Alright. So this one is out of the blue. I got messed up over the weekend at a friend's house, logged on to my computer, and realized I had written about 8 pages of this. It was rough and repetitive, still kinda is, but the concept was there. It was funny and a little dark as well as absolutely ridiculous. So, Disclaimers. Got some nonconsent, dick on chick, nonconsent themes, nonsensical world setting, stupid announcers and proportions in all aspects that are... not even. Take all of this with a few grains of salt.
This was also the most fun I had writing a side story. I think...this started as practice for sex scenes? If so it spiraled out of control. Regardless, I would love feedback as to flow, clarity visuals, and any repetitiveness that I couldn't remove. This ones gonna get pretty interesting in later chapters I think.
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Miranda Poundsworth had fucked up. She knew it and they knew it. Her suit had run out of juice, which meant she was just a chick versus several ogres. It had started out so well, too. She had gotten the call form home, kissed her girlfriend goodbye, the kiss turned into them fingering each other, and she got to roll call twenty minutes late.
She belonged to the Anti Sex Slave Ring Platoon. A highly trained band of ex PMC and military ladies that used their powered plugsuits to take out any and all underground sex rings. They all operated solo and had no contract that required you to show up, so it seemed like a great job choice after Miranda got out of the military at twenty. Dishonorably discharged. Molested her female CO is what the report says. Two consenting adults and one liar is what she says. Command knew which is why she was free and even got a recommendation for this squad. In the two years in ASSRP, she had a long list of achievements from corrupt politicians detained to Mafia slave trades shut down.
Anyway, at roll call (or pick your bounty time) Miranda managed to snag a nice 200,000 cred job. A simple smash and grab for some intel. Guarded by ogres, massive demihumans in two regards, and unable to be blown up. Seemed easy.
Nothing seemed wrong her suit room as she checked all her suit sensors. Putting on the skintight latex undersuit was a hassle as always. Her hips were too wide, her ass filled it to the brink, and she had to really tuck her E cups into it. Then she had to undo it to finger herself until her clit stopped showing through the suit and put it back on.
She gently rubbed the suit just a few inches below the belly button. Right there was a little tattoo that she had gotten in college. She never could remember why or where, but she knows that ever since she had this her libido and endurance were ridiculously high. Even her lovers had asked over the years what it was after the two hours it took to be satisfied. She never had an answer for them. Focusing on the task at hand, Pilot Poundsworth checked her suit charge and weapons then set off.
The crash part of it worked fine. She willed it, and her suit constructed a grenade launcher as she stood atop the apartments opposite the warehouse. Jumping almost a hundred meters out, she unloaded the six round drum on her way down, two of which were tear gas. She never wore a helmet because it messed up her textured dark red hair and because it matched the crimson plugsuit. To make for that, a clear, light constructed face mask filtered the air as she searched for targets.
Tear gas may be devastating to humans, but ogres are tougher in many ways including lung strength. A small cough was the only warning Miranda had before the massive fist collided with her kidney, sending her through one of the shipping containers. The suit made it so the damage was almost non-existant, but it still smarted. This is where things went south. See the container was full of illegal suit batteries and siphon tanks. She must have turned one on, because her suit battery started plummetting. Before she could react, the ogres pal caught her with an uppercut to the gut, which would have been fatal, but the suits power was too low to reduce it entirely. She crumpled on the ten foot tall idiot's fist.
When Miranda awoke, she knew she had gone down shit creek and was sinking fast. Her suit was now completely dry which made it incredibly hard to move in, which made any hope of getting out of the binds impossible. The cold touch of steel on her neck told her what kind of table she was spread eagle on and the sterile whiteness of the room told her what her captors meant to do. She started to struggle immediately, but no matter how hard she threw her weight nothing budged.
A whirring noise of a machine starting up rose up followed by the table smoothly moving. Soon , various scanners and testers passed overhead. Gauging from the array they had, this was a full physical checkup. Given how many of those machines were focussing on her assets, she tried struggling again. Finally the machine noises stopped. A sharp prick in the back of her neck was the last thing Miranda felt before fading back to unconsiousness.
'Oh my fucking head! I feel like I tried to headbutt a jackhammer. And why does my throat taste like olive oil?' Her eyelids slowly cracked open in the blinding light. A monitor buzzed to alert that Miranda was consious and some heels started clacking across the tiles towards her. A blonde haired women came into view in a lab coat. Miranda could have sworn she had seen her before.
"Hello Ms. Poundsworth. I imagine you can almost recall who I am." The arrogant british accent immediately brought a name to mind. Her first arrestee.
"Olivia Honeyslit. Surprised you still have a job after the fumble you made. Cost your gang a lot of creds." The pilot smirked at her former target.
"Oh the case you stole was quite important. I got put into the Addon Arena after that, you know." A mock hurt look played across her face.
"So the rumors were true. There is a place like that. I hope it sucked, bitch." She spat out the words, but raised an eyebrow at the smile that grew on Olivia's face.
"Oh it did. I had to work quite hard o get out of it, but not before I lost a few times. You see, when you fail in the arena, the victor is allowed to select a modification for the loser. It can add up rather quickly to be a signifigant disadvantage. It's hard to explain so," the smile turned sinister as she spoke, "I SIGNED YOU UP!"
The laughter she held in echoed maniacly in the large medical room. Miranda seemed dazed by the news herself. She had heard of the rumors for the place. Even hardened criminals were broken by the arenas, and the Addon Arena was supposed to be on another level.
"What do you mean you signed me up?" She spoke in a quiet voice, almost drowned out by the laughter. Olivia finally curbed her laughter and wiped a tear from her eye.
"I mean you are set for the meat grinder and you will not be coming back. Not did I sign you up, but I even got them to change the rules just for you. You have made quite a name for yourself since I went away and quite the list of enemies. Normally they keep these really hush hush to keep from being caught, but they told every boss you messed with, every criminal and professional you ruined, and every dirty comrade you turned in that you will be in there."
Miranda lay there with a blank stare as the immensity of the trouble she was in dawned on her. Shaking her head, she put her game face back on.
