Gladiators in the Night – 1

    My eyes open. It’s dark. The ceiling covered by the long shadows of the ceiling fan lazily spinning. Another restless night. I sigh and turn over. Another one of the many sleepless nights. It always happens this time of the ear. Always has, and probably always will. Such is life.

     My eyes adjust to the darkness. The pale, all familiar bluish moonlight peeks through the blinds. I see her. My wife. She looks so serene in this light. I smile and think about how we first met. Our first kiss. Our first time we admitted our feelings to each other. Life truly is a strange trip. And brother, I have stories.

     I lean in and gently plant a kiss on her temple. I then gently pat her on the head. She stirs a bit before turning over onto her back. Her hair cascades below her, framing her a halo of sweetness. She always looks so angelic. I tenderly roll off the side of our bed. No need to wake this angelic creature up. Just need some “me time” to digest my thoughts.

     I sneak my way down the hallway of my house. A single lamp being the only illumination in the house at this time of the night. I pass a cracked open door and stop. I have to. I turn and lightly push the door open more. My daughter’s room. She is sleeping peacefully. As she always does. She was never a problem child. Her third birthday is coming up in about two weeks time. I need to plan something extra special.

     I gingerly close the door, trying to avoid the creaks and croaks of a noisy door. The last thing I want is to wake my little Angel. I proudly strut into the kitchen. How could a guy like me get so lucky. Fuck that, I had good Karma building up for quite a while. It was bound to come back to me one way or another. I whistle a song I used to listen to all the time as a kid. I open the refrigerator and grab lime juice and get my little ice tray out. Its time to enjoy a tasty beverage. I check the cupboard for a fresh glass and find none. I roll my eyes. Its a bad habit, but I’ve just never been able to break it. I open the dishwasher, and bam. Jackpot. I I feel a little risky, so I get my daughters ANM48 glass, and head to the counter. Time to make a good old gin and tonic in a kiddie glass.

     Putting the cubed ice into the cup, I thought about her. The bitch that changed my life, and nearly ruined it at that. I shake my head and slap my face, as if that would magically purge my memory banks of her stupid face. I finish pouring the gin and tonic water into the glass. I uncap the faux lime and squirt its contents into the cup. More than a splash. Don’t really feel like catching scurvy would be the excuse I use should I get found out.

     Walking into my living room, I felt something. I couldn’t quite place it, but I know it was nice. As if something was telling me “Its over now. Why do you still do this to yourself?” My answer is simple; because it comforts me. Why else? I plop down in my laz-e boy and prop the feet up. Time to relax and let my hair down for a bit.  

     I grab the remote off the end table next to my chair, and click it on. The warm light of the TV washes over the room as I take a sip of my mixed beverage. A bit strong, but oh well. New drink, figuring out the right ratios. Mixology was a new hobby of mine anyways. I always wanted to be the “cool guy” mixing drinks for everyone at my house. Wife didn’t enjoy my new hobby, but I didn’t enjoy many of hers, anyways. I flip through the channels idly, waiting for something to catch my restless eyes. I glance at the clock. Three-twenty-three in the morning. Some kikimora smut is probably on skinimax right about now, but that probably isn’t the best to watch. Lest my sleepy eyed daughter walk in asking for a glass of water. I could only imagine the beatdown I would receive from my wife if she had to explain to my child about what it meant to “service Master’s candelabra.”

     Something at last catches my eye. The old familiar scene of converse peeking out from behind a baby-shit green bathroom stall. The bathroom fight scene in the Warriors. The best scene in the movie. Of all time, really. There was a purity in this fight. Something about fighting in a grimy, close quarter, tooth and nail, bloody ring. No holds barred brutality. It was a great scene.

