Combat Arena

I stared at the door for several minutes, clinging onto the hope that he might return, buy me out of this contract and whisk me off in his arms to a castle somewhere miles away. He didn't return; I turned on the TV and found a reasonable film to watch on my upgraded package. I had seen it before; I just needed something to kill the silence. I took the t-shirt off and curled up under the covers naked.

The medical treatment I had received was excellent, and even before the end of the film my aches and pains had all but faded to nothing. As I lay on my side, I could almost feel my muscles recovering and my tender bum returning to normal feeling; I slowly drifted back to sleep again.

I woke up with a start, glancing at the clock. I had slept a full day and it was 7:02 as I rubbed my eyes, the sound of my door alarm confusing me while I worked out what it was. "Oh," I said to myself checking the sensor, it was my trainer, as promised. "Oh, one second," I stammered. "Okay," I said rolling onto my back sorting out the sheets as the door disengaged and my trainer came in.

"Lazy bitch," he said looking at me still in bed, his eyes glancing up and down me on the bed.

"Jealous," I replied back with a smile, reaching out of the sheets with my arm to perch on my elbow. Carefully holding the thin sheets up against my chest, trapping them underneath me and under my arm to keep myself hidden, although my bare arms, back and shoulders gave away I was topless.

"Yeah, of course," he said with a tone of agreement. "ID67489, her name is Faye; I've sent you a message with the details," his eyes locked onto my bare arms, glancing down to my chest.

"Thanks," I replied, "Was it tough to get?" I added.

"Name and ID, no," he said, "Contact details, not as easy."

"How is she?" I asked.

"Best medical care available, she will be fine," he said.

"Yeah, but how is she today?" I asked.

"Still in medical, so details are not easy to come by at my clearance," he said looking at me, "I suspect very sore though."

My email beeped again as he sent another message to me, or at least I assumed it was from him; there was no sender as it was encrypted. "Didn't come from me if anyone asks," he said.

I just nodded at him with a smile, "So what is your plan for the day?" I asked.

"Work, got another few girls in matches today, the usual. You?" he asked.

"This pretty much, make the most of a day off. I don't intend to move far today, then gym tomorrow I guess, get back into it," I said.

"On the topic of gym, your routine is being changed," he said looking at me; he knew I would question it, yet the reasoning was not forthcoming.

"Why?" I pressed.

"Because," he began, almost like he was still picking his wording, "Because you are getting too muscled; your image is the girl next door and no guy wants it to look like his girlfriend could kick his ass... easily."

"Isn't that the idea though?" I said looking at him.

"No, the idea is for you to make money for the organizers, and as you stand, petite, small breasts, innocent look, and... other attributes," he said looking up and down my body under the sheets, "You are making them a shit ton of money."

He accessed my TV using it to display what was on his tablet. It showed my progression, body shape wise, in the last few months. I had gone from a petite girl with zero body fat, to a well-toned, almost athletic physique. The display cycled a few times, showing weekly CGI generated pictures of me from tiny, slowly progressing to what I was now. Don't get me wrong, I was still tiny, but my "girl next door" look had given way to an athletic body, which apparently didn't sell as well. I noticed on the third or fourth cycle that the pictures of me were naked and uncensored. Even though they were CGI I was unsure if the more intimate areas were generated from default libraries, or if it had modeled my breasts and pussy as well.

I pondered it for a few seconds before deciding it really wasn't relevant, "So what do I do?" I asked, shifting my body around under the sheets, aware that I was naked and the sheets were probably see-through.

"Lay off the weights, you have the strength anyway, cardio and endurance is what you are to concentrate on. You have a better muscle definition than most males, it doesn't suit your character," he said looking at me.

"Will that not put me at a disadvantage hand to hand?" I asked.

"No, agility, is more useful hand to hand at your weight; you weigh 110lbs wet through, if you catch an accurate punch, no matter how well toned, you are going down like a sack of shit," he said honestly.

"Great..." I said mocking him.

"I'm afraid you're a commodity Fi, so suck it up. You can change your image, but the betting figures on even your small matches are getting astronomical. If you have been told to alter your training, then trust me, the money is expected to be good; play it right and you are set for life," he explained, all the time looking at the sheets around my midriff.

