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Conning the Arena

Chapter 12

Sponsored by GlynWolf

By Draconicon

As soon as the guards realized that he was done 'gloating,' they made their move. Olag looked at the armored thugs as they approached, and despite their helmets covering their faces, he could tell that they were terrified of him. It was a flattering feeling, knowing that even with his exhaustion, even with everything that he had gone through and how fucked-up his body was, they were still afraid of what he might do.

They shouldn't be. He wasn't the one that wanted to rip this place to the ground.

He stood up as they offered their hands, waving them off and stepping between them. They all but frog-marched him right to one of the goo-pits, pointing at it with their weapons. He glanced at it, then back at them.

"Ain't getting out of it, eh?"

"Bradford's orders."

"Heh, ya know, I thought that he was just a rich guy looking to get trophies. But if he can tell ya what to do, guess he's got a little more pull than I thought."

The two guards stiffened up, all but confirming the bear's guess. He chuckled, deciding not to push for more. Even if he got a little more info about what was going on in the arena, he didn't think that he could do anything else about it tonight. The spirit inside him had already drained most of his energy by forcing him to put it back to sleep, and he didn't want to spend any more than he had to just keeping it there.

He looked at the goo pit, shaking his head as he braced himself for what would come next. Every time, that thing pushed stuff into him, around him, and he knew tonight was going to be the worst. The bear gritted his teeth as he stepped forward.

The familiar feeling of the goo sliding between his toes, smooth and rubbery and squishy, hit him. It sucked down a little more than usual, and he let it happen, his hands at his side as he was pulled up to his knees almost instantly. A low growl that was immediately cut off escaped his mouth, and he just focused on breathing as the ooze crept up his legs. It was so smooth, so soft, so inviting, and he could only imagine what others had felt when they were dragged into this thing out of pure exhaustion.

Under his feet, it squeezed and massaged. He knew in the back of his head that it was meant to keep the blood flowing, to make sure that the upright-sleep wasn't something that would hurt someone over time. The way that the rubber and goo moved around kept him from being lightheaded, kept the 'standing' position from being a tiring experience, but that didn't mean that he liked it.

Deeper, deeper, deeper. Soon it was cupping his balls, rubbing under them. Tendrils teased his sac, pulling and stroking it, fondling his balls. He kept his hands unclenched at his side, but it took more focus than he wanted to admit to do that.

"Heh, getting hard, Meat?"

He turned to the guard, and the armored thug backed up a step. Olag shook his head.

"I let that boss of yours call me that. Ya try that again, and I'll throw ya through a wall."

Could he back up that threat? Probably not, but they didn't know that. They were quiet afterward, too, which he appreciated.

Up, up, up went the black, and soon it was wrapped around his cock, making him look like he had a deep black condom wrapped around his dick. He bit his lips as some tendrils worked around the head, teasing his piss slit and almost sliding in. In the past, he'd fought it as much as he could, but today...

"Nnngh..."

It slid in without him doing anything, and the bulging feeling inside of his cock got stronger and more intense. He huffed as it went deeper, deeper, going as far down as it could. It made his cock feel wider, thicker, and he wondered if he'd have a bit of a gape in that part of his cock by the time morning rolled around. Morning, or whatever time it was that they were allowed to get out of the goo pit, he supposed.

In the back, he could feel the goo doing the same around his asshole. Oh, that was something that he wasn't keen on, but the flicking goo felt like tongues back there. Tongues were good, but that wasn't going to be.

But again, he didn't have the energy to fight it. Not anymore.

It forced its way in as the goo pulled him in past his belly button, up to his chest, and he could feel it pulling on his arms, as well. His head was the only thing out of the goo in short order, and he was all but helpless.

Try it, he thought at the guards. Try something. I know you want to. I know you want to see what you can do to the big bad bear when he's all 'helpless.' Try it and find fucking out.

But either they had their orders, or they were still too afraid of him. Probably a mix of the two, Olag thought.