     The stall doors swing open, and the synthesizer reaches crescendo as a kicking guitar riff cuts through like a butchers cleaver through fresh meat. The red and blue and yellows clash, mixing into a grisly clash of violence. Warden pulls Vermin off of a salamander and knocks the wind out of him before slamming him into a group of mirrors, taking him out of the fight. Wait. My eyes are surely playing tricks on me. I do a double take and see Swan fending a harpy off of Rembrandt. This opening allows a ghoul to sneak up behind him and put him in a hold, gently licking the side of his face. He squirms from the assault, and a wight saunters over and puts a hand on his bare chest. The camera pans to her face, and she is blushing. She begins to nibble on the troubled youth’s neck. Its like he doesn’t know whats going on, either. This can’t be. I slam my eyes shut, hoping for a refuge from this assault on my senses.
This offers no escape, sadly. Voices come back in waves and intensity.

“You won’t escape again.”
“I will throw her straight into the ghoul-den. Lets see how long she lasts as a human?”
“Thats it, Killer. Give it to me with feeeling~”
“Just go…”

     So I go. I set my drink down, and go right to the bathroom to calm my nerves. I turn the sink on, and start splashing cold water onto my face. The chilled water will hopefully snap me out of this all-too familiar funk. Its been quite a bit of time since I had an episode like this.

     But this was my life now. Ignore it as I may, I won’t ever unlive it. I sigh as I wipe my face off with a lovely deep purple handtowel. My daughter’s favorite color. I casually toss the towel into the sing and look into the eyes of my own reflection. Dirty blonde hair, stubble, perfect eyebrows. Yep. Thats all that looks good on me. Never enjoyed what my extended sabbatical in the so called “Demon realms” did to my body. It wasn’t natural. My skin turned from a normal white cream color to a paler, almost snow white look. My eyes went from a deep green to an even deeper aqua. I will always be self conscious of my eyes. It looks like something straight from a manga a snotty weeabo would read. This new body was as much as a curse as it was a blessing. I say “new”, but I can’t remember when the drastic changes occured. I realized until I was far too gone.

     I slyly smirk and wink at myself. Always a silver lining to any situation. I fuck my wife like some sort of Greek God now, and that is always nice. Plus, I can run, eat, and drink twice the amount a normal human being could. I turn the light out, and head back to the living room. I turn off the television, disgusted that one of my all time favorite movies has now been soiled by my experiences.

     I sit down back into my cushiony throne. I pick up my drink and swish it around, contemplating. I drink deep, and kill it. I set the kiddie cup down and kick back. The silence my only companion for the next couple of hours, Its time to do what I do every year. Time to dredge up the past and reflect.

———————————————————————————————————————————-

“Such a good movie!~” The brunnette to my right squealed as we walked out of the theater. A new Lamian fairy tale movie adaption. Chicks dug that sort of thing.

“Yeah, I’m glad you enjoyed it, hah.” I said with a smile. God, I’m hopeless. First date since I moved to Tulsa for school, and I was seriously blowing it.

“I have to say, I think I’m getting used to these…Liminals? Is that the proper nomenclature?”

“I think so, yeah.” I reply

     It had been about three years since the portals opened. Portals to some other sort of dimension or something. I never understood, and frankly, it made my head spin. It was all mumbo-jumbo to me. But hot, sexy monster girls crept into our world and mens’ collective hearts everywhere. The closest door to Tulsa? Right outside of good ol’ Austin, Texas. Tulsa was sort of the doorway to the East Coast for liminals. There was another door right on the other side of the Canadian border, but that was their problem. Could be worse. Five portals opened in Japan. Five. The hearty (or strange) Japanese people welcomed it with open arms.

“Kay, I’m hungry.” my girlfriend said. In the flesh. Yeah. We used to be an online couple, what of it? We were together a whole year before I moved up here for school. It was still weird to be physically with her though. I felt intoxicated around her. I could almost drink her presence.

“Well, you’re the local.” I retort

“I do know this burger joint…” she said as we turned a corner.

And I go right into the supple bosom of a holstaur. Shit.

