in-the-ring
SCIENCE FICTION FANTASY

In The Ring

In The Ring

by theselegs
19 min read
4.43 (4400 views)
adultfiction

Holding his head in his hands as he waited in the staging pen, the metal bench as hard as fate, Lore could barely hear the announcer over the screaming fans. Without his translation device, not a privilege afforded to prisoners, he wouldn't be able to understand anyway. Three quarters of them were Glodarians, the native species, as thick around the chest as two of him. He had thought their primitive traditions so amusing until accidently insulting a Highlady Glorite, an important public official directedly connected to the barbaric ritual that passed for a justice system on this backward out-system planet.

Inside the pen, a bell sounded, which meant two new names would be up on the call board. Lore almost sobbed, refusing to look. He heard two stand up, across the room from each other, and move toward the gate. Lore sighed in relief, but what did it matter if he was beaten to death now or a little later? He watched the door to the auditorium close behind two Glodarians, resulting in a cheer from the thousands of voices. He wondered if his wife was watching; they'd had tickets. She'd been as excited as he about the show, the 'fascinating cultural traditions' the planet was known for. She might have even been the one who brought Gloria up as a leave destination.

The prisoner across from him was staring, menacingly. Lore swallowed slowly, trying to keep from tensing up and failing miserably.

"Worry not, little one," said the hulking beast beside him. "They rarely put outworlders in matches that will kill them."

Lore dared a glance. He looked just like all the others. Huge. ugly. Intimidating. But his voice, though gravelly, was soft as he spoke surprisingly good Prushtoc.

"I'm Glad."

Lore took a longer look. This large, imposing man looked just like all the rest. "Glad about what?"

The Glodarian laughed, a disgusting sound full of Gs and Ls. "My name. In your language, means to be happy. I am that, little friend."

Lore was aghast. "You like fighting in this?"

"Only two more to go," Glad told him, winking. "I am in for a pretty minor crime, so they put me up against the likes of you. I am professor at the university."

"There's a university here?" Lore asked dubiously.

The Glodarian brute laughed earnestly. It sounded like he was going to throw up. "Yes, little man. Lore. Is that how it's said?" He brushed the name patch on Lore's prison uniform when he looked up in surprise. "I always wonder why you cover so much of yourselves up all the time. I would like to tell my class about it."

Lore straighten himself up. "It's just proper on Rushto. Rushto is more..."

"What?" Glad asked with a smirk after some seconds. "Civilized?"

The obvious answer was 'yes', but Lore swallowed it carefully. "What are you in for?"

"Ah, that is a long story," he sighed. "What about you?"

Lore looked up nervously this time when the buzzer sounded, and he realized with relief he couldn't read it.

Glad stood up sighing, patting his head with astonishing gentleness, at least for his rock-like hands. "Tell me later, maybe." He left side-by-side with a nervous Hussian roughly half his size, murmuring encouragingly.

Looking around at the remaining pool, Lore's heart beat faster still. "I... err... I don't suppose any of you fellows feel the same way?"

The creature across from him grumbled something in the Glodarian language, menacingly. He guessed. They only had one tone for use while threatening death or ordering breakfast. Lore looked away as though wondering why the next buzzer had sounded with only a fraction of the usual cheering and little more than polite applause.

The tension in his muscles began to ache as the matches went on. His stomach was in knots. Losing control of his breathing already when two Glodarians left him alone with the crazy-eyed figure before him. Quite certain he was going to die, Lore couldn't help using what might be his last minutes picturing all the ways the beast was going to tear him limb from limb.

That last match sounded like it must have been a good one, and it seemed to be taking a long time. What would happen if he passed out in this cell, would they still rip him apart just for the show? It's not like it could be much easier for the beast that stared him down, broad shoulders heaving with his grunting breath.

Lore decided reluctantly that he would face this with the dignity and control of a Rushtoc. His legs wobbly, he forced them to carry him through the gate and into the Colosseum. He fell back in surprise when he saw that several figures already stood there in the auditorium's glaring light, and was pushed up and forward by the creature behind him, dropping him to his knees before the blurry figure. The Glodorian said something, sounding, if possible, more angry than usual.

The Highlady herself, Mistress Khegal leaned down to him, placing something in his hand, his translator. He squinted up at her as his eyes adjusted, unsure why he was still more terrified as he made out her full-lipped smirk.