As the ooze inside him slithered deeper, both in his cock and in his ass, the black gunk finally pulled his head under. It was a quick drop after that, probably going a foot under the surface. A tube pushed past his lips, and he allowed it, sucking in the air as the world went dark, silent, and empty.

It was a punishment place as well as a pleasurable place, he knew. The little vibrations that came down both his cock and the tube in his ass were...distracting, meant to be pleasurable enough to keep someone edged during their sleep but not quite getting them off. He closed his eyes tighter against the black ooze around him, trying to give in to the quiet and the gentle comfort of the darkness...

But a certain someone didn't want the quiet.

Why did you stop me?

Olag groaned to himself. It had to be now that the spirit inside of him wanted to talk. He tried to put it out of his head, tried to push it down, but it had been a long day, and the spirit still had energy and to spare.

Why?

Because it wasn't fucking time yet. And you killed that asshole. Everything's gotta happen faster now.

He tried to kill us. He would have killed us if it wasn't for me.

And now he's dead, and we have to figure out a way out of this fucking place while that asshole - that dog - knows that we're something different.

We can kill him.

Not yet, we can't. We kill him, and there's no way out. They shut this whole thing down. Hell, they might blow the fucking place up so that they don't get outed. You wanna bet that this is the only one that they have?

The spirit didn't answer him, not that Olag expected one. The stupid thing inside of him wasn't dumb, not by a long shot, but it didn't understand the way that mortals worked. It was something else, something far more primal than most people were able to get.

Even he barely understood it, and that was after living with it for most of his life. It had been his constant companion since he was fucking twelve, and he still barely understood what it wanted.

Well, besides the obvious.

I want them dead.

We fucking agree on that, Olag thought. And when we ain't in the middle of getting our asses out of the fire, then we can do something about that. But if you're going to keep fucking up the plan, I'm going to keep you buried. You understand that? You get me fucked over here, I'm going to bury you so far down that even if I die, you ain't getting out of this hellhole. You'll be trapped underground, away from the plains, away from the wind, for the rest of your fucking existence. You understand that, you asshole?

...I...understand. I will...wait for permission.

Glad we understand each other. Fuckface.

There was no response from the spirit after that, and he was able to slowly drift off. The constant pulsing under his tail didn't help with that, of course, and neither did the slow pull-push of the ooze around his cock, but it was enough to allow him to drift into the emptiness that he needed for sleep.

Sadly, that emptiness came with a dream...a dream of a memory of hell.

#

_Olag slammed his head against the ice stalk that the tribe had tied him to. His own people, his own fucking family, had picked him as the fucking sacrifice for the spirits. He screamed at them in the distance, roaring and shrieking in the way that only a child on the cusp of teenager-hood could do.

"YOU FUCKERS!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. "Let me go! This ain't how it's supposed to work!"

They didn't listen, of course. They hadn't bothered listening to him since his mom died. Since he became the 'pain in the ass,' the 'useless boy,' or whatever they decided to call him since he lost the one that contributed to them. Apparently, this was what they'd picked to make use of him._

He whipped his head from side to side, teeth bared, the back of his head aching as it ground against the dent in the ice he'd left in the massive pillar behind him. The twelve-year-old bear huffed and puffed, fear and anger making his breath hot and his heart fast. They were coming, if they weren't already here. They were coming, and they'd want him.

In the falling snow, it was almost impossible to see them. They were whiter than white, paler than the wisps of snow and hail that fell constantly in the tundra, but they were there. He could feel the bite of their presence in the air, a sudden cold snap that bit harder and sunk deeper than the knives of neighboring tribes.

They were here.

They were here for their sacrifice.

Filled with fury, Olag's despair was buried and stomped out. The young bear growled and snarled at the spirits around him, despite the fact that he couldn't hurt them. Nobody could; they were intangible, powerful, here for the one thing that they wanted more than anything else. A body would give them the power to touch the world fully again, to do what they wanted rather than just what their powers could do to the already-frozen tundra. They needed something to carry them, channel them.

It was the deal that his tribe had made. Every five to ten years, they'd bring someone here, a sacrifice, a body that was ready to give in and lose itself, and the spirits would fight over who got it. The body would come back a Champion, someone to protect the tribe from the other monsters, or so the elders said.

