Valeriya The Half Breed Ch 03

Chapter 3 -- The Mountain.

She introduced herself as Syuri, the medical assistant assigned by the Planetary Athletic Directorate to monitor the health of the participants in this event. I introduced myself to her in Japanese and she smiled as she heard my words in her native language. She too had been abducted from Japan by the slavers almost ten Earth years ago. I had many questions for her about why she had been here ten years when her contract should have been for three. She told me to hold my questions for another day, as I needed to conserve my strength and protect my voice since my throat had suffered major damage. I did not care how much it hurt, she was from Earth and I finally had someone to talk to from my home planet.

She told me that she had done a complete scan of me while I was unconscious and that she recommended that my next match be postponed until the following day to give my internal injuries time to heal. While she continued working on me I had a good chance to look her over while she was up close. She definitely was Japanese but her body had undergone some major modifications. Her breasts were man made but they were perfectly formed and looked and moved like the real deal. Her hips, tummy, and butt had been reworked as well. Who ever had done the work on her did one hell of a job. How did I know she had work done? I had spent enough time in Japan to know that there was no woman as perfect in those areas as Syuri was. The only conclusion was that a highly skilled surgeon had remade her.

She had administered several vials of healing nanites along with several agents to accelerate my healing but informed me that due to the extent of my internal injuries that it could take several weeks for my injuries to heal properly if I did not suffer additional damage during the next phase of my punishment. The slavery commission was against any delay and insisted that my punishment continue, but since the Athletic Directorate was involved her recommendations were considered and approved. This forced the slavers to stay my second beat down until the next day. Syuri warned me that they had picked a new opponent for me after what I had done to the Stooges. She was worried that I would not survive the encounter. I figured much already since I had pissed the slavers and the fighters off in a major way.

While she was tending to my wounds and internal injuries she asked me why I chose to kill two of the three men that I was matched against. She explained that to her personally and to her professionally that one person should not kill another if it can be avoided.

I explained that it was three against one and that when I knocked one down the other two would attack me, and that this kept going on during the battle and I was coming out on the losing end. I also mentioned that I was not the one that started using weapons, nor was I the one that brought the knife into the fight. Once the knife was introduced and the leader of the three ordered the other two to kill me, that told me that it was either them or me and I was doing my best to make sure that it was not me that was killed. She understood my reasons and did not realize that they intended to take my life. She ended the conversation by telling me that I fought well and with honor given my size and the number of opponents I was forced to fight.

I thanked her for her kind words and then she informed me that she was going to put me out for about the next twenty hours to give my body time to repair its self and let the nanites do their work. Putting me to sleep would also help me to conserve my existing energy and to build up my reserves while I slept. I thanked her for her assistance and promised that I would try not to kill my opponent the next day. The last thing I heard before she put me out was, "I fear that it will be him that will be killing you, please make sure that does not happen as I would like to get to know you better."

When I opened my eyes it was close to my second round of punishment. There was a package waiting for me from Mistress with a new outfit to wear. The one that I had worn for the first round had been removed so that I had no choice but to wear the new one. The first outfit was leather pants with a leather halter top, this one was a high cut long sleeved body suit with butt floss that split the crack of my ass and barely covered my neatly trimmed golden triangle in the front. The only thing in common with my last outfit where the knee-high leather boots with the 4-inch heels. Again I was being handicapped by my wardrobe, but this time the low cut neckline and the high cut hips had my ass and most of my chest on display.

I sat up and stripped off the paper hospital style gown that I was dressed in and started to don the items that Mistress had left behind for me. While I was dressing Syuri entered the room to give me one final scan before she cleared me to march off to my second punishment session. The results of her scan were positive but the pain was still there from the beating that I had taken and the rough sex I was forced to endure. The pain was less severe but it was still quite intense. Had I not been trained to block out pain I would have been unable to function as every movement hurt. I suppose I should rephrase that, I was taught to block out pain but that did not mean that I could block it all. I was using every Shinobi technique that I was taught just to be able to sit up without screaming.

Syuri could tell that I was in pain by the way I grimaced as I tried to reach behind me to zip up the soft leather body suit that I was being forced to wear. She complimented me on how sexy I looked once I was all zipped up and standing in front of her in my high heeled boots. She smiled at me and commented that she wished that she had a girlfriend as sexy as me. I was flattered that the beautiful nurse thought that I was sexy but unfortunately I was only slightly bi sexual and that was only due to a bottle of wine that my friends and I had consumed during a sleepover while we were in high school. I have to admit that it was a pleasurable and exciting weekend but it still did not persuade me to give up the hard throbbing man meat for the delicate pointed tongue of a girl.

After I was zipped up Syuri gave me a series of three injections without warning me. She said that the injections were two different types of experimental organic pain relieving nanites. The third injection was the activating serum that would bring the microbe like organic robots to life and send then coursing through my arteries and veins to help alleviate the pain that I was in. Syuri warned me that they would only be active for a short while and estimated that after an hour they would be consumed by my body's natural defense mechanisms. She assured me that if anyone attempted to check to see if I was tampered with medically or was using some sort of drug they would find nothing incriminating.