Though large and thick as any of her savage race, Khegal had a sort of beauty to her, a raw allure. Almost aggressively attractive. Every distinctly female attribute was exaggerated in her body, and accentuated further by the garments that could hardly be called clothing back on Rushto. He turned his face away from her impressive cleavage as he placed the device in his ear.

Mistress Khegal stood tall and proud. He could have seen her separation if he had been brave enough to look away from the ground between her feet, but less than that had landed him in this situation in the first place. She took two steps back and her feet were joined by a pair much smaller, in scuffed Prushtoc boots mostly covered by the long, loose-fitting slacks common to his planet. He glanced up carefully and his wife looked back at him wide-eyed.

"Callie," Lore gasped.

"Callie," Mistress Khegal repeated, setting a large hand on the shoulder of Callie's favorite dark blue blazer. "Has been pleading for your reprieve."

Callie looked away, reddening.

Lore swallowed slowly. "Did it work?"

Khegal laughed, and the processed result in his left ear was almost musical. Her lips were so full, like no lips on Rushto. "You are to be given the opportunity," she said. "Your wife has made a most compelling offer."

Callie said nothing, still looking down, almost glowing red.

"She explained your ignorance quite thoroughly," Khegal said with a chuckle.

"That's...!" Callie squeaked, and then shook her head meekly. "That's not exactly what I said."

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"Yes, I remember," the Mistress purred. "You admitted that your Prushtoc sensibilities were prudish."

"Yes," Callie admitted.

"You agreed that there was such an opportunity for an exchange of cultures, so that simple-minded people as your husband might come to appreciate our way of life."

"I don't think you phrased it quite like that before," Callie murmured.

"Mm," the Mistress said. "But you did say, quite emphatically, that you would do anything to show how much you learned. So your husband could be spared the ring."

"I... I did," Callie said. "I still feel the same way."

"And you, condemned, do you agree?"

"Yes!" Lore assured her. "Callie, I..." He trailed off as Callie looked at him again. her gaze was steady, but she looked nervous. "What do you have to do?"

Her throat hidden as always beneath her high collar, Callie swallowed audibly. "I've agreed to something most brazen, I'm afraid," she told him quietly.

"Anything," Khegal's husky voice was recognizably mocking even in her language. Her large hand moved from Callie's shoulder. "Anything, she said." Her long fingers curved down, low on her belly. "Any fucking thing to save you."

Callie gasped as the hand came down firmly over her crotch. She raised a hand to Lore as he rose in protest. "Please," she whispered.

"Callie... no..."

"It's that, or face Bloodghoul," the Mistress assured him. "Would you like to know why he's called Bloodghoul?"

Lore shook his head, his face slack.

"I meant what I said to Mistress Khegal," Callie said, her voice breathy as she stepped closer to the imposing Highlady, allowing her easy access to her legs, hips, and the well hidden area between. The Mistress smiled as she caressed. "We thought ourselves so superior, we refused to really experience the culture. I... I want to..."

"She wants to see a Glodarian dick," the Mistress said. "She wants to feel it."

"Don't listen to them," said the brute Lore was set to fight if he refused this deal. "What kind of coward could call it living, with the memory of his wife taken by a real man? I promise to make your death quick, and spectacular."

Lore shivered. Maybe he was a coward, but it still seemed preferable to dying, no matter how quick, or spectacular. He studied his wife's red cheeks, her breathlessly parted lips, her pleading eyes, and nodded. Two of the huge men standing at the outsides of the group seized Bloodghoul and hauled him from the ring.

"Mmm," Callie said, barely audible over the approving roar from the stands.

"Good choice," Mistress Khegal said. "I hate one-sided matches like that. Almost as much as I hate the phony ones that let offenders off too easily. Glad?"

"Yes, Mistress," the hulking man next to her said nervously.

"You are acquainted with the necessary delicacy to handle these Rushtoc, are you not?"

Glad, who Lore hadn't recognised due to them all looking the same, shuffled his feet. "This counts as my last bout?"

"As I said," she snapped, glancing at him. "Have you the finesse to bring this delicate creature to climax?"

"I... I do believe so," he said. He glanced at Lore as he moved his huge hands hesitantly toward the narrow Rushtoc woman. "Sorry, little friend."

It was no doubt better than letting Bloodghoul do it, but still. He wasn't sure if he could watch this. "No hard feelings," Lore assured him, his voice strained.