Olag wasn't an idiot. He didn't shy away from the hard truths. This wasn't a bunch of spirits looking to make him stronger. These spirits wanted to fucking own him.

One lunged for him, hitting his chest and passing through his fur. The bear gasped, his back arching against the ice pillar as he felt the cold of the outer world pushing into him, spreading through his heart and his veins. He gritted his teeth, snarling, then screaming as he pushed back.

The spirit left, and took the cold with it. Olag gasped for breath, huffing and shaking his head as he sagged against the ice pillar behind him.

"Fuck...you..."

Another spirit tried, and another. Each one slammed into him, trying to take hold of his arms, his head, his legs. Each one was pushed away as the bear got angrier and angrier, the polar bear's blind fury keeping him hot inside.

Was it determination?

Was it the heat against the cold?

Whatever it was, it forced the spirits back every single time. He bared his teeth, his lips pulled back as he looked around him at the nearly invisible wisps that still circled him.

They would get through, eventually. He knew that, they knew that, but for now, he still had some power. If they waited too long, the greater spirits would come. They were still the lesser ones, the ones that didn't have the chance to just take a body at full strength. They wanted it, needed it to release their full power, and they were getting impatient. Some were even getting scared, he thought.

Olag chuckled. Scared of a mortal. That was fucking funny.

"Ya want my body?" the bear growled. "Fucking funny. Go on. Try. Next one of ya that gets in isn't getting out again."

The spirits stopped circling him.

"Yeah, ya heard me, assholes. Ya heard me. I can't keep ya from taking me forever...but I ain't giving my body to one of ya for free. If ya try it again, I'm going to get something outta this. I'm gonna get one of ya, and I'm going to keep ya.

"So, if ya think that ya can beat me, go ahead and try. But if ya think I'm going down without a fight...ya got another thing coming..."

The spirits paused. Olag, on the other hand, just waited.

He didn't have to wait long. Eventually, one of them - mid-sized, but colder than the others, one that moved with a bit less speed - tentatively reached for him. He felt the cold of its presence against his stomach, and then a sudden stab inward from behind, the spirit trying to fake him out. It went right for his spine, traveled up it, went for his heart -

"FUCK YOU!"

Olag screamed again, but rather than trying to push the spirit out, he pulled it in. The bear's arms tensed, bulged, throbbed as he squeezed down with all his mind and muscle.

"I told ya...ain't...getting...me...I'm...getting...YOU!"

He let himself be angry. He made himself angry, furious, almost psychotic. He seized the unfairness, the wrongness, the sheer stupidity of the whole thing. Sending people out to die so that a fucking ghost could take their body and make a champion. Fucking wrong. Fucking wrong. Fucking WRONG!

The hotter he ran, the weaker the spirit was against him, and he imagined a cage. A cage of fire and passion and hate and lust and everything warm that he could think of. Everything that he fucking felt, everything that was better than this, everything that was a finger in the eye to what the fucking village wanted from him.

And he shoved the spirit into it. The feeling of ice running up and down his back faded, but something else replaced it.

Something powerful.

Something strong.

His short triumph turned to pure pain as he arched his back, his arms and legs thickening, his chest throbbing in agony and cramps. He wanted to collapse, and at the same time, he wanted to bend and break and split in half.

Without warning, without comfort, without the slightest bit of pleasure, he grew...and grew...and grew...

And more...he aged.

In a span that lasted no longer than ten seconds but felt like ten years, Olag grew from a teenager to an adult. Strong, powerful, thicker and taller and more powerful than any man in the village, than any champion in living memory.

And more, still himself...still an angry child...

#

Olag woke to the feeling of the goo pushing him up, and he pushed the memories of the past down. That had been a while back now, a real ten years rather than just the forced ten years. It had...it had been a horrible time, at times, and he didn't need to be back there when he needed to focus on the here and now.

The goo let him free, and he grunted as both his asshole and his cock were voided of the things that had been rammed inside of them. He shook his head as he dragged himself to his knees, then to his feet.