“S-sorry lady.” I squeak, avoiding eye contact.

“Its fiine.~” She cooed as she pats me on the head. I just received headpats.

“Humans are so cute when they’re flustered!” the unmolested holstaur said to the other.

“Dunno why he’s with that human girl. They have no spice.” my boob-buddy replies to her friend.

     Everyone wondered why I wasn’t chasing every piece of monster tail in sight. It was pretty simple. They were just a little too alien to me. A bit wild. I mean, I had a wild side, but that consisted of playing Dungeons and Dragons for four hours before going to HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts) class. I was a mere neophyte, but a two year neophyte. Besides. I really liked this mere human girl.

      Kate was blushing. It was cute, but nonetheless feel guilty. I can’t do shit against the cows, because for all I know, they’d probably drag me off and double team me. Probably make her watch for good measure, too. Twisted creatures. Twisted, beautiful, monstrous creatures though.

“So,” I say, waiting for the bovines to be out of earshot. “where’s this place at?” I ask. My stomachs rumbling, and I’ll get payback by eating some cow. hah.

“Right up this block.” She says. Shit. I fucked up. Something is wrong. Why am I such a damn fool? I’m such an idi–

“Thanks.” She quips while I’m mid panic attack.

“For?”

“Taking me out. It was nice.”

“I suppose. I watched Romeo plus Juliet, just to be extra romantic.” Doy. Idiot. Kate giggles though, so I’ll take it.

“One problem though.” she says

“Whats that?”

“You’re Benvolio, really.”

“Fuuck that. If anything I’m Mercutio.”

“Black?”

“Yep.” I reply, adding in an eye roll for emphasis.

      We walk into the burger joint. Kikimora staff. Exotic. I make eye contact with one of the waitresses and she blushes hard. Lord, have mercy. I don’t even mean to cause this shit. She timidly walks over and guides us to an empty booth, making extra sure I get my menu.

“What will I get the couple…? To drink?” The Kikitress asks. It flies over Kates head, but I pick up on the waves she’s putting out.

“Coke, no ice. And you my love?” I practically coo to Kate. Unsuprisingly, she looks at me quizzically as the waitress purses her lips and turns to Kate.

“And you?”

“Water.”

“Mhm.” she turns and winks at me. Okay then. Its a weird time when a girl won’t take a clue. Weren’t Kikimoras supposed to be sweet and innocent? But I guess otherworldy beings have their own style to them.

      Kate and I make small talk in the diner like every twenty-something year old couples do. Food was good. Company was better. Something didn’t feel kosher though. My skin crawled. I felt like I was being watched. I hate that feeling. But, it was probably just the pushy waitress watching me and thinking of ways to kidnap me away from this inferior human girl. Didn’t they understand thats the only way to have more male humans? Whatever. Although Kikimoras were hot in their own conservative way though, honestly.

     I, being the suave and manly gentleman, paid the tab. We remove our asses from the booth, and get going. I leave a fifteen percent tip. I think thats enough for a lusty kikitress. I wonder what they use money for anyways.

“Good place.” I say

“Yeah, I’ve ate there since I was a kid.”

“Been there awhile huh? Pretty liberal to hire such a diverse waitstaff.” I observe.

     Being in the bible belt, some people didn’t look on such creatures with love and acceptance. To the majority around here, these monsters just wanted to take the Bible Belt off and ride America raw and turn it into another Sodom.

“I’m glad. Its nice people are finally coming out of their shell. I have–” she stopped and stared down the alley we were passing.

“Do you hear that?” she asks, turning and following the sound like it was some sort of Reeses Pieces trail. 

     Where did it lead? Well of course right into a dark and isolated alleyway. Cmon. This is almost too cliche.

“This isn’t a good idea.” I warn.

“Do you not hear that? It’s like a baby or something.” she replies

“Yeah, babies aren’t left in shady as fuck dark alleys. I don’t feel like being raped, do you?” I sincerly didn’t want to be raped. I had heard stories of broken bones and broken pelvises. Do not want.

