Entering The Ring - Part 3
#3 of Entering The Ring
Nearly halfway there now. Part 3 of 7.
"He was there again," Dan said to Mike once they'd got back to their room.
Mike gave him a quizzical look until he realised the bear was talking about the tiger, "Yeah? Back in the front row again?" Dan nodded and sat on the bed with his towel slung over his shoulder.
"I wonder what it is with that guy," Mike mused out loud as he headed towards the shower; he pulled his towel from the hook and headed off down the corridor. Dan stood up and followed him, trying to catch up.
"He smiled at me, it was odd - everyone else was just whooping and cheering, but he smiled," Dan hooked one of the straps from his singlet with his thumb and dropped it to his side, "I don't get it,"
"Aw man, don't read too much into it, it's not going to matter once you're out of here," As they pulled up outside the shower block, Mike had already got his singlet to his waist and shrugged, "Just relax a little and put it from your mind, you're back in training again in the morning, enjoy the night off!"
Mike pushed open the door the showers and stepped out of his gear, peeling it from his behind, Dan watched from the corner of his eye as he pulled his own gear off and hung it with his towel.
The other Gladiators that had survived the night were there in various states of their scrubbing down. The elation of having made it through their various matches was electric and some of the guys were having a good time comparing and retelling their matches. Dan always kept to himself, never really sure about joining in with their bravado - his modesty and desire to just get on with the task at hand methodically let him drift into corners and shy away from contact.
Mike nudged him in the ribs gently and nodded over to the far corner, two guys were very obviously close to each other, talking quietly. One of them was a tabby cat and was shyly discussing the matches with a young husky whose tail was wagging fairly eagerly in the spray of water. Mike's smirk was lewd and it made Dan smile, they both knew those two would spend the next fortnight inseparably 'training', it was clear from the swollen sheaths and body language that they had taken a real shine to each other.
Mike always liked to point those exchanges out to Dan, whilst they didn't really talk much; when they did they loved to discuss the other guys in the training compound. Mike got his thrills from it, which was clear enough, with the wolf unashamedly protruding from his sheath. Dan had seen it so many times now that it no longer embarrassed him, so he nudged Mike back in the ribs and smiled, nosing against his cheek in a friendly gesture before returning back to rinsing off his fur.
The others gave them a respectful distance. They had been there the longest and were valuable to the Arena - bringing in large crowds and lots of money in Contenders wanting to bring down a big prize. Dan liked the quiet he was afforded by his position in the unspoken hierarchy; he was left mostly to himself and sparred with people who he felt wanted to actually train instead of those that were looking to prove a point.
Mike was an ever present guardian, tall and handsome, chiselled and extremely fit - he had decided from an early age that he was no use to his family - he had three sisters and was largely ignored as a result - so he had trained hard however he could, volunteered to do manual labour to make himself strong and was determined to make the lives of his sisters and eventual nieces and nephews comfortable.
Mike was also very open about his interests in men, his affection was a comforting presence at all times, and never forced himself on anyone. But his libido was strong and would often be aroused while he and Dan trained, but never any more than that. He was comfortable with who he was and didn't need anything else. Dan felt safe around him, even if he was convinced a sharp turn would result in him losing an eye one day.
He would be sad to part ways with him when the time came.
Tyler had completed the paperwork, signed the waivers, paid the fee and breathed deep. He felt crazed like he was coming down from a high of some sort. He knew that adrenaline was coursing through his veins and had powered the last thirty minutes of impulsive stupidity. But it was done now. In two weeks, he would finally come face to face with 22-Z-441. The brown bear in the red singlet.
He stood and gripped the small bundle of paperwork, the one thing that had triggered him into doing this floated around his head. The referee's words echoed in his skull, "...sometimes they're just waiting for the right sort of guy to give in to..."
He looked up at the Arena building, part stadium, part prison, and wondered how far in his Gladiator was, what sort of conditions he had to contend with inside there.
He headed towards his car, got in and started it, making the twenty-minute drive home, he thought about his strategy. He needed to convince the bear that he should allow him to win - he had to play the game like him, carefully, thoughtfully and not being caught off guard.
Once home, Tyler flopped backwards on to his bed, looking at the back of the closed door where a clean singlet hung. He imagined the brown bear, freshly collared, entering through the door and laying over him, pressing the bulging lycra covering his figure against him. In his mind they kissed tenderly, his paws sliding around the bear's waist and feeling the tightness of his clothes and the smooth fabric over his muscular back. Their kissing intensified and the bear's arousal pressed firmly in his crotch, which had already filled out with a uncomfortably hard erection.
Lost in his fantasy, Tyler unbuttoned his jeans and released himself to the air, stroking himself as he fantasised about his manly, collared bear affectionately tonguing deep into his muzzle, his mind's eye had his paws grope and pull on the red singlet, stroking the outline of a hard ursine penis.
