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Conning the Arena

Chapter 3

Sponsored by GlynWolf

by Draconicon

No point in waiting, no matter how much he didn't like the looks of this. Olag leaped from his perch at the count of two and hit the first platform, bending his knees as it sagged forward and leaping again as soon as it was at a diagonal. He intentionally missed the landing, hitting the edge of the weighted platform and hanging from it. The ratcheting and clanking sound of whatever projectiles were loaded in the first weapon filled the air, the click-clack-clang going off for nearly a minute before finally coming to a halt.

Of course, hanging from the platform meant that his legs were dangling near the black ooze, and the polar bear could hear it squelching as it dragged itself up the pillars supporting the platform. One brushed against his toes and tried to suck them in, though thankfully unsuccessfully. He pulled his legs up, bending them and waiting -

The clicking stopped. Olag heaved himself up, landing with a thump on the platform top. The guns were pulled back, clicking in the walls as they reloaded.

Not a lot of time to deal with this...

The bear looked ahead. There were a dozen more platforms to get through, most of which were overseen by different weapons on mechanical arms, and each one getting progressively smaller than the one before. They were just close enough that one might be able to jump between them, but one bad leap, or one moment of bad luck, and the jumper would fall right into the ooze. Considering how aggressive it was being to someone just hanging over the side, he doubted that it would be nice at all to anyone that happened to fall into it completely.

And that was not counting all the traps on the platforms themselves. He could see tripwires, he could make out cuffs that would rise from the platforms themselves, he could -

Click.

"Fucking hell."

Shaking his head, Olag charged forward, leaving the platform just before the bullets started spraying again. He rolled forward, tucking himself into a somersault roll as soon as he hit the next one. Another spray of bullets, a net that nearly fell on top of it, and then he was rolling off the edge.

He spun, caught himself by the skin of his teeth. Ratta-tatta-tatta. The bullets kept spraying over his head, covering the platform.

That was close...too close...

And the platform was definitely smaller. If it had been even a few inches shorter, he would have rolled too far to course-correct. Couldn't do that again. He'd fall right into the ooze.

But how the fuck was he going to manage -

That was it. He grinned, reaching for one of the pillars that held the platform up. It wasn't that wide, no more than eight inches across, but that would be more than enough.

"Heh...heh...well, you already know how strong I am...guess I can't surprise you with this..."

As the black ooze continued to climb up along the sides of the platform pillars, gradually creeping towards his dangling legs, Olag got a grip on the pillar. The bear's claws dug into the metal as he forced himself to take it slow, take it careful. One good wrench, that was all he needed. One good pull. The bullets had already ripped it apart at the top, breaking away the part that anchored the top of the metal pillar to the platform. If he could just -

CREAAAAAK!

There. One good pull, and the pillar came free. Olag hooked it with a knee, then did the same to the pillar on his other side. The platform sagged, then fell, and he grabbed the two pillars and pulled. The sucking sound of them coming free of the ooze was just a little disgusting, but it worked.

"Heh...bear on stilts...the circus would be fucking proud..."

It wasn't ideal. The ooze was climbing the metal poles even as he dragged them along, but it was better than nothing.

He dragged them along, kicking and lifting them by turns, pushing through the black ooze and moving around the platforms rather than taking the direct route over them. He had no doubt that there was some asshole on the other side of the cameras that was pissed off beyond all reason and was trying to change course #33 from its original orientation to something quite a bit nastier, just because he was 'cheating,' but he didn't care about that. He had to cover as much ground as possible before they started fucking with him again.

He managed to get more than halfway down the course before the ceiling opened. Multiple panels slid away and black ooze started to rain down, more of the slime that already came nearly up to his ankles. He saw it coming down and watched the black layer under him rising up.

"Fuckers..."

" You will continue the rest of Course #33 in the way that it was meant to be continued. Dismount at the next platform or be sucked beneath the ooze."

"The one time that I get creative with it."