When it was time for the show to start some low life little gofer opened the door without knocking and let us know that I had five minutes before show time. I was not sure why but before I went out to meet my fate, or whatever creature the powers that be found for me to get beat up by Syuri hugged me tightly, wished me luck and let me know that I was the strongest and most determined women she had ever seen. She hoped that I would survive so she could get to know me better. I took that as a compliment but joked with her and asked, "Do you have a ray gun, plasma grenade, sword or a club that I can borrow? I promise I'll return it if I survive.

She laughed at my request as she walked me to the door that led to the warehouse combat area. She added that the slavers did not want to kill me as I still had value to my Mistress. They did however want to make an example of me and since I involved myself in their fight games they would use that as their mechanism to destroy me. One thing that really pissed them off was that the audience gave me higher ratings than their champion and for that I had to be destroyed in public. Syuri warned me about my opponent, his nickname was "The Mountain" and he was an Androzian professional wrestler.

That meant nothing to me since I was unfamiliar with the Androzian species. Syuri filled in the details about the Androzian and this one in particular. He was slightly over 7 ft tall and weighed over 400 pounds. He had abandoned wrestling in favor of pit fighting and normally participated in last man standing style matches. Since he was still alive that told me that he was proficient at these sorts of matches. When he was not wrestling, or pit fighting he was breaking legs for the mob as a "collection specialist" for the local bookies. I knew that I was in for one hell of a battle with this one.

I knew that it would be a hopeless battle when I got a look at the giant brute that I was forced to face. He was wearing a tactical suite that looked like something out of a police SWAT movie, while I had on a leather bodysuit with my ass hanging out and leather butt floss between my crack. He was wearing what looked to be steel toed combat boots while I was smartly dressed in leather knee high boots with a 4 inch spiked heel. The more I looked over my opponent the better I understood how General Custer felt at the Little Big Horn. For those outside the United States that don't understand the reference, substitute Napoleon at Waterloo if that helps.

The slave commissioners had their little formalities to go through before the battle started and as they were prattling on over the PA system for the TV audience I had enough of waiting. I was going to be just as dead if I waited five more minutes for them to shut the hell up so while The Mountain was distracted and looking up at the speaker where the voice was coming from I stepped forward and rammed my right fist into his gut. I did not flinch but I my hand hurt like hell. He looked fat but his abs were rock hard a fact that was hidden by his outfit.

I finally got a reaction from him when I slammed my left fist into his gut. He just looked down and laughed at me. The PA announcer was chastising me to wait for the signal to start, I gave him a one-fingered signal with my right hand and yelled back, "We who are about to die salute you!" Yes, it was an obvious rip off of a famous Roman quotation but I doubt that any of these bastards knew a damn thing about ancient Rome.

I expected him to fire back with a punch of his own but he was enjoying my antics so he just looked down at me and smiled while I hit him with everything I had. When I had no luck with his gut after eight or nine punches I raised my sites and targeted his chest with a series of punches and elbow strikes. I worked on his ribs with my elbows and hit him with several strikes that would have broken a human man's ribs. The smile on his face never changed as he stood there and allowed me to expend my energy pounding away on him.

I kept trying to hit him harder and harder and even when I put my full 124 pounds behind each punch he never moved, never flinched, never hit back. He just kept looking down at me and laughing. I was hitting him with jabs, and roundhouse combinations with no success. I switched to upper cuts as I tried to drive my fists up under his ribcage by striking his stomach and driving upwards. This had no effect. I tried backhanded chops, and knife hand thrusts but all I did was hurt my fingers.

My hands were becoming sore and felt as if my Sensei had forced me to break boards and bricks during a ten hour training session. Even though I was hurting inside from the beating I took the previous day, and outside from pounding my hands on his stomach and chest I still kept looking for a weak spot. I thought about going high and attacking the throat and face but given his great height that would have brought me in too close and put me at risk when he decided to start his attack.

I was becoming winded which was unusual for me but given what I had been through and the damage I sustained I was not surprised since the core of my body was aching before the confrontation started. Pounding on his torso was getting me nothing but sore tenderized hands, so I planted my left foot, pivoted and sent a back kick into his gut and then quickly recovered into my fighting stance to face him. He had not flinched and still he was laughing at me but this time he called me a foolish little girl.

Next I launched a front kick at him and tried to drive the pointed toe of my stylish and non-functional high-heeled boots into his chest. The first kick had no effect, and neither did the second as I did my best to try to drive my pointed boot up into his solar plexus area. Both kicks failed to achieve any positive result. After all the energy I had expended I did not hurt him, nor did I even make him a little bit mad at me. He just continued laughing at my feeble attempts to hurt him.

His laughter was pissing me off as I spun and tried another back kick with the same result as the first... nothing. As I recovered from my back kick he made his first move. His right hand palmed my face like an NBA player would palm a basketball. He pulled me toward him as he rammed his right knee up into my tummy. My mouth opened to form an "O" but no sound came out even though I was trying to grunt from the impact. I had been hit in the gut many times by fists, feet, nunchucks, clubs and such but nothing that I had ever been hit with hurt like this giant's knee did. I was afraid that I was soon going to feel what those ham sized fists could accomplish when he used them against me and for the first time since my pre-teen days when I was regularly bullied, I was afraid.

