Celebrations in the Night

     The air reeked of sex. Consentual, or otherwise, the smell was everywhere in the cool night air. You were brought here for one reason. To fight. And more importantly, to win. Failure was not an option in your mistress’ eyes. The gathering was celebration of an important victory the Demon Lord claimed over the dominion of the Order in days past. From what you had gathered, it was hard fought. Every year they had this debauchery of a celebration. Feasting, drinking, gambling, and most importantly, the fighting.

     The fights were the main spectacle of the night. Monster Girl masters from all areas of the Demon Realm brought their fighters to face various monsters in displays of combat prowess. And afterwards, sexual dominance. They were mostly for show, of course. Humans rarely beat out their opponents. But the symbology was important. The defeat of the Order, and the ascendance of Monster Girls over all. However, human victors were not unheard of, and their masters were well paid.
The cold shackles around your wrists made you itch. It wasn’t quite clear why they would shackle you at this point. Escape was a fools dream at this point. Snatched from your comfy existance on Earth, and brought to this degenerate hell-hole. It was curious that the only other humans at this event were also earth-born. Where are the men from this realm? Surely there would be others, or atleast incubi. Such questions dare not be asked, though. You’d witnessed a very talkative friend of yours be completely ravaged by an ushi-oni simply for asking questions. Who knew such a weight could sit on such small of a head and not crush it like a grapefruit.

     A sharp yank on your chains jerks you out of your thoughts. Your oni handler fumbles with the key. Having only one hand makes unlocking your bonds a difficult task. Staring at the large woman, you smile. Something about this one-eyed, one handed McPirate looking monster girl was kind of arousing. The oni could obviously feel your stare, as she started to blush profusely.

“Your opponent I’ve arranged is a weresheep. I pretty cheeky one at that.” The handler explained.

“Just a sheep? I’m insulted.”

“Do not underestimate her. She’s cunning, and will take you faster than you think. Hope to god you do not draw bare hands. Hope for something with reach. Pray to your Gods you don’t get shears.” she explains with a smirk.

     “If there’s a god, why has he let me go here? ” you ponder. Life hasn’t done you any favors, but to be abducted, put in a fight at your auction, raped, and then sold to a group of vagabond pirates is beyond your reasoning. They were good to you though, if not a bit rough. You’ve had your sleepless nights as you had to pleasure the crew. The Captain herself had her own piece of meat that was pampered, but you were below that. You were the crews. You dined with (and on) the crew, you seen to their every wish. The kinks this oni had you to do would make your mother shudder. You never actually knew what a bunghole really was until this crew educated you on the finer workings of a ship.

     The oni led you by the hand to where the other humans were kept. Some were gaunt, others fat. Some obviously believed that the happier the human, the better of a fight they’d put up. This was not your case. Brutality brings loyalty they’d tell you, as you scrubbed the deck. You shook your head, hoping the thoughts would fly out of your ears and out of your mind for good.

     The oni was approached by a very promiscuous looking succubus. They gave each other a nod, and talked for a bit. Obviously about the terms and conditions. The whole “if your man loses, we are not liable for what may happen during his rape” schpeel. You’ve seen sheep back home, they’re the sleepy ones right? Harmless. Its not like one could overpower me and rape me to death. Just stay away, and look for an opening. Seems easy enough.

“You’re the opening act, pipsqueak. You better do good, or I’m going to put you back in the cask and have more fun with you.” the oni tells you. Something about how she said it doesn’t rub the right way with you. But even with all her blemishes and scars and such on her supple blue skin, you wouldn’t mind her to rub you at all.

     You’re forcefully made to sit down with the other humans. Your handler gives a wave, and walks away. Looking around, there’s about seven others besides yourself. The man to your left is grinning at you, as if you were some sort of inside joke with himself.

“What?” you ask, not wanting to be the butt of a joke.

“Atleast your escort is soft.” the ginger guy says with a flick of his nose. What a strange gesture, you think to yourself.