Shaking his head, Olag quick-marched his stilts to the nearest platform, just past the midpoint. He had to climb up one of them as the ooze kept climbing higher, and one tendril of it nearly managed to snag his ankle before he reached it. The gun was mercifully quiet as he pulled himself up and onto the platform, shaking his head as he yanked one of his stilts up after him. The ooze bubbled in annoyance at him.

Olag turned back to the course ahead. Four more platforms, the largest of which was maybe three feet on a side, and the last of which was barely one before the exit door. He cocked his head to the side, looked at the ceiling and the guns mounted all around, and tapped the metal pole on his shoulder. The long pylon of steel dinged like a dull bell.

"You guys are fucking assholes, you know that?" Olag asked.

" You will continue. Or you will be fired upon."

"Yeah?"

The bear smirked, hefting the pole over his shoulder. It was a good fifteen feet long, and too unwieldy for the average strong-man to use. He, on the other hand -

WHAM!

The gun pointed down on his platform broke free as he swung it around, the bullets spraying into the ooze before the crackling, sparking thing was completely covered up. He tapped the pole against his shoulder.

"I'd like to see you try."

There was no answer to that. He could just imagine that damn peacock trying to track down where he'd come from. After all, this was nothing like the strength and power that he'd shown in the surface arenas. He wasn't supposed to show this much, either; it went against all the efforts that he and the boss had put out there to make sure that he didn't expose what he was.

However, there was nothing in the rules that he and the boss had set up that kept him from preventing abject humiliation and use. And he had no doubt that the ooze below would be a lot of that.

Poking the gun further down the course with the pole until it faced a different direction, Olag brought the pylon down between him and the next platform, humming to himself as he walked across the top of it, tight-rope walking the distance between him and the next, narrow square. As soon as he touched it, the guns started firing, but they were firing ahead of him, so there was no problem with that.

One by one, he repeated the same strategy. Was it slow? Sure. Was it a complete abuse of what he had that others didn't? Hell yeah, it was.

Did he care? Not in the fucking slightest.

He reached the far side of the obstacle course, then tossed the pylon through the closed wall panel. It shattered inwards, and he climbed across the pylon, using his own bulk to push the metal further open. As soon as he was through, he was surrounded on all sides by more guards. Their rifles were leveled at him, and more than a few of them trembled in much the same way that Kevin had when the kid had come to collect him from his 'quarters.'

Olag turned in place, the polar bear fixing every helmet with the same smirk. He looked back the way he'd come, at all the damage that he had left in his wake, and then gestured through the hole in his wall with a thumb.

"Someone might wanna fix that. Ya know. In case ya wanna send someone else down that deathtrap again."

"That was...impressive."

Dr. Malfust, then. The bear turned on his heel, looking down at the over-preened peacock walking through the ranks of guards. The scientist looked him up and down.

"Your musculature does not suggest that you should have the raw strength to rip things apart to that extent, and yet you have. You were not scanned to show any implants or other augmentations that might have been put in you by someone else, and yet, you are operating at a level beyond any 'natural' fighter that we have. I am...curious...as to just what you are, Olag."

"Be as curious as ya like. I'm not stopping ya there."

"Clearly. You are only adding to my...fascination."

The peacock's eyes glinted behind his glasses. Olag knew that he was playing with fire with this one; the more that he stood out as someone abnormal, the more that the scientists in the dark arena were going to push him. They already knew that he could stand up to pressure that would have brought anyone else to their knees. They already knew that he had strength beyond what he was supposed to, and could stand up to pain better than he should have been able to.

But that didn't mean that they knew everything. They didn't know the source of it, and considering what the boss had told him, magic would be just about the last fucking thing on their minds.

Dr. Malfust nodded.

"Take him to the barracks. He can meet the other fighters now."

"Yes, sir," one of the armored guards said. "Come."

"Gonna say please?"

Click.

The weapons all cocked at once, pointing at him from both sides. Olag chuckled, shaking his head.

"Ya know, I think ya need a vocabulary lesson. Ain't that hard to talk, boys."