“You’re a chicken, Kay.” Ugh. Stop calling me Kay.

     She walked down the alley as I stood guard at the entrance to what seemed like the Tunnel of Rape. Bad idea following this sound. But whatever. Can’t chicken out now. Glancing up and down the street, I seen no signs of life. I sighed and turned to go down this maw of darkness. It was almost magical how black the darkness down this alleyway was. I began the cautious walk. About ten steps in I stopped, closed my eyes, and listened. I heard nothing. No footsteps. No cries. Nothing. And then a slight thunk. Something hit the ground from a height, and of fucking course, it was right behind me.

     My heart began to race. My blood began to simmer. My stomach churned and turned. I’m about to get in a fight. Muggers? Perhaps. I clench my fists and grit my teeth. Its time to throw down. I spin around to face my new adversary.
And I see nothing. Adrenaline now pumping, I looked for the culprit of the fall that sent me into whatever panic induced fight-or-flight moment. Nothing. Fucking nothing. This was a mistake. I pivot on my heels turning back around sharply.

     And there she was. Suddenly fully illuminated. It was an elaborate but clever trick. An arachne, two heads taller than I atleast, her face three inches from my face. I nearly shit my pants as the image of her angelic face with four demon red eyes is burnt into my memory. Her hand thrusts forward. Almost instinctively, my hand shoots up to stop it. She grabs my mouth as I grab her wrist. I am effectively muted, and I have to breathe through my nose.

“Don’t resist my advances, lovely. You’ll hurt a girls feelings.” The spider said to I. She leans forward and plants a kiss on my forehead. Sadistic bitch. I reply with an attempted left hook right looking to plant my own kiss right onto her stupid, sexy face. She caught it with her free hand and giggled.

“You like to play rough too?” She giggled, as if we were about to enter some twisted roleplay of prisoner and prisoner-who-drops-soap. Her hand around my fist tightens, like some sort of vice. As does the hand around my mouth. Her chitinous hands feeling like lukewarm steel clamps threatening to shatter my fingers and jawbone. This must be what it felt like to be a tree and have kids break off branches to pretend sword fight.

“Raes, stop,” Another woman’s voice.

“Do not break the goods. Incapacitate him, and bring the woman, too.” The spider frowns at me.

“No fun.” Raes says, voice drenched with faux sadness.

I felt a sharp pain on my head as if struck, and drifted into the familiar blackness of unconsciousness.

———————————————————————————————————————————–
     I smelled where I was before I seen where I was. The smell of a sweet saltiness filled the air. An interesting combination of what I assume lust and shame would smell like. My eyes fluttered open as I groaned. I attempted to feel the back of my head. The action was cut short by the cold embrace of a manacle around my wrist. Figures. I’m laying on my stomach. The ground is soft and has an earthen smell. Dirt floor, I hope. I roll over and see I’m not alone.

     Illuminated by the single lantern on the wall I see three others. Males, by the look of it. Their traits were outlined, but not revealed by the meager light of what I would best describe as a sort of holding cell. The closest one was a longhair sitting on his ass with his knees pulled to his face. Brown hair fell sloppily around his legs, as if he were trying to hide beneath a mop from the beasties that most likely lay in waiting outside. About five feet from him on the next wall was a bigger guy. He was fat big. Not fit big. Slumped against the wall, he was zoned off. Probably dreaming of greener pastures. I feel pity for him. Monster girls like their victims lean, so God only knows what they have planned for him. The third was a little more active, standing up and feeling all over the wall the best he could. I guess he was trying to look for some sort of weakness in the wall. Or a loose stone to fight with. I am not sure.

“Find anything?” I ask, turning over and propping myself up against the wall.

“Yeah, its a fuckin’ wall.” He retorted. Strange accent. Maybe Brooklyn? I’ve never been good at placing accents.