"Actually," Glad said as the Mistress placed her hand over his, guiding it into Callie's blazer. "I think I am getting a bit of a hard feeling."

The audience cheered what Lore considered a crass joke given the situation. He looked around rather than what was being done to poor Callie, and from the faces he could see he was the only one. It seemed unbelievable that these creatures could be so base, and that Callie would subject herself to this for any reason. He felt so weak, and so guilty for his weakness. He couldn't bear to look at what she was willing to go through to save him.

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. He knew by a soft grunt and the smell that Mistress Khegal had crouched next to him. He tensed up as she placed a hand on his thigh.

"You need to see this," she said, tracing a line up his leg. "The look on Callie's face. You still think she is doing this all for you? Look at her."

Confused, terrified, he did as the Mistress commanded him. Callie's complexion was flushed deeply. Her breath puffed out from between parted lips, which curved into a little smile as he met her eyes. Glad had both hands in her blazer, pulling it back from her shoulders. He held her close, rocking against her sensually, and she rocked back, grinding against him in a lusty rhythm. One of her hands was over his, and her other arm curved up as it was released from the sleeve, around the back of the Glodarian's neck. She had wanted to do this, for him but not only him; she enjoyed the touches of this hulking creature, the adoration of the eager crowd.

Mistress Khegal placed a finger to Lore's slack jaw, pushing it closed with a chuckle that vibrated tantalizingly in his left ear. "Your woman wears too many clothes."

"P... perhaps..." Lore muttered.

Glad glanced at them with a smirk, lifting the loose blouse from her trouser top. She bit her lip, the screens above the auditorium showed her for the crowd in intimate close-up.

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Lore's penis throbbed to a life of its own. In his shock, he could no longer contain his baser urges. The Highlady's hand on his leg, her body leaning close enough to feel the heat of those glorious tits through the blazer that had matched his wife's. As it seemed only fair, he offered no resistance to its removal.

Glad's hands moved up Callie's body, pushing her shirt higher and exposing bare skin. It nearly glowed white next to the dark grey flesh of the Glodarian. She raised her arms so he could very slowly pull it up. when the garment reached her armpits, revealing the utilitarian bra, he skinned the last quickly, pulling it off her face and sending it flying along with her hat. The crowd cheered. Her long hair spilled from the tie that had been knocked loose and was now removed by the huge creature. Shaking the red locks from her face, she looked to Lore again.

"There," Mistress Khegal said, then frowned as she examined the Rushtoc physiology. "Are you sure this is a woman? Where are her breasts?"

"They are here," Glad said, his hand on one. "Not big, but hot and sensitive. I think they are feeling very good to be touched like this."

"Oh..." Callie moaned.

"Good too, to be seen," Glad said. he pushed her bra up one cup at a time, moving her long red hair aside so he could kiss her neck. She shivered. The Glodarian glanced at Lore. "Your wife's tits are perfect, and smell so good." He sniffed as he lifted her by her wrists and one breast, against his wide, bare chest.

"I can smell her lust from here," the Mistress said. She looked at Lore with amusement. He could see her in his peripheral vision, but he couldn't take his eyes off Callie. "And yours."

He shook his head, but was belied by his dick, which had become rigid. Throbbing incessantly, it seemed to bob its head in agreement.

"Your woman has a lovely body. Narrow, delicate. The Rushtoc ideal. Do your women grow wet when aroused?"

His cock nodded enthusiastically, sure it could smell from there, through trousers and undergarment, the sweet invitation of Callie's pussy. She was really enjoying this depraved display; Lore couldn't understand it, but his throbbing manhood obviously did.

Carefully, the Glodarian shifted his grip, turning Callie and leaving her standing again. He crouched before her on one knee, now about the same height. He nuzzled her breast with such delicacy, it was easy to forget that the creature could snap her in half with ease. As he sucked her supple flesh between thick lips, he unclasped her belt and her pants. Slowly, tantalisingly, the fabric was tugged down past her hips, her buttocks. Breath was bated until finally they slipped from the slight bulge of her ass, and fell in a pile around her feet, then a cheer rose.