One tried to swing the butt of his rifle into the bear's chin. Tried. He got halfway there before Olag caught it on the way, holding it with ease. The guard's arm shook as he tried to force it closer, then tried to pull it away, but Olag didn't let go.

"Talk with words, kid. I understand that a lot better...and they actually get through."

He let go, and the guard pulled back several paces. The new tremor down the gun barrel only made it all the more clear that the message had been received. Olag cracked his neck from side to side, and then shrugged.

"Anyway...the barracks?"

It ended up being more of a rec-room with goo-beds, and Olag quite frankly would have preferred to keep his private quarters. The idea of someone here seeing him getting sucked down into the goo just felt like putting himself in a very vulnerable place, and the possibility of someone getting up before him and blocking the air holes sent a shiver down his spine.

That said, they all seemed to be in the same boat. One person started fucking with the others? There'd be no mercy for them, no mercy for anyone.

Olag looked around as the guards shut the sliding door behind him. The hydraulics were probably meant to keep everyone in the same space, but he imagined that he could probably push them open again if he tried. Hell, some of the males and females here probably could manage that.

He glanced around the room. Orcas, bulls, mostly big species. He saw a fox here, a mouse there, but even they were bulked and jacked up. Nudity was the norm, and the most that he saw in terms of clothing were collars on some of the fighters, and even that seemed to be made of the same multi-purpose black ooze that the assholes in charge seemed to be so enamored of.

None of the fighters had looked up at him so far. Some of them were exercising with barbells that were loaded to a minimum of 750 pounds, while others were running in place. Some had a checkerboard out between them, moving their pieces back and forth in rapid succession, while still others were laying back against the wall, eyes closed, their hands folded in some sort of meditation.

And some of 'em were jerking off or fingering themselves. Yeah, that seemed about right; even in this prison-esque place, there were some needs that never entirely disappeared.

Olag stepped forward -

Crack.

Only to stop as a pink flash caught him right in the chin. For the first time, he felt a dull ache from the blow, and he paused, reaching up to rub his chin as the slight ache went up to his gums, rippling through his front teeth for a moment before he put it out of his head. He massaged his lips and jaw, looking to his left.

A brown-furred mouse female looked up at him. He glanced down, saw her standing on her tiptoes, and chuckled.

"That your way of saying hello?" he asked.

"You're still standing, aren't you?"

"Ain't for a lack of trying on your part."

"Don't I know it. Shelly."

"Olag," he said, nodding. "So, that just to say hello, or trying to knock a weaker guy out of the competition early?" he asked, his eyes scanning around the room.

So far, nobody else had bothered to glance his way. Probably waiting to see if he'd rip the mouse limb from limb or something. They were probably going to be disappointed if they were waiting for something like that. He didn't have any interests in that direction.

"I figured that you'd be new. Not that augmented yet. Guess I was wrong."

"Nah, you're right."

"Bullshit."

"Ain't augmented at all," Olag said, shrugging as he looked back down at her. Four-foot-six, he'd guess her height at, with a few more inches if you included those rather large ears. Small in height, little thicker - okay, a lot thicker - in the hips and thigh, with almost nothing in the chest. Overall, kinda hot, and his cock started to grow a bit. "Heh, that's all natural, too."

"I've heard that before. Pump that inflated thing somewhere else."

"Suit yourself, lady. Just saying."

"Again, bullshit," she said, though with enough of a smile to show that she'd at least gotten a small bit of amusement from the whole thing.

Olag smiled back. At least there was someone here that had a sense of humor. That would make it a little more bearable between matches if the other guys could laugh a bit.

"So, any advice for the new guy?" he asked.

"Heh, what makes you think that I want to help you?"

"Well, you're talking to me. Guess ya could be bored. And hey, I'll do ya a favor if ya point out anything worth knowing."

"Throw your first match?"

"Besides throwing matches."

"I'm not trading info for sex."

"Alright. How 'bout info for a beatdown for someone here?"

"You couldn't take anyone here."

"I took that kick."