“What about you hotstuff?” I ask to the guy sitting to my left. He’s in some sort of fetal position. He looks at me, looks over to Brooklyn accent dude, and hangs his head back down. He’s done and over this.

     The atmosphere of this place was unusually heavy. It was kind of hard to breathe. I would compare it to like sitting in a car with the windows up on a hot summer day. Air is there, but its thin. It’s pretty clear why Hippy and Stay Puft here are quiet. They’re probably overheated, panicked, and trying their best to breathe. Hell, I’m thirsty. But I feel something that I can’t quite place. I grab for my phone to maybe see if I can use the light to get a better look at my surroundings, but of course its gone. As is my wallet and keys. Pretty expected, but worth a shot. I’ll pretty much take any chance that is thrown at me to get out of this. So now I’m in an unfamiliar place, with unfamiliar faces, and no way to check the time or get help. I’m so fucked. This whole ‘wait until someone comes in and rape and or kill you’ thing is the worst.
And then it hits me. Where’s Kate? What did they do to her? Is she alive? Will she be okay? Is she even human anymore? I need to calm my fucking nerves and get a grip. Now is the time for being cool and quote-unquote “level headed-ness”

“Any idea where we’re at?” I pipe up, breaking the silence.

“Shit if I know man. I get knocked out by some cheap mother fucker in the bar I’m drinkin’ at, and wake up in this place.” Brooklyn explains as he gives up the wall inspection and plops down on the ground. I sigh.

     Time passes. Then more. And more. I’m hungry and thirsty and have a half chub for some reason. Its a bit alarming, really. And then the door swings open and three figures storm into the room and inspect us all before conferring to the obvious leader in the middle. Its dark, but I can tell that one’s an ogre. Two orcs. This could go very badly. They look hungry, too. But I’m sure they’re after sweeter meats.

“On your feet, morsels. Its time to put you on the block.” The ogre sneers at us captives. I stand up. No point in fighting a losing fight. For now.

“Oink oink.” Brooklyn mocks as he stands up. I close my eyes. I don’t want to watch this obvious rape happen. This guy is obviously sheltered from these types of liminals. They don’t take so kindly, and love breaking people. I hear a sickening thud and a grunt. I open my eyes to see they took the high road and just knocked the shit out of him to put him back on the ground. The ogre huffs and storms over and kneels down. She grabs the mans face and wrenches it up to look at her own. She stares at him for a moment before talking.

“Insolent. I don’t think you understand the precarious situation you find yourself in. You are in my realm. My cell. And as such, you will repay my hospitality back by not being a worm. I could take you right here you know. I enjoy breaking problem children like you.” The ogre picks up the man, and sets him back on his feet like some sort of action figure she just knocked over.

“Take these three,” the ogre continued, turning to us and pointing a long, slender finger at me, Brooklyn, and Hippy, “to the block. I think this one needs more…Exercise.” she devilishly comments, a grin spreading ear to ear as she heads over to Stay Puft. So they were trying to get him more lean using sex. Sounds like the twisted mongirl logic we all came to love. Poor bastard. What was this place? ‘The Block’? I hope they aren’t referring to a chopping block. My mind is racing again.

     The orc gets much to close into my space as she unshackles me. I stare. If I’m about to die, I’m going to soak in as much scenery as I can. She catches that I’m gazing at her pork loin and licks her lips. I know her race. With enough willpower (and fruit) I could subjegate her if I desperately had to. Wait, why am I thinking like this? Whatever. I don’t even like orcs. They unclasp the others, putting us in a single file line and march us out.

     The hallway was better lit. There seems to be more than one ‘cell’. What could they possibly be needing to have this many people? What am I thinking, the answer is obvious. I just don’t want to admit it to myself. I’m probably headed to a meat grinder of sex and lust. I could practically smell it. Will I ever see Kate again? Will I ever see my family again?