"Okay," I said, "Will take your word for it," I added.

"Your choice, my advice is what I know based on my limited clearance," he said, his eyes not deviating from me. "I'm sorry," he said looking up at me, "See-through sheets."

"Oh," I said, the thin sheets pulled tight against my nipples were indeed see-through as I let go of them to loosen them around me making them go opaque again. I let myself slip onto my back, feeling the sheets settle against my naked body; I saw his eyes divert south in tandem with my hands as I covered between my legs.

"What are you wearing?" he asked, looking at me again.

"I assume you saw and can tell me what I am wearing," I said smiling at him, "Forgot they were see-through."

"Only top half," he said, "Although didn't see any giveaway lines from any underwear..." he added looking at me.

"I am naked," I admitted with a suggestive smile.

"You will be the death of me," he said, his eyes still locked onto my nipples which were pushing up against the sheets, clearly visible through them.

"Wanna die happy?" I teased opening my legs beneath the sheets.

He hesitated for a second, not long, but long enough to make me smile, "Wanna see?" I asked, still smiling at him.

Again he didn't answer as I rolled back onto my side, shifting the covers and allowing them to slide in front of me, just holding them across my breasts. He could see my naked side from head to toe, the sheets gathered in front of my crotch enough to hide my modesty, but only just.

"Fucking hell Fi," he whispered, his eyes locked onto me as I lay in front of him.

"Hand? Mouth?" I said teasingly sucking my finger before sliding my hand down my body and using the sheets to hide it as I slid a finger inside myself, "Pussy?" I added.

"Behave," he said, "Worth way more than my job."

"You had best go, don't want you getting into trouble..." I said with a smile, hiding my disappointment.

"Yeah, shift starts soon," he said looking at me again.

He left the room, leaving me on my own. I rolled onto my side and let my mind wander. Sex was on tap; say the word and quite literally extremely good and well programmed AI machines would do to me as I wished, making me cum when I wanted and for as long as I wanted. Nothing beat a real person though, and especially a real person who at least gave the pretense that he loved you. Being a piece of meat, although feeling nice, was not the same as someone making love to you; I longed for a guy to kiss down my neck, sucking my nipples and then down my sides to between my legs, the gentle electric touch of a human tongue on my clit, the warmth of the tongue and the coolness of breath as he fumbled his way to making me orgasm.

The last time anyone went down on me was my ex-boyfriend, before I signed up to here well over 7 months ago. That was the last time I had loving sex and my body craved it, so badly. I have used the machines, soft and gentle, hard and fast, brutal and painful, long and slow, and yet nothing really satisfied. I kicked the covers off and got into the shower. "Cold," I said as I stood naked, the icy water bouncing off my bare skin and flowing down my body. Even the cool water flowing over my hairless vagina felt nice, sexual, making me horny as the cool water contrasted so nicely with my natural warmth down there.

I let it dry me off and lay on the bed naked. "Fuck it," I muttered to myself as I opened my arms and legs in a star shape, "Fuck me," I said out loud.

The ascending beeps of the computer replied to my request, "Conditions?" the soothing AI voice asked me.

"Not anal," I said, "Other than that, make me squeal."

"Confirmed," the AI said, pausing for a few moments before I felt the gentle touch of the drone against the inside of my thigh.

I moaned softly, my skin twitching from anticipation as it slowly rose up the inside of my leg, its speed teasingly slow, but it didn't even slow down as it pushed into me. "God," I whispered as it filled me, my excitement easily accepting the device inside me as it increased in size until I felt a stab of discomfort. It retracted and started to slowly thrust into me. I lifted my hips in time with it as it screwed me slowly, but it held me down firmly, pinning me to the bed with a tentacle across my tummy. Two more held my wrists, gently stretching my arms apart but twisting my shoulders downwards. The discomfort in my bound arms caused me to arch my back as best I could with the restraint across my tummy, my breasts lifting into the air, my nipples rock hard and tingling for attention.

"Yes," I breathed as it flicked my clit, just the once, as it continued to work itself inside me. It aggressively pinched my nipples simultaneously, pulling them up off my chest before letting go, but returning to grab and twist them. "Fuck yes," I breathed, "Fuck me," I pleaded.