Tyler felt the first wave of his orgasm slam into his nuts, forcing a thick jet of his seed up on to his t-shirt before the rest of it landed in blobs on his stomach and paw. As he composed himself, he felt a little guilty for mentally using 441 as an object to get himself off again. He panted and stared across at the singlet again through unfocussed eyes - it was red - he'd never dared to wear it.
He drifted off to sleep where he was and slumbered deeply.
Dan woke with a start. He'd been bested in the ring by a giant, much stronger bear who was violently dominant in the ring. He had been trodden on, thrown against the ropes and bitten. And when he was defeated, the collar was attached too tightly, the leash pulled hard until he was raised off his feet and slung over the savage ursine's shoulder. As he was hauled away for whatever evil ends, he saw the face of the tiger again, unblinking, standing alone in the crowd's front row.
He sat up in bed and heaved and panted, tears had wet his cheeks and he rubbed them dry again. Mike was sat on the other side of the room looking over at him with concern, "Bloody hell, are you okay?"
"Yeah, just a weird dream, that's all," Dan gave a weak, but comforting smile over to Mike, who lay back down again.
Mike gave him a concerned smile, "Just so long as you're okay, li'l buddy,"
The bear swung his feet out of bed and placed them on to the floor, "Yeah, I'll be fine," he said as he stood up, "I just need to walk a bit and get some air." Mike nodded and gave him a tired smile.
Dan stood up and cracked his back as a yawn escaped his muzzle, padded over to the basket at the end of his bed and pulled out a clean singlet, feeling the coolness of the material with his fingers. He held the garment by the straps and stepped into it a leg at a time, pulling the material as it stretched over his behind, cupping his package snugly and leaving him feeling supported. He pulled on a hooded top and slipped his paws into the front pocket as he made his way out from his room to the quadrangle.
Sat on a bench and looking up at the early morning sky, he mulled over what his dream was telling him. Now he was worth half a million shillings, the kind of person that would go after him would be very well off, but they would be more determined than ever to win him. He was now running the risk of being defeated by someone that had something very specific in mind for him and he'd heard stories about strong guys with a strong will that will pay good money to win a Gladiator.
Dan hadn't really considered this situation - he'd been preoccupied with making sure that the family had enough money to supplement his brother's income and make sure they always had food on the table. But now he needed to think of his own well being too, despite all the protections put in place by the Arena system, a Contender that wasn't happy with him once he'd been taken home could still make his life a misery within the rules.
He needed to train harder now, to make sure he would always have the right to choose whom he went home with.
Tyler got in his car wearing only a singlet and a loose t-shirt - he'd never been seen in his own street wearing the gear before and found it strangely liberating. No one was around, but he no longer cared if they were, so he just saved himself the trouble of worrying about sweatpants to cover his modesty as he went to and from the gym.
On his arrival, he bounded up the stairs to the gym floor and worked harder than he ever had. Most importantly, he had decided, was to work on his stamina and agility - strength alone wasn't going to get him out of any messes and he needed to prove to the ursine Gladiator that he was worthy.
By the time he took a break, it had been hours of circuit training around various bits of equipment. He sat on a low wall outside the gym building and cooled off, pouring some water over his head, refreshing him and causing the t-shirt to cling more to his figure. He wondered briefly what would really happen, putting his fantasies aside, if he bested his quarry. He would no longer be alone, but he had no way of knowing if the two of them would even get along. The likelihood was that his fantasies would stay in his head and that the bear would not be interested in him.
Tyler decided that if the bear did not want to stay with him, then he would just do what he could for him and make him happy. If that meant letting him go free from his contract, then that is what he would do.
After his workout had finished, he hopped into his car and drove to the Arena and just perched against the front grille of his car, looking at the building for a few minutes, suppressing the urge to panic uncontrollably. No one was around - no one would be for another week and a half. He looked over the building and sighed that the match would come sooner, wanting to finally reach out and touch the 441's muscular and compact frame. He wanted to grapple and cling to him, pressing bodies close, lips searching out one another before entwining in a lusty, passionate kiss.
The daydream was interrupted when Tyler's crotch stirred, pushing out the tight lycra very obviously, and he adjusted himself, letting his growing bulge snake up his front towards his bellybutton. He couldn't be seen out here sporting a hard-on, but in other ways it was exhilarating. He idly stroked himself and wondered what would happen if he got caught. He decided it wasn't worth it and went back to his car and drove back home, nursing the erection the whole way.
Once home, his tight gear was a mess of precum stains from teasing himself, he walked himself to his front door in the twilight without caring about the thoughts of his neighbours and once inside the privacy of his own home, he pleasured himself until the singlet was soiled with his thick seed once more.