     We are led to the end of the hallway. I’m trembling. I don’t want this to be my end. It won’t be if I have a say. I just need one opening, one chance. The pigmen look at us, and then to themselves. We could overpower them if we wanted. No. That would be much too easy. The orcs turn their attention to unlocking the door in front of us. I hear a scream. Womanly. The ogre is making quite a fuss, and we can hear it. Poor bastard.

     The door swings open and I’m blinded. Its as if God had sensed that I had been light-deprived and decided to pay back the debt in full with interest. I raise my hands to shield myself as I’m pushed forward. I feel a squeeze on my ass. Literal swine. I hate orcs. I am going to hatefuck one of them if I ever get the chance. I’m prodded once more into the room in front of us. The sounds of wolf whistles and cat calls fills my ears in a cacophony of perverse admiration as my eyes adjust to the light of the new room.

     We’re in a ring. Raised stands surround us. Its as if we’re in some sort of strange rodeo, and about to get rode hard. Hopefully more figuratively than literally. We’re surrounded by animalistic faces. From apophis to zombie, I’m sure ever race wouldn’t miss whatever twisted shindig this is. I imagine this is what the ending of Animal Farm looked like. Looking from lamia to wight, wight to harpy, harpy to succubus, and it all looking the same. They all had hungry faces, and we were obviously the main course. Hopefully. I know I’m not some fucking appetizer. I’m dehydrated, hungry, confused, and scared. That’s when I notice her.

     A lizardman. Her beautiful auburn hair put up in pigtails. Or twintails. Either way, I love handlebars, so I’m a bit aroused. Smooth peach colored skin, with the characteristic green scales for her forearms and bottom half of her legs. She wasn’t wearing shoes, so her lizardlike feet freely breathed as she walked to the center of this strange arena. She turns to a figure and salutes, pounding her chest thrice. Her boobs jibble from that, almost falling out of her swimsuit like armor. I understand not having a boobplate, but I feel like more protection is in order.

     The crowd simmers down as what I’m assuming to be the succubus in charge stands up. She looks down on us three humans as if she just caught the canary. Bitch. Succubutts were always too “holier than thou” for my tastes. Acting like not having sex makes one a lesser being. But my friends loved them, so I had to tolerate them. I avert my eyes from her gaze. I know what they’re capable of pulling off. If I kept eye contact, she’d pump me so full of charm cocktails I’d probably lick her all over. That thought scares me. Not being in control of my own body is one of my worst fears, and I’ll be damned if I will allow that to happen.

“Tonight for your bidding pleasure, three specimens from our wayward cousin, Terra.” she claims, making large and dramatic arm movements as if to accent her words to make them seem bigger than life. She’s the Queen Bee or something.

“But of course, to arouse appetites,” she continues, her spadetail handing her some sort of scroll. She opens and reads aloud: “‘Our new trainee Zhara shall test these morsels in glorious combat. Feast your eyes, and open your wallets for our cause.'” She finishes and tosses the scroll aside. She licks her lips and eyeballs me. Do I look like some sort of hors d’oevre to this chick? She sits back down and gives me a small wave as she crosses her legs in a highly suggestive manner.

     A sword is thrown at my feet. I blink. Are they for real? Why are they bidding on us? Is this some sort of horse race? Why have us fight? Wouldn’t that spoil or blemish our good looks? When in Rome, I guess. Atleast I’m getting the fighting chance that I’ve been asking for.

     I pick up the blade and inspect it. The weight feels about right for a longsword, but the metal has the slightest pink tinge. Whats the angle? I run my thumb down the blade. It’s sharp, and I swear I cut my thumb. But no blood. This is weird. Besides these peculiarities, everything seemed kosher. Except the whole having to fight with this blade part. That was still sinking in.