I was on my back, legs wide open, thin tentacles were wrapped around my ankles holding my feet down. Another pair held across my thighs to further restrict me. A thicker one laid across my tummy as two more held my wrists tight. My legs were held open; my pussy was visibly wet as a 6-inch organic dildo that was the thickness of my wrist was being forced inside me as I gasped for air.

I felt it constrict around my neck, forcing my head back a bit as my body erupted in pleasure, "Yesss," I breathed as I came; it squeezed my clit, so hard I yelled out in pain. Ignoring me, it clamped onto my nipples and squeezed; no words left my lips, just the sound of labored breath as I shuddered on my back again and again. After a few moments, the pressure reduced as it gently caressed my throbbing clit. "Oh yessssss," I breathed, my body pulsing in unison as I felt liquid explode down my legs as I came so hard again and again.

It retracted and left me on my back, my chest glistening with sweat, my pussy literally dripping as I caught my breath. I swapped to the other side of the bed; to call it a wet patch would be under estimating it, it looked like someone had poured water over it. I regained my composure and went for another shower, my sexual urge dulled for now, but I knew I was craving a man, and no machine could get anywhere near close to scratching that itch, no matter how hard and deep it went.

The sheets were changed when I got back as I got dressed. I checked my messages, I had to visit medical, but the one that caught my eye was the encrypted one. It listed her injuries, with pictures; she was literally ripped open; her skin stretching to beyond its capacity, a tear started to form. Slowly at first, but the extra space given by the tear caused him to ram right into her, tearing her a good couple of inches. I closed it and stared at the wall for a few seconds.

"Hey, you okay?" I typed, hesitating over the send icon, I deleted it. Of course she wasn't okay. Sorry sounded too condescending; how did you open conversation in that situation? I swayed from sympathy to accusation; she did after all give no warning until it was too late. I closed it and was about to head for medical when a message came in causing me to jump, it just read "Sorry." It was from Faye.

How did she have my details? Probably the same way I had hers I guess. "That's okay, how are you?" I asked.

"Out of medical for a few hours; you busy?" she replied.

"Not really," I answered back.

My door chimed, the bio signature showed it was her. Nerves kicked in; how did she know where I was, and more to the point, what did she want? I looked around and thought for a few moments. "Computer, monitor room, Orange," I said, giving it the effective command of dialing the first 2 numbers for the emergency services and to dial the third on my say so.

I let her in and looked at her; she was a mess still, although the pain killers were allowing her to move freely. Her face was scratched, a fairly deep gash down her right cheek was held closed by some medi-strips, her right eye was bruised slightly and her lip was still a lot thicker than nature had intended. I gestured to a seat and she sat down gingerly. She was wearing a simple vest top and jogging bottoms; her hair was tidy which seemed odd considering the rest of her appearance.

"You okay?" she asked.

"Better than you," I said, instantly regretting the perceived tone I answered with.

She didn't notice it, or just ignored it, "Looks worse than it is," she said, "Mainly just bruising."

"Can't believe you are out already," I said.

"Yeah, let me out to get a change of clothes and generally have a wander around. Nothing is broken, and internal injuries are okay," she said. "In fact, weirdly, it is my lip that hurts most, the rest in practically healed already."

Accelerated healing was advanced; the treatment we got was average, but in life threatening situations the best was used. Death of a contestant was an inconvenience; it raised questions in the Senate that the dignitaries didn't like to answer. It also lost them money. "You okay then?" I asked.

"Yep, they sent me to Obama General, proper 5-star treatment," she said.

Obama General was a private and very expensive hospital, always the first to roll out new technology as well as boasting some very famous and rich patients in the past. "What happened?" I asked.

"You not watched it?" she asked to which I just shook my head. "I got jumped by a squad of them, somehow escaped, got to that clearing and realized it was a trap. I froze, I should have shouted when I heard you, but I didn't, what a bitch," she said, her voice shaking a few times as she neared tears.

"It's fine," I said resting my hand on her knee, "I got greedy, I should have just sniped you and taken the points. Play with fire and you get burnt," I added.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Fine, bit sore, but am okay now. Back to active straight away, so tomorrow is my next match I think," I said.

"Me too," she said looking at me.

"Really?" I said surprised.