No guards, which meant that it wasn't time for his fight just yet. He turned to the other side of the barracks and saw most of the fighters with their eyes glued to the screen. Pirn and Shelly were at the back of the group, but Verk was nowhere to be seen, at first.

Then he looked at the screen, and realized why everyone was staring.

Well, figures that one of us would be fighting when I woke up, he thought as he walked over. Might as well see how it's going.

He joined Pirn and Shelly without a word, standing behind them as he saw what the fight was up to. Verk was fighting hard, hands to his side in a defensive posture, while the tiger fighting him was growling and slashing the air time after time. The cuts that flew between them moved slightly slower than real knife-slashes, so they were avoidable, but he could see that some of the hits had definitely taken their toll on the rodent. Verk had red marks along his cheeks and arms, but he seemed to have defended his vital points pretty well.

"He landed any hits yet?" Olag muttered.

Shelly whipped her head around, but Pirn just shook his head. The giraffe's eyes were fixed on the screen as he spoke.

"Nothing yet."

"Ain't the end of the world."

"He hasn't gotten close."

"All he needs are a few chin shots."

"Olag...what's going to happen if he loses?" Shelly asked.

"Couldn't say," he said, shrugging as he rested his hand on her back. "I'd bet that he's going to go to the labs, though. Anyone that loses just goes and gets improvements until they can win. And then they get bought."

The brown-furred mouse shivered. She looked back at the screen, clearly tense. Maybe it was for her future, maybe she had gotten to know Verk better than he did and she was scared for him. Either way, she didn't look comfortable about the situation at all.

Eventually, she slid his hand down to her ass. He took it as permission to finger her, and she didn't protest. Maybe she needed the distraction as much as Pirn did, and was just more willing to ask for it.

As Olag enjoyed the distraction of her warm pucker flexing around his finger, he turned his attention back to the screen. The rat was bobbing, weaving, but he was closing the distance. It was done so slowly that he was pretty sure that the tiger wasn't quite aware of how close the rat was getting, and he had to admit that he'd have been hard-pressed to consider Verk a threat if he'd been in the cat's position. It was so sneaky, and it had to be intentional.

Let's see how fast you are...

He knew what was coming; there was only one possibility for a win here, and Verk had to see it, too. Olag waited -

There it was. At the next air-cut, Verk ducked rather than continue his side-to-side dodging, and turned that duck into a forward roll. The sudden movement cut the distance between him and the tiger instantly, and the slight gap between attacks meant that Verk had the perfect opening to hit the big guy.

A sudden punch from below knocked the tiger's gaping jaw shut, and the sudden scream through the sound system made it clear how much that hurt. Verk was already rolling back as the tiger grabbed his muzzle, but the camera had already caught the damage. The blood streaming through the tiger's teeth made it clear that he'd bitten down hard on something, and whether it was a broken tooth or a bitten-off tongue, he was in a bad way.

"Game. Set. Match," Olag said.

"...How?" Pirn whispered. "How did you know -"

"Rat's a suspicious bastard, but he ain't an idiot. Ya told him about the poison stuff?"

"Well, yes."

"He figured it out. See how much cuts the tiger can put in the air at once, get as close as he can before it happens, and then hit hard. All it takes."

Pirn shook his head. Olag pulled Shelly a bit closer for a moment, a second finger sliding under her tail, and she grunted as he kept talking.

"Pirn. Ya got an idea for yours?"

"...Yes."

"Ya good with it?"

"Pretty good. I just...I'm..."

"Freaking out a bit?"

"...It's the end of the road. If I mess up here, I'm the only one that's not getting out. Verk managed, you two will, but...but..."

"Hey. Hey." He started to pull back, but Shelly clenched around his fingers. Letting her have her own stress relief, he used his free hand to turn the giraffe to face him properly. "Look at me, here. Ya think that this is gonna be any different? Ya know what's coming. It's a fucking roller-ball that's gonna play wrecking-ball with your legs. That's it. That's fucking it. Ya gonna let yourself get taken out by an overgrown dodgeball?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds silly."