He released my head and I just stood there in front of him bent over clutching my stomach and trying to get my lungs to cooperate and suck in air. It was a difficult task to accomplish but eventually I was able to get a breath in. He stood over me laughing as I struggled to breath and since he was not pressing his attack I backed off a bit until I could straighten back up again. When I got up to face him he stepped toward me and I blasted him in the belly with a right uppercut that I threw all of my weight behind. I was rewarded with more laughter and a taunt of, "You must be the stupidest woman on your planet! You can't hurt me!" The sad thing about his taunt was that I was beginning to believe it to be true while at the same time I was doubting myself.

Insanity is defined as doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result, so in that respect he was right though I would not consider myself stupid. Yet I still kept trying to find a weak spot that was within my reach that I could exploit but was getting nowhere in my search. I even backed up, took a run at him and tried to spear him in the gut with my shoulder. All I got for my effort was a sore shoulder and more laughter from my giant foe.

I took a minute to rub away some of the pain in my shoulder before going back on the attack. I started moving down lower on his torso but not going for the crotch. He looked somewhat human but I was not sure if his genitalia would be in the same place as on a human, but even my lower shots at his abdomen had no effect. He just started making jokes about mosquitoes and gnats and suggested that someone call an exterminator. Of course he was making a reference to the ineffective nature of my strikes against him.

I decided to go high and aim for the face. I pivoted and spun, and when I came around to deliver my spinning heel kick he stepped into me and caught my leg and pulled it down against his side. Instead of hitting me he ran his hand up my leg, under my thigh and up against my thinly clad crotch. I took immediate offense to being groped and lashed out to slap his face but before my hand connected he threw me across the room with just a quick twist of his body. As I landed on my ass about eight feet away he raised his hand to his nose and sniffed his fingers. I knew he could not smell anything but it was a bit embarrassing to me that he was insinuating that he could.

He took his time and lumbered toward me and as he did I got into a three point stance just like a football player and launched myself at him figuring that maybe if I pick up enough speed and hit him just right I can topple him over. I tried the spear again with my right shoulder and as I buried my shoulder in his gut I tried to lift his right leg with both hands but could not manage to even get his foot off the floor. All I got for my effort was a sore shoulder and more laughter. What he got out of my attempt was a chance to get his hand around the back of my neck and pull me in. As he held me with one hand he brought his other hand down on the upper portion of my back. It felt as if someone had dropped a bowling ball off ladder and it landed on my back.

The clubbing blow should have put me down on the hard floor but he still had a hold on my neck and the way he was squeezing, I was not going anywhere. He switched hands before bending his left elbow and ramming it down on the same spot that his fist had just struck. The effect was the same, but the bony point striking the center of my back rattled my spine up and down its length.

My strikes were useless against him but his attacks on my back would ensure that they would be even less effective in the future. He followed his first elbow strike up with two more and when the third one hit a loud scream issued forth from my mouth, which was something that the Three Stooges the day before had failed to do no matter how hard they tried. The Mountain had succeeded in less than five minutes.

While I was bent over before him, The Mountain wrapped his arms around my tummy from behind and lifted me up and held me upside down with my back pressed against his chest and abdomen. Once he had me where he wanted me he began squeezing. I had been in many bear hugs before but never while I was inverted. Once again I was glad that my stomach was empty for obvious reasons.

To make matters worse The Mountain started bouncing me up and down, and shaking me from side to side as if I were a ragdoll. This increased the pressure on my spine and made it damn near impossible for me to breathe. Each time he would bounce or shake me he was compressing my gut even more. I tried to scream but with little air left in my lungs all that came out was a sickening wheeze. The more I wheezed, the louder he laughed at me.

Finally when he was done squeezing me and my resistance had stopped he hoisted me over his shoulder so that I was looking up at the ceiling. He held me in this position for a while and gave me a few painful bounces. I was now able to breathe but he was torturing my spine as it was bounced against his shoulder. With my legs draped over his back I was held so that my back was bent in a way that it was not meant to be bent.

I thought it could not get much more painful than this but I was wrong. He reached behind me with his right hand and slipped it between my legs. He pulled on my left leg until with was bent over his right shoulder. He adjust his grip with his left hand so that it was looped across my breasts. He started to pull with both arms and was bending me in half backwards as he used his head and neck as a fulcrum. Now that my lungs were full of air again I was able to scream and I kept screaming as the pressure on my spine was increased.

As he bent me in half he started to bounce and on the first big bounce I felt my spine realign shortly before the cascading wave of pain made it to my brain. I was beyond the capacity to scream, it was then that I was hoping for death as the pain was so intense and the only thing I could think of was being crippled by this hold he had me in. I never was one to cry but I could feel the tears leaking from my eyes as I did my best to hold them back.