Shelly tapped her chin, looking around the room. Olag followed her gaze, mentally sizing himself up against the various competitors that she stared at. There was a dolphin female off to one side that looked sleek and fast, a bull that was pressing just over a thousand pounds on a bench, a giraffe that looked like he was trying to kick a hole through a wall -

"Alright. You take a quick match with him, and I'll give you the lowdown," Shelly said, pointing at a blue-scaled dragon at the far end of the room. "He tried to get an ass-fuck out of me last week. Didn't work, but I'm still pissed."

"Heh, you got it..."

Olag stepped out of the ring of fighters two minutes later with a half-bruised eye and a bit of blood on his knuckles. The dragon was down with one eye sealed shut, wheezing, panting as he coughed on the ground. The other fighters gave Olag some room, while some of them eyed him with an entirely different feeling behind their stares. He'd made a point, and they were going to remember it.

Shelly waited for him by one of the goo-beds, shaking her head with a growing smirk on her face.

"Well...can't say I expected anything like that. Still think you're lying about being all-natural, though."

"Believe whatever the hell ya want. I did my bit."

"Sure fucking did. They're gonna need to take him to the infirmary later."

"By the way. You telling the truth about him trying to ass-fuck ya?"

"Yep. Fucker didn't know what he was getting in for; ended up in the infirmary myself holding him off."

"Wonder if it's too late to give him another punch in the face."

"Probably is. Anyway, what do you want to know?"

"Well, big one is how long until we have to fight."

"Heh...whenever the big guys want a show. So, I'd guess another couple of hours. Been about two days since the last real fight in the ring."

"No schedule?"

"Whatever schedule they got, they don't share with us. They bring us out, sometimes all of us, sometimes just a few of us. Depends on how big an audience they got, and how many people are paying."

Worth knowing. That meant that he needed to make sure that he did well enough to stay in a bracket of fighters that were regularly exposed regardless of the audience size. That might mean the mid-tier, or it might mean upper. It depended on how things went.

Olag cracked his knuckles, shaking off the bit of blood that still clung to them. The mouse cocked her head to the side.

"You always put yourself out helping the ladies?" she asked.

"Nah. Just figured it'd work."

"And why's that? Not like I look like a damsel in distress."

"Eh, worst comes to worst, I offered. And I get to hit someone."

"That's all that matters to you, huh?"

"Not really, but it's a good way to get the frustration out. And besides, I needed to work out some kinda tension after they shoved me through #33."

As casually as he said it, Olag was still watching for a reaction, and he got it. Shelly had a spit-take, and several fighters that were moving from the impromptu circle around that dragon to their previous activities stumbled at his words. Looked like Kevin was right; the bat had said that it was a dangerous course that chewed people up, and he wasn't lying. The fighters that reacted stared for a moment before quickly moving on, acting as if they had never done any such thing.

Shelly, on the other hand, just shook her head and lowered her voice.

"You're lying."

"Ain't."

"You have to be. Last guy that went through it came out like hamburger."

"Last guy wasn't me."

"Bullshit."

"It's a giant stretch of hallway with guns on the wall, trigger traps on the platforms, and ooze that wants to trap you on the ground."

"...Okay, you saw it. How'd you survive it?"

"Just stole one of the poles."

"What poles?"

"Heh. Let's just say that the whole thing's probably gonna be out of commission for a while. And probably gonna be deadlier next time."

Saying that out loud took some of the fun out of the whole thing, knowing that his achievement would probably end up with the whole thing being made that much deadlier than before, but hey. At least he'd made it the first time. That was something. Hell, that was a lot of something.

Shelly looked at him with the same sort of consideration that he'd seen on crime bosses. He'd worked under enough of them while working with his own boss; they always had that same expression, that same head-tilt, that same 'I could use this' stare that meant that they were weighing what they knew against the risk of pissing him off.

Muscle was muscle. Olag was more than used to that sort of look, and expected it these days. Anyone that had a brain always thought that they could push someone with more muscle into doing things the way that they wanted, manipulating them as if they were stupid. Easy enough stereotype, and often enough true. Didn't mean that it was the case with him, but he didn't mind going along with it. A dumb 'boss' meant that he could get what he wanted, too.