"So does your fucking freak-out. I told ya at the start. I'll make sure we got a plan to get outta here. Ya got the plan. Can ya follow it?"

"..."

"Pirn. Tell me. Can ya fucking follow the plan?"

"I can follow it. I can."

"Good. Now go sit down and take a breath or something before ya fall over."

The giraffe nodded, trundling away as the fight on the screen continued. The tiger was clearly fading, however, and his movements were far more sluggish as he fought just to stay upright. He was sliding, slipping, losing his ability to keep in the fight, and it was clear that his venomous bite had come back to bite him in the ass.

Shelly took a deep breath, shaking her head, and the mouse finally slid off his fingers. Her ass cheeks jiggled slightly, but only slightly; she was rather firmly muscled, after all, and Olag chuckled.

"Done with that?"

"...Not entirely," Shelly said. "But...enough."

"Looking forward to your fight?" he asked, crossing his arms and leaning back.

"...A little," she said, chuckling. "Not the easiest fight coming up, but...at least I'll get to vent some frustration on this asshole. He'll get what's coming to him, that's for sure."

"Heh, I'm sure."

"...You?"

"What about me?"

"Are you ready for your fight? And...are you done?"

"Heh, don't tell me that you're starting to get into all this ass-fucking. I thought ya hated it when I went to town on that pucker of yours."

"Shut up."

"Just saying, coulda fooled me."

"Olag...be serious for a second."

"Serious? In here?" He gestured around the barracks. "Seems like the arena's doing all the serious shit for me. Ya really think it needs any help to make the whole thing worse?"

"That's not - look."

Shelly grabbed him by the arm and dragged him away from the crowd. They were still fascinated with the fight, but the both of them knew that it was over. She led him to the far side, where they wouldn't be overheard, but she still dropped her voice enough that even he had a hard time hearing her.

"You told me what happened last night. Everything under control, or do you need a distraction to get through all that?"

He narrowed his eyes. What fun he had been having with her ass, as well as what hardness remained from his morning wood, faded almost immediately. Olag growled, shaking his head.

"It's fine. And I never need that kinda help to keep it down."

"I'm just saying. If you needed...that...before your fight to keep that thing in line -"

"So, I'm just that thing to ya now? Just that thing that needs to be kept quiet?"

"..."

"Yeah. Ya don't get it."

Olag shook his head. That was the other reason this thing never got talked about; the minute that other people knew that there was something else in him, something that had to be managed, that was all that they thought about. The man doing all the suppressing and controlling suddenly didn't matter. The fact that they didn't even know that other part existed because he was so damn good at his job became the only fucking thing that they could think about, and suddenly they thought that they knew how to manage it better than he did.

Fuck that.

Fuck them.

Fuck off.

He turned away, but Shelly grabbed his arm. He shrugged her off, shaking his head.

"It's under control," he said. "Ain't gonna be a problem."

"Olag, I - look. I'm just trying to help. I don't want this to get fucked up at the last second."

"Congratulations. Ya managed to piss me off enough that it'll stay in its cage for the next month."

"...I...what did I do?"

"Take a minute and think about it. If you're as smart as I think ya are, you'll figure it out."

He stomped off, shaking his head and cursing under his breath. It was a childish action, and some part of him knew it, but there was no getting around how he felt. There was no fucking getting around being forgotten because suddenly, he wasn't himself. Suddenly, he was the fucking thing that he carried inside him, and nothing fucking else.

The bear slumped down against the wall beside the door. He took one breath in, held it, and let it out. The thing inside him was thumping on its cage door, but he had no interest in listening to it, either. That thing, that fucking thing, kept making his life harder, and there were times when he wondered if there was a way to evict the fucker without losing everything he had.

Because if he could, he wasn't sure that he would say no. Not anymore.

Time ticked on, and before long, the fight was done on the screen. As Verk was marched out of the ring, the door to the barracks opened. Four soldiers stepped in, and they turned to face the bear almost instantly.

"You're next," one of them said.