“Bullshit. You don’t even want to know what I have to go through on the daily.”

“My lovely ‘owners’ are trying to make me become some sort of Casanova for these creatures. I have a very enthusiastic lich and overzealous manticore studying everything about me. Every. Thing.” he makes a lewd gesture that you can only assume means ‘milking semen’.

“What about you? Wait, wait, wait, let me guess; corsairs?” he asks. Atleast he’s trying to make the best of a bad situation you imagine.

“More or less, yeah. What’s your name, stranger?” you ask.

“The most popular name I have is Vermin. So I guess that’s my name now. Used to be Spencer though.”

“Spencer? I’m so sorry your parents did that to you.”

“They’d be proud. They never thought I’d pull this much tail ever.” Did this motherfucker just try to make a manticore pun? I think he did.

     A genuine smile forms across your face. It’s nice to see someone going with the flow. Sadly, it seems that its only him getting a kick out of this. Everyone else is grim. What’s not to like about being abducted and placed into this strange realm full of lecherous monsters that only want your semen. Or as they call it here “spirit energy”. The thought of ‘where did all the men from this realm go?’ crosses your mind again as a pair of centaur canter pridefully up to the pen.

     “Vermin of the Astari crew?” one of the centaur ask, holding up a torch to illuminate the pen. This centaur had two horns for some reason. Her pure black coat shone in the pale moonlight, as her near naked body was illuminated by the warm red and yellows of the torch. She was a pale white, with a platinum colored hair. She had strange markings on her forehead, with two twin horns jutting out on either side. They curled a bit at the end, and a little red bow was tied at the base of one. She wore what you would best call lingerie, with a lacy, flowery red bra. And for a strange reason, she wore a garter belt that held the stockings on her horse legs. Your eyes practically roll on their own.

“Horse pussy,” you think to yourself “when will they ever learn?”

     Standing up, the other one “ooo’s” under her breath. Wearing only a pair of leather pants, a pair of boots, a belt that would be better suited as a back brace, and a pair of vambraces, you look pretty pirate-like. You might intimidate someone back home, but here, you’re a novelty. Amazons wouldn’t even think of fighting you, lest they harm their precious toys. The other beckons you over, and they slide their arms in between your arms as they walk you to the arena. Or so you hope so. Its not unheard of to abduct a human in such a fashion. But vengeance here existed, and it was ugly.

     Luckily for your dicks’ sake, they lead you to the staging ground. A simple roped off area in a circular shape. Torches kept the rope anchored, so it was well illuminated. If you were back home, you’d compare this to a backyard fight night that your redneck neighbors would hold every month. In the distance, you hear moaning and groaning. You knew quite well what happens to you after the fight. Or during, for that matter.

     You’re pushed in, and in walks your opponent. A sleepy-eyed, yawning, weresheep shuffles in. Rubbing her eyes, she looks at you. Then squints at you, as if she wasn’t sure you were real. She shrugs, and smiles. You are not worried one bit at this. A bell rings in the distance, and people really start to show up. They surround the ring, and the sound of yelling women is all you can hear. Catcalls, lewd commentary, and bets are being said. Looking around, the oni handler is no where to be seen in the faceless crowd. Pre-show jitters hit you, and your legs are starting to feel a little wobbly. Then the lamia slithers in with a silver bowl.

     The bowl is what makes the fight interesting, so you’ve heard. All sorts of weapons are drawn on little slips of…something. You’re not quite sure paper as you imagine it exists in the same way in this world. Each person draws something, and that’s what they fight with. The weapons are all made of demon realm silver, so deaths are non-existant. Its only a mock, really. The winner is obviously the monster each time, they just do this to thump their collective chests you reason. The lamia slithers over to you and coils around you as she holds the bowl. Go time.