"You plan on sticking around long, Olag?" she asked.

"Don't see that I got much of a choice."

"Always a choice. Could always commit suicide."

"Heh, I like living too much."

"Well...tell you what. You do me some more favors, and I'll help you figure out how to survive some of the harder matches. That dragon's not the strongest one here."

Olag had already figured that out. There were a few little cliques bunching up now that the fight was over. Sure, they made it look all casual, but he knew the signs. Some little trios and quads that were slightly separate from the others, some of the guys that had heard his declaration about #33 going to their bosses: it was all there. There were other 'bosses' in the room, but none for Shelly.

He imagined that the girls had it rougher down here. Grab a spot, hold it tight, and hope that none of the other gangs moved en masse to take it from you. Only thing that you could do to keep guys under you was give 'em something to fear or something to enjoy, and considering Shelly's approach to getting something from him, he doubted that any of the females down here were willing to put out an offer of that. The other females, likely enough, were in a similar situation, which kept 'em from packing together and making a little army of themselves against the guys. Too many ways to lose what status you got when you had to share it just to stay afloat.

This would be Shelly's way to get a gang, he imagined. Get someone that needed info and guidance, like him, and use him as muscle to keep the other gangs from muscling in and keep the other guys in line.

He could work with that.

"Heh, I can go with that."

"Good. We'll start tomorrow. Probably won't be a match by then; you took out one of the mid-tier guys already."

"The top tier any harder?"

"Lots. They don't stay here with us."

That made sense. They were probably dealing with other equipment, other bits and pieces that allowed them to be deadlier. Olag wondered if he'd get moved up there later.

For now, however, he settled in. He leaned his back against the wall, crossing his legs and resting his hands behind his head. Shelly looked down, then up.

"Seriously. All-natural?"

"Yep."

"...How?"

"Heh. You interested?"

"Not a chance in hell."

"As ya said, bullshit."

For the first time, she blushed, and it was her turn to get up and walk away. He didn't miss the slight glistening along her thighs as she left, and he chuckled, closing his eyes. It had been a long day, and he didn't mind getting a chance to relax. The fact that he had flustered someone that so clearly thought that they had the upper hand made it that much better, he had to admit.

As he closed his eyes, he imagined what it was going to be like fighting for real. It had been too long since he'd had the chance to let loose, to focus more on the fight than on holding back. Oh, he knew that he'd still need to hold back a bit, just for a while, just to make the fights more engaging for the audience and to keep Dr. Malfust from getting too close to the truth, but he'd still be able to enjoy himself.

And then there were the prizes. He was damn sure that the better fighters got rewarded with some good shit, whether that was an augmentation to make them better at fighting - something that he'd need to show that he didn't need at some point - or some pleasurable company. That had always been a fun part of the fighting ring up top, when he had been fighting there. He was sure that would continue to some extent down here.

His cock twitched, rising off one thigh as he imagined it again, thinking of how it would feel to pin some unlucky little shit under him. Would it be out in the ring, perhaps? Someone that had fought him and come up short, someone that scrambled to get away as he got a grip on their tail and pulled them back?

The polar bear felt his cock getting stiffer and harder between his legs the more that he thought about it, and he grinned as he let his fantasy run away with him. That orca, he thought. Big guy, big muscles, but a nice hard ass, too. Someone that would be a pleasure to bend over and really break in. He could already imagine those black and white cheeks rippling as he rammed in, as he forced his cock past that pucker and really got that fucker to realize what it felt like to be a bitch. Olag curled his toes as he groaned, his cock starting to ooze pre-cum down along the underside, the unnatural chill that came so often making him shiver a bit.

He was just about to grope himself when he was snapped back to reality by a quick stomp on his cock. Not hard enough to hurt, but definitely enough to ram it down against the floor and pin it there. Olag hissed, but no more than that, opening one eye and looking up.