Olag glanced back at Shelly. The rodent still looked confused, a little hurt, but he thought that there might be a bit of dawning understanding there. Whether there was or not, though, it didn't matter. It was time to move on.

"Yeah, take me there."

#

Olag stepped out of the holding area in the arena, and he stretched as he got comfortable under the hot lights overhead. There was no sense of dangerous obstacles this time, nor anything that would suddenly spring up. The arena was, for once, perfectly normal, without even the electrified edges of the fighting circle. It was almost too normal, and he didn't trust it.

Even his opponent, stepping out of the other holding cell, looked almost drunk as he walked in. The donkey was as naked as he was, his cock already slowly spilling out of his sheath, and he wobbled back and forth on awkward hooves as if he had been in the wine basement of some rich asshole for the last day and a half. It was disgraceful.

Olag glanced towards the heights, finding Bradford Callahan in his usual box. The Golden Retriever looked particularly eager at that moment, his eyes gleaming in the otherwise shadowed box, and it put the bear off slightly.

He doesn't want me damaged...or 'stained,' or whatever the fuck he thinks of it as...so why does he look like that?

He brought his attention back to the donkey. Bachus, the files had called him, but Malfust had interrupted him before he could see what the asshole could do. Whatever augments he had, they were probably something that either had no chance against him, or were specifically picked for a certain purpose.

But what the hell would that bastard want...

Probably something perverted. He had been complaining about the way that the polar bear's fights had been ending without the same satisfaction as they had been. Probably wanted something more hedonistic. And if that was what Bachus would do...

He still remembered that there was something else there. Something like...Olag wracked his brains, knowing that he'd heard a name like that before, but it just wasn't coming to him. He shrugged it off, walking further into the arena, flexing his arms and loosening them up for the fight ahead.

Just this last fight, and you're done. One more fight, then you can deal with that asshole up there, and then we can all get the fuck out.

He reached the middle of the arena when the realization finally hit him, and when it did, it hit him like a freight train.

The wobbling donkey reeked of sweat and sex and musk. His cock dribbled as soon as he started getting close to the bear, and the pheromones coming off him smacked Olag across the face and dick. His shaft started rising almost immediately, and his body started heating up, throbbing, warming from the bottom up.

Oh, fucking hell...

The bear wobbled, shifting from foot to foot as he tried to keep a lid on that sudden heat and need bubbling up from his balls, but every breath was making it worse. He grunted, snorting out through his nose, but he could all but taste that musk in the air now. The approaching donkey grinned, holding up his hand and licking between his fingers, and the bear could almost feel that thick equine tongue between his cheeks.

The fucker had some sort of pheromone implant, at the very least, and who knew what his tongue could do once he got started. The bear growled; he could win this fight, but the more that he breathed in that heat, the more that he found it harder to care how he won...or what...what would happen...afterward...

It is too hot.

Too hot...too hot...

Too hot to think, which meant too hot to resist, which meant that when Bradford got his fucking hands on the bear, that heat would make him give in and let that fucking insufferable PRICK shove his own prick wherever he wanted. Bachus was supposed to be a pushover, but the effects would last long enough to let someone else do whatever the fuck they wanted to him.

That...that...asshole!

Shall I...cool it off...?

Olag groaned. The donkey was getting closer, the scent getting stronger, and the urge to do something getting harder and harder to resist. He wasn't sure if he would be able to say no if the drunk-looking equine managed to get his hands on his cock. Or anywhere else, for that matter. The fight...the fight was looking less and less sure, now.

But if he showed the ice, then he wouldn't be able to take it back...and then...then he'd have to speed up the escape, and...

Fuck...

Fuck...

FUCK!

The End

Summary: Olag goes through a bit of a problem with the thing inside him, and realizes that his last fight may be more complicated than he expected.

Tags: M/solo, M/F, Fingering, Sounding, Anal, Pleasure, Goo, Bear, Polar Bear, Mouse, Giraffe, Rat, Tiger, Donkey, Erection, Pheromones, Horny, Series, Prisoner, Arena, Nudity, Fuck,