     Her tongue tickles your ear as you look away and draw. Without looking, you pull a scrap of what feels like a sort of hide up to the spectators. They all gasp and cheer. You turn it over to reveal that you have drawn and were blessed with a simple spoon. This truly is a farce, you think to yourself. The lamia tsks you as she slithers over to the weresheep. She reaches in and just pulls out the first thing her hand touches. She shows it, and the crowd collectivally ‘ooo’s’. You squint and try to look at the tiny picture and make out what looks like a tree branch.

     The tree branch was not a branch. Its a club. Its as if they just rip down the largest branch and call it good. The lamia hands you a wooden spoon. Strategies and scenarios run through your head involving your simple spoon, but it all falls apart because of the obvious advantage in weaponry your opponent has. Before you can even think of what to do, your legs do your thinking, and you start walking at your opponent menacingly, spoon raised.

“Its go time!” you whisper to yourself, trying to brace your nerves.

     The weresheep yawns sleepily, and drops her club. She then begins walking towards you. Menacingly, of course. The closer you get to her, the more the crowd quiets down. Its what you’d consider the calm before the storm. The silence before the plunge. You get to arms length of her, and you stop dead in your tracks. Something is possessing you to touch the fluff. So you touch the fluff. Its so soft and warm. You lay your head on her shoulder. Its so nice and warm, you think. Before you know it, she has pushed you onto your back. The heat of and scent of the fresh wool overrides your sense to fight, and you just start groping her fluffy ass. The wool is cool between your fingers, and her tongue is so aggressive. Wait, you totally didn’t even notice you started to kiss her. You are no longer in control, she is. Your master will not be happy about this lack of resolve.

     To you, everything feels groovy, even as she pulls away from the sloppy kiss, and starts pulling your pants down. You’ve only known brutal lovemaking, its nice for you to experience this brief respite. Your member flies full staff as you feel her warm nectar begin to drip onto you, staining you with her scent. The ship won’t take kindly to this, but you’re going to take kindly to this right now. She slowly sinks down onto you, enveloping you in wooly paradise. Back at home, you weren’t a fan of bush, but this is a whole different kind of monster.

     She begins to ride you slowly, taking her time, and enjoying herself. Her soft moans barely heard over the captivated audience. You can’t tell what they’re saying, nor do you care. You just want to enjoy the show you yourself are putting on. She continues her gentle night-time ride, putting her hands on your chest to support her bouncing. It feels heavenly. You lose yourself in her rhythm, as everything around you begins to melt away. All the stress, hate, and punishment means nothing to you at this point. Only this girl, and her loving caress. Something possess you, and you grab her hands. You’re now holding hands as she begins to bounce a bit faster, the sounds of her wet flower pounding into you makes a slight squish sound. Her smell is not of fish, and for that you are beyond greatful. She begins to quiver, and moan louder, as you feel her cum. She stops and looks at you, expecting something. She dismounts, and crawls down to your manhood, rubbing her face on it.

     Her slick juices begin to coat her face, and she smiles. She begins tracing her tongue up and down your member, as she maintains eye contact with you. You eye twitches, the feel of the cool air and her tongue tickling you is too much, and you have your sweet release. She begins to clean you up with her tongue, and giggles. You yourself let out a giggle. For some reason, you’re ticklish down there now. Its never happened before, but its an interesting feeling.

     She finishes up, and climbs back on top of you and lays her head on your chest. And your eyes begin to get heavy. Drowsiness has hit you like a truck, and you can’t help but fall asleep

.
     You hear the sound of someone jingling coins as you drift back into conciousness. A pleasant calm has come over you, and you feel giddy. The oni is staring at you, wide smiled and shaking a bag of what sounds like coin.

“You couldn’t have done better. The captain will be pleased with your winnings.” she says with a chuckle, looking at your half naked body. You’re in the pen again, and the other humans are gone. Yelling and whistles still fill the air, and you can only assume you were dragged off after your showing.

“But I lost. I got raped!” you gasp

“No you didn’t. I didn’t bet you would win.” the oni replies with a smirk, her hook tracing a line down your cheek.

“w-What? What did you bet on then?”

“Who would cum first.~”

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