It was the rat and the giraffe, both of them looking down at him. The rat was the more muscled-up of the two of them, almost box-shaped from shoulders to hips with how thickened up he was, and he had a sharp, severe look on his face, almost like someone had taken a chisel and clipped out anything that could have softened him up. The giraffe, on the other hand, loomed so tall that he almost lost definition to his muscles, so swooping and vertical that it made it harder to notice the bulges that ran across his arms and abs.

Both of them stood with their balls almost on-level with the bear's nose, and he could smell the sweat of a long workout already coming off them. He cocked his head to the side.

"Ya wanna tell me what you want? Or am I gonna have to beat your asses for stomping on my dick?"

"Maybe you could, maybe you couldn't. There's two of us, and one of you," the giraffe said.

"And we ain't cocky like Dillinger was," the rat added.

"Cocky or not, you're standing on my dick. Now, step off, or I'll make ya."

The two fighters smirked at each other, but the rat finally stepped back, taking his foot off the bear's shaft. Olag sat up a little straighter as his dick leaped up, undeterred by the mild discomfort. Shaking his head, he pulled his arms back from behind his head, crossing them over his chest.

"So, what the fuck do the two of ya want?" the polar bear asked.

"...It true that you got through #33?" the giraffe asked.

"Yep."

"It true that you ain't augmented?" the rat asked.

"Might be."

"Is it or ain't it?" the rat growled.

"I don't see how it matters to ya. Unless you're looking for something that ya need someone without augments to do."

That got the rat to snarl, held back by the giraffe. Olag smirked.

"Heh, that's it, ain't it?"

"Are you, or aren't you?" the giraffe asked. "Don't make us waste time."

"Let's say that they ain't put anything in me yet."

"That's good enough for me. You...you're not just here to fight, are you?"

"I think that ain't something to talk about in here," Olag said, glancing around the room pointedly. "Ain't like they're giving us privacy. Ever."

And he wasn't going to spill the beans about his real job, not for something that was either the clumsiest fishing expedition from an enemy ever, or the worst possible way of finding allies that he had ever seen. Someone just walking up while there were almost certainly cameras all over the place? That was just begging for trouble, begging for the authorities to come clamping down hard.

He had a job to do. Just because they might be useful didn't mean that he was gonna risk himself that early.

The giraffe seemed to understand. He thought for a moment as he held the growling rat back.

"Tomorrow, post-fight, showers."

"Ya live through it, I'll be there."

"You too."

They stepped back, or rather, the giraffe led the rat away. Olag leaned to the side, watching the swaying rump walking off, and he imagined those brown-furred glutes wrapped around his cock. It was a pretty fun thing to imagine, particularly after having the rat stomp on him.

He'd be lucky if I decided to lube him up before I took him...

Nah, that was a bit of a lie to himself. He liked treating asses to a good tongue bath enough that the rat'd probably get something from him before they got to the rest of it.

Much as he wanted to linger on that fantasy, though, he knew that it was not a good idea to shut out the rest of the room. Some of the other gangs of fighters were already eyeing him up, and while he was pretty sure that he could take just about anyone in the room one on one, there might be a problem if they decided to rush him. Twenty other guys, all augmented to some degree or another, was more than most people would be able to fight. And he didn't want to risk going all out, not just yet.

Shaking his head, Olag got to his feet and wandered around the room, looking at the various goo-beds until he found one that looked new. He sat by it, more or less laying his claim. Nobody bothered him.

The doors to the barracks opened, and several guards stepped inside. They walked over to the blue-scaled dragon, who'd since managed to sit up. They examined him, checked his eyes, then pulled him along. Probably taking him to get treated, Olag imagined.

It wouldn't be the first person he sent there, he was sure.

The End

Summary: Olag gets through the obstacle course and meets some of the other fighters.

Tags: M/solo, M/M, Arena, Barracks, Goo, Ooze, Nudity, Fighters, Sci-Fi, Ow, Series, Foot On Cock, Sweat, Blood,