"Bend over, my dear," the Mistress called. She smiled as Callie bent forward, allowing herself to be guided into position by the Glodarian, placing her face against the only article of clothing the men here wore: a loincloth entirely inadequate to cover the enormous Glodarian sex organ as it reached full staff. Without being told, Callie's tongue darted out against it. It looked absurdly large next to her lips, but her mouth stretched wide as they came against the tip and enveloped the bulging alien head. Her eyes rolled to his as she pulled hair out of her face. Glad helped her with that, and took the locks in a firm grip, encouraging her to try to get more of his impressive member into her wet, eager mouth. He pulled her off gasping but smiling and she took the huge cock in her hand as she kissed the glistening underside.

"She likes that huge dick," the Mistress observed.

Lore and his dick both nodded.

"Did you know that the proper, civilized Rushtoc woman of yours held such depravity in her hidden body?"

Lore shook his head, but his dick continued to bob excitedly. How had his dick known when he hadn't?

The Mistress of the ring pushed his face upward to where the screens showed Callie's underwear, centred on the area between her legs. The white fabric had absorbed enough liquid to soak it, sticking firmly to her every crevice, barely translucent. His mind screamed with disbelief, even anger. Jealousy. Betrayal. His dick continued its frantic agreement.

"Mmmm," the Mistress purred into his ear as she moved behind him. She reached around. "An impressive member yourself, for a Rushtoc."

"But that thing... he isn't really going to put it inside her, is he? It's... No, it wouldn't even fit."

"I think this woman is more accommodating that you had known. I am aching to see that drenched gash uncovered, aren't you?" The Mistress took firm grip and it bulged further, throbbing, nodding urgently.

Glad peeled the panties and the Mistress shuddered. "Oh, for the glory, she smells good." Glad coaxed her carefully from his dick so he could straighten her up without getting up from his knees. He pulled the panties down and lunged upward as he lifted one foot free. His big Glodarian tongue caressed her and she responded eagerly. She squirmed and cried out.

The crowd loved it, clapping and cheering became deafening as Callie screamed and thrashed on her feet, liquid pouring out of her as the alien retreated from her gash. She shuddered, bracing herself against the broad Glodarian shoulder.

Mistress Khegal moaned into his ear, rubbing his cock. It wanted to come, but he held back stubbornly, unwilling to give up his control so easily. "An orgasm," the Mistress said. "You were to come before I would release your husband from his obligation, and you have. Do you want to stop this?"

Callie's red hair hung in her face as she recovered, her shoulders and chest heaving as opaque liquid still ran down her narrow leg. The crowd became silent again, anticipation building. Lore could not bring himself to be surprised when she shook her head.

The crowd approved heartily, and Lore had his mouth shut gently for him again. "What would you like then, little woman?" Khegal asked.

Callie leaned up against the Glodarian hulk, kissing him. The Mistress pulled his face toward hers, but still he looked. His penis demanded it.

"It's so big," Callie murmured.

It was huge. way too big. There was no way...

Glad slid it upward as he lifted her by her ass. she cried out as her vagina stretched to make way for his rigid girth. Lore felt himself losing the fight against ejaculation. He fought off his desire with a fury most uncharacteristic of his people, but perhaps that was in response to a most unRushtoc behaviour from his secretly slutty wife. Why, he wondered, had she never expressed such desires to him?

Callie cried out excitedly as the huge alien cock disappeared an additional centimeter with every carefully measured thrust. "Mm!" she said, and, "It's so hot!" "Thick." "Tight."

"Oh, Saints," Lore muttered.

A sultry voice buzzed in his ear. "Do you like watching this as much as she like doing it?"

"I don't think so, but, damn it, it's really going in. It's kind of incredible. Kind of..."

Callie shrieked ecstatically as the entirety of Glad's dick pushed into her. She moved her hips, her wet squeezing flesh around it. Her red hair bounced, an erratic flare of colour, as Glad lifted her. The crowd was an excited buzz, growing momentarily louder as Glad let the much smaller woman fall back, hanging from his hips and his enormous dick, so they could all see the penetration. An area of flesh glistened, more of her juices smeared from her stretched hole as he pounded her faster. Lore could almost hear the sloppy sucking but decided he must be imagining it through the noise of the audience. Why would he do that?

Using his immense Glodarian strength, Glad turned Callie carefully over, sliding around his member. She cried out to the saints of all things sexual, her voice high, full of pleasure. When he placed her feet down, he began to move faster, harder, pushing her to her hands and knees over a dozen thrusts. He grabbed her hair and her breasts, and her cries became louder. Her agreements more insistent.

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