     The woman points her own blade at me. She’s really wanting to do this? The others back away, leaving me and my lizardlady adversary in the center of the ring. If I’m going down, it’s going to take more than a simple gecko to put me in the ground. I’m downright offended that they sent this paltry, hot, green lizard to me. They want a show? I’ll give them one they will talk about for years.

     I ready up my stance. My feet digging into the ground, I brace myself. I’ve never faced a liminal in a single combat spar before, so this is going to be a learning experience. But on the other side of that coin, they don’t know I have some semblance of training. Even if its just a hobby. She charges forward. Very fast. Her face is priceless as I raise my blade into a guard and parry her strike. The strike resonates through my blade, and I feel it in my bones. I never understood how such small creatures have such strength. But her strike was extremely telegraphed, and easy to read. She jumps backwards, and I go on the offensive.

     I walk forward, lowering my sword. The lizard searches my eyes, trying to find my angle. I mock charge, and make her flinch. I’ll have to give her two later. I go back into stance and sidestep, she follows with her own. Its like a strange ballroom dance. I step, she steps. I go in, with a nice horizontal swing. She blocks, and replies with her own attack. Leaping backwards, I avoid the first strike. But she continues her assault, and brings down an overhead strike that brings me to a knee when I put my sword in between me and my head. I grit my teeth as her strength bears down upon my blade. I’m in a tight spot.

     So fuck it. I let the sword slip from my grasp, and roll to a side. I barely avoid being maimed as her own blade crashes into the sand beside me. The crowd is roaring. I bullrush her, planting my head right below her breasts. I wrap my arms around her waist, and pick her up. She has strength, but virtually no weight. Its just cumbersome getting the tail out of the way. I slam her into the ground, and hear her go “oof” as the air escapes from her lungs. She’s stunned, and I’m straddling her. What to do now.

     Sword. Sword. I reach towards the hilt of a blade. I need to get her to yield fast, my stamina is quickly fading. My thoughts are met with a force flipping me onto my back. Now I’m being straddled. I’m turned on by this, for obvious reasons. I grin devilishly at this beautiful warrior. Her ear-fin things twitch and she cocks her head a little to one side. Without missing a beat, she pulls a dagger from some type of vambrace thing on her arm. Sneaky. She spins the dagger into a reverse grip and brings it down hard. I catch her wrists, the knife five inches from my chest. I feel like I’m in Saving Private Ryan, trying to not get shanked by a Nazi-skinheaded fuck. Except its a hot lizard in a bikini. Time for a hail mary.

“If you stop, I’ll let you have sex with me!” I gasp out in desperation. Why did I say that?

     Nonetheless, the onslaught stops as the lizard looks me dead in the eyes and licks her lips. Those full, angelic, lips. I take my chance, and flip her over onto her back. Back on top, I hold her wrists to the ground. This was getting pretty hot. She is visibly blushing. I gingerly take the dagger out of her hand and inspect it. Its plain with that same pink tinge to it.

     I look at her and smile. And plunge the blade right into her heart. That was cruel and edgy, but there are no rules in love and war. I swore to go down fighting, and I will. The crowd somehow gets louder. I remove the dagger from the new meat-sheath, but there’s not a drop of blood. And the girl is squirming around and panting heavily. Did I just send her into an orgasm? This has to be a dream. She stops and her head goes limp to the side. Did she just pass out? I shake my head. I don’t care. I just want to leave this place. I stand up and face the Queen Bee.

     And immediately fall back down. I was running on pure adrenaline at this point. I lay down and close my eyes. I don’t care what happens at this point. I fought and won. I will die from heatstroke with pride. I feel myself drifting off, as the familiar succubus begins to speak to the crowd. I don’t catch what she is saying. It rattles on into empty noise. The all too familiar waves of unconsciousness envelop me, and drag me down.

———————————————————————————————————————————

“Wakey, wakey!” Slap.
“Hey! I paid good money for you. You’d better not be broken before I get my turn!~” Slap.
“I must say, the arachnes really picked a winner! Such killer instinct. I’m sure my mistress will have fun with you, hunk.”
Prod prod.
Splash.

