled, but at the same time, she felt an arousal stir inside her.

With his fingers still covered in a little cream, he reached down and plunged two fingers inside her. She gasped and realized that she had grown wet from how he handled her. She felt fury at herself for feeling that way.

He slowly pulled his finger out with a smirk. "Not a virgin and easily aroused." He put more cream on his fingers and smeared it on her pussy and clit, taking his time, rubbing her in small circles before putting more of the cream inside her, his fingers pumping under her. It was all she could do not to cry out as her knees shook. She bit her lips hard to keep herself from making any noise.

Before she could reach a crest, he stopped and took a small syringe with a red band. He put his clipboard down and took her right arm.

"What's that for?"

"Standard requirement for a combatant like you." He injected her with precision that she hardly felt it.

"And the other one too?"

The man smirked pulling out a pair of light blue hot pants that look more like underwear and a tank top. "No. That is a strength enhancer. What you got is a sensory enhancer. Now wear those and get ready to got out in the ring." He grinned at her and pushed the trolley with all the items toward the door they came in from.

Karla quickly dressed glad to be wearing something, but before the door closed behind the man, he added, "What that means is it turns you into a cum-starved slut for a few hours. You have the perfect body for it."

Her eyes bulged as the door closed. The game was already rigged against her favor, and unfortunately, she could already feel it's effects as her tight clothing pressed against her crotch and her breasts making her feel all too aware of them. She took a few breaths to calm herself. Losing was not an option for her. She wasn't a fuck toy to be used for someone's pleasure. She was only in this to win the money. All she had to do was focus on that and win.

Suddenly, another door opened, and beyond there, she saw the ring. Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward and out into a very small crowd, all of whom wore masks. She climbed onto the ring between the ropes waiting for her opponent to come out, unknown to her that in the brief moment she bent over, everyone could see a damp patch in her crotch.

She ignored the tingle through her body as she waited for her opponent.

 

[kissdance]

She hates them, all of them with a rage that never goes below a fiery simmer, the masked men, the faceless men, the men who come and go, using her drugged body as they please. But she also needs it, the surge of whatever hormones and chemical they put into her, the aphrodisiac, the reactions of her body over which she has no control. And the sensations that set her body ablaze when she is touched, handled, fucked, repeatedly raped until unbidden bucking in the unbidden orgasms that sweep over her, promising herself as she undulates in her erotic dance that she would kill them, every last one of these hateful men.

Now they are injecting her again. Eyes closed she feels the familiar tingling that spread over her. Time to fuck, time to find her victim.

She has never lost the game, not in the area. Her slim, lithe body belying the strength in her limbs. Whoever they send against her is her prey, and she the huntress who devours. Whatever they inject into her makes certain of that. She eyes her prey now. A woman...good, and a very pretty one. She will have fun with her, and the fact that it would excite the audience, that the gang rape would follow only excites her more in a primal way even as that rage bubble up again.

A brush of her red gold hair, she waltzes into the center of the ring, piling her long tresses on top of her head with arms raises, body arching. They like that, like the sensuality, the outlines of her breasts and nipples, already stiffen, clearly seen through the fabric of her top. The mound of her sex too, the damp spot between her legs. Is she a cum starved slut? why not. She turns to the other woman.

Head down, a quick rush, and her shoulder is pushed into the midriff of the girl, bearing down on the girl with the force of her body backed by the momentum of the rush, her arms throun around the girl, pinning both her arms together to her sides, hands locked behind her at the small of her back, one hand curled around the wrist of the other

 

[asetikish]

Her opponent appeared before her and she saw nothing but rage. Anger. But at the same time, the woman put on a sensual show for those in the arena. She waited, wondering when things would start when the woman suddenly rushed toward her knocking the wind out of her.

For a few moments she saw nothing but spots of white dancing in front of her eyes before reality set in. The woman was squeezing tightly making her unable to move her arms. She struggled a bit before deciding to use her legs to wrap around the woman's torso and return the favor.