"Yeah," she said, "I'm fine; as said, best treatment was given."

"Wow, buy a capsule," I said, "Saved me from a similar fate."

She just smiled at me and laughed, "It is a girls vs guys match tomorrow," she said. I hadn't checked what it was, I just saw it on one of the many messages I had, "Two is better than one..."

"You asking me to squad up?" I asked looking at her.

"Oh no, nothing that official, swap trackers, work together, see how it goes. We are similar tactics and trained from what I can see; up to you though," she said looking at me.

I was a bit taken by surprise by her offer, "Yeah, okay," I said.

She stayed and we chatted for a while, similar situation to me, no money and bloody mindedness prevented her from kneeling for a living. Family disowned her; signed up and spent all cash on training. First proper game and she got destroyed. She stood up after an hour or so and said she had best head back to medical, "Oh best go with you," I said, "I've been called."

We headed to medical, she got taken into a private room, as I got ushered into another one and a doctor came in. He was mid-50s I estimated, tall, a full head of hair which was starting to grey slightly. "Can you strip to your underwear please," he asked politely.

I glanced around, a little taken aback; my other scans had just been done through my clothes, but his authority overruled my hesitation as I slipped my top and trousers off. I was wearing a white bra, with matching panties; both were designed for comfort and not image, but he seemed to approve. His eyes wandering up and down my body as he practically touched me up with his eyes. "Sorry, Fi is it? Or Fiona?"

"Fi," I said with a look and tone of suspicion.

"Sorry Fi, bra as well I am afraid," he said; his tone was a genuine Doctor's, where he knew it was embarrassing but was required.

I hesitated for a second, but reached up behind my back, unclipped my bra and removed it. I covered my breasts. "Arms out or by your side please," he said as he tore his eyes away from me and picked up a hand scanner.

He glided it over my body, slowly and deliberately as he did a standard scan that every other doctor had done with me fully clothed. "Any pain?" he asked.

"Nothing too bad," I said.

"Where is the pain?" he asked.

"Bum, obviously, and an ache in my back where I hit the floor," I said.

"Do you want any pain killers?" he asked.

"No, ta," I said, very aware I was practically naked in a glass-windowed room. He stared at my panties for too long to be comfortable. "Panties?" I asked, anticipating that I was going to be removing those as well.

"No," he said quickly, "That would require form filling on my behalf. You can get dressed, all clear."

I felt myself blush; he had just been a perv making me stand in front of him half naked. Embarrassment gave way to anger as I grabbed my clothes and put them back on. He could just watch any of my matches and see me very naked, why make me do it in person? I didn't question it, I did consider making a complaint, but my word against his and who would believe a contestant.

I headed back to my room sitting on my bed in silence, feeling violated. You heard the stories of it going on, but it was so humiliating when it was you who was targeted. I flicked the TV on and found something watchable.

"Credit," I heard my computer say.

"Balance," I said as the computer displayed my bank balance.

It should have been 2,000 credits, yet it was 8,000. I navigated to the breakdown and a one-off credit of 6,000 had just arrived, just labelled "Merchandise."

As a contestant, all of my matches were recorded, all of my activity was for sale on video and also in hologram form as well for roleplaying me, or other contestants I interact with. As my body got explored by the arena machines, accurate sex toys were produced simulating my mouth, vagina and anus. They ranged from simple hand held devices, to full on replica animatronic dolls. All were subject to demand and that list was pretty much in order.

I hovered over the internet browser for a second or two before I tapped it opening a search, "Fiona, ID82876."

All of my videos were available, as were highlights, which was expected. Also there were hand held toys for my mouth, pussy and ass available. There was also a bust available of me which stopped just below my breasts; my mouth was of course open and it boasted "Accurate skin feel and simulated sucking action like the real thing."

I browsed the catalogue, morbid curiosity getting the better of me as I scrolled through various toys that all simulated my body. The toys were 150 credits each; the bust was 250 for a basic one or 500 for the animatronic one. I got 1% of sales, pretax which was 20%; that was a lot of sales. It felt strange, knowing that my mouth was probably sucking multiple cocks at that moment in time. The accuracy was very good; sales came with a year of free upgrades to software to change the toys to better replicate the real thing as they got more data.