     The water’s cold and slightly sweet. I’m just thirsty. My eyes flutter open. A woman is mere inches from my face, grinning. Her skin is a strange, sickly grey. With strange maroon markings running up her cleavage to her jawbone. She’s very elaborately dressed. What looks like a a grey, frilly miniskirt hugs her waist. She’s wearing grey fluffy go-go boots. Maroon thigh high socks reach, well, thigh high. She wore what I would best describe as a lacy lingerie corset-tanktop hybrid. Her midriff showing off toned, feminine abs. Her unusually thick spadetail swayed back and forth lazily. A maroon ribbon tied in a cute bow at the base of the spade. Something hanging from a silver chain attached to the bow glinted in the light. A silver pendant, the astronomy sign of Mars. This was an alp. Her wings spread, stretching out the the muscles. For some strange reason, a maroon and grey cape was being used as a blanket on me. She really dressed elaborately.

     I’m in a chair, my hands bound behind my back. My feet remain unrestrained. I’m in a different cell, but its the same layout as before. Dirt floor, single lantern. Dim. A bucket of water and what looks like trail mix sit by my chair. Feeding time is soon, I hope. I know I would enjoy some food for my victory. But first, I had to deal with this overdramatic alp.

“Well good morning sleepyhead!~” the alp exclaimed, acting all giddy.

“I was sooo worried you were damaged. I was just about to feed you to the ant pit here. I’m glad you woke up though! This makes me happppyyyy!!” she continued, squeezing my cheek as if I were her little adorable nephew.

“What do you want.” I asked. I just wanted to cut to the chase. I was over theatrics for ten lifetimes to come.

“Well, Killer,” the alp says, an impish grin spreading across her face, “you’re mine now. Well, more appropriately, my mistresses.” She finishes, brushing aside a strand of her silver hair.

“You’re going to be showcased. To allure and arouse. Fights of glamour and decadence! Human versus Monsterkind! The battles of old! I can see it now…” She turns around, obviously lost in her own imagination. Her tail whips side to side, drawing my gaze to her ass peeking out below her skirt. This alp was well endowed. She has been around for quite a while.

“Only catch is… After the fights, you’ll be giving…Autographs. Women of all kind will pay out the wazoo for your seed. Me included. But…Maybe later!~” she finishes again. Twirling around, she struts up to me and gets down on her knees between my legs. This is getting spooky.

“But sadly, I’m not your first customer. She’s outside.” she frowns, using her finger to imitate a tear falling down her cheek. She stands up, and walks to the door and opens it.

“Make it fast, we have much ground to cover. I want to be at the chatau by the morning moon.” she sternly tells an unseen entity.

“And no marks! We need him unravaged. You’re paying in service, not money. So you don’t get the VIP treatment!~” she adds as an afterthought. The sounds of her boots clacking away, I gulp. This was it.

A slight giggle originates in the hallway. Oh no. The lizardman from before walks in and closes the door. She turns to me and unclasps her bra and lets it fall to the ground. A mischevious smile spread across her face as she eyeballs my precarious position. Her supple boobs look great in this light of the cell.

“You fought like no man I’ve ever fought before…” she says, straddling me in my seat.

“Show me what else you can do?~” she adds with a giggle.
I am so fucked.

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4 thoughts on “Gladiators in the Night – 1”

  1. Good story I don’t see most mamono having a preference for a certain type of man. This story is good I just found that daughter and flashback a little out of the blue

  2. “I’m glad. Its nice people are finally coming out of their shell. I have–”
    You poor, naive girl.

    “Human versus Monsterkind! The battles of old!”
    Interesting phrasing. Is there no longer a conflict with the Order in the monster girls’ world? Is human/monster interaction different? These mamono seem rather more brutal than in the encyclopedia.

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