The following is fiction. It contains themes that some might find disturbing. Please check the tags and read at your own discretion. All characters are over the age of 18.
Chapter 4: Rest & Retaliation
Hello again, dear reader.
I was about to apologize for leaving you at a low point, but then I realized that where I left off might not have been so low from your point of view. Possibly, it might have even been a high point. If that is the case then let me amend myself. Fuck you, dear reader, you degenerate freak. But I repeat myself.
In any case, as we return to the narrative I feel it is only fair to give you a warning. No, not that I am about to unleash an even greater sort of debauchery upon you, sadly rather the opposite. I know that my last entries have had blow after blow after magnificent blow, but take a moment to catch your breath. Life at the Ring, like fucking, had a rhythm. You start slow, give yourself time to loosen up. Once you're nice and limber you go at it steadily, build up a sweat but not too much, save your energy while you wait for the moment. Once you get close, that's when you pick up the pace, sure and steady, pump yourself up until the moment arrives and you let it all loose. Then you just hope that your load ends up down some poor fuck's throat and not all over the mat, or worse. After that, you need to take some time to recover, otherwise you're just squeezing out an empty bottle.
So reader, let's take it slow. Don't worry baby, I'll take good care of you.
It was only after being beaten to a pulp, raped, and raping in varying assortments that we rookies learned that our living arrangements had changed. See before, Management had wanted to keep us isolated, separated from the world and even from each other. Before the start of the season all of us rookies had been living plush but very tightly controlled lives in all-inclusive suites with our trainers. We had access to everything we needed to maintain our bodies and keep ourselves relatively sane. Now that our debuts had come and gone Management didn't feel the need for quite so much control anymore.
We were moved into private rooms in a building which Management called the Rising Star House, or Star House, but which we took to calling Gen Pop. It was definitely a downgrade in plushness. Instead of a private suite with all amenities attached and meals brought to your table we were instead each given a room with just enough space for a twin bed, a bookshelf, a desk and with an attached full bath.
But whatever we lost in luxury we more than made up for in freedom. We still had our trainers hounding our asses but we had more say in setting our routines. The biggest change of all was that we actually had the chance to socialize. More than that, Management required that we spend at least an hour a day in one of the common rooms on the compound. Bit weird, right? I'm sure some of you have figured out the reason already. The rest of you are just going to have to stumble along for a while longer.
With the matches moving on to more established fighter Management didn't need me in the green room anymore. First thing I did once I got to Gen Pop, even before finding my room, was look for Gym. Turns out I didn't need to choose, his room was right next to mine. Management is so considerate.
My mouth went dry as I stood outside that door. Next to the door, flickering red lights in blocky straight lines spelled out 'Do Not Disturb.' But that was for other people, so I knocked. Nothing. I knocked again. Still nothing.
"Hey, hey man it's... it's me..."
Yet more nothing. I started feeling something like anger. A sharp heat that dried out my mouth and gnawed at the back of my neck with an urgency that made me knock harder.
"Dude it's me!" I was bracing myself for more silence, ready to break down that fucking door if he didn't open up. Luckily for Management's finances, Gym opened up.
His bare chest was still red from all of the abuse it had taken earlier that night. I could see bruises slowly turning purple along his arms where he'd been tied up. I wanted to scream, I wanted to vomit. I wanted to hug him.
"What, man?" Gym asked. I stood there silent.
"I..." My throat clenched up. Something was rising up in me but I pushed it back down. "I just wanted to talk."
Gym rubbed at his eyes. "It's like 1:00 am dude. Can we talk in the morning?"
That... did not compute. Gym looked like a wreck, but the way he was talking it was like we were still at college and he had a test in the morning. I was thrown so off kilter that all I could say was, "Yeah, sure. Sorry."
"S'alright dude." He said, patting me on the shoulder. "It's been a day."
And then he shut the door in my face. I stood there for I don't know how long, long enough that I heard the door open followed by footsteps and chatter. Suddenly the awareness of being seen washed over me like a deer staring down a wolf. I rushed into my room and slammed the door shut. My hands scrambled for the bolt and locked it shut. Alright, we'll talk in the morning.
I was so beaten up in so many ways, physically, emotionally, spiritually, that near as soon as my head hit the pillow it was daytime. When I woke up my entire body was on fire. My neck was stiff as a board, my arms throbbed like a Viagra hard-on that had lasted more than four hours, and my ass, damn, let's just say I was a stomach sleeper for about a month.
After a hot shower to try and dull the pain I did my best to straighten my back and walk like my body wasn't screaming at me. Down the hallway I could hear the clatter and chatter of the other rookies eating breakfast. I followed the noise, the scraping of forks and knives on plates and muffled voices until I found most of them huddled around a table, crouching over plates of eggs and bacon like starved dogs.
Speaking of the rookies, I think another round of introductions are in order. Out of an initial cohort of 22 only 9 of us made it past the first night of the season without saying 'I quit.' I'm gonna get them out of the way now, you will be seeing a lot of them. Too much of a few of them. In no particular order we have:
Myself and Gym: No introductions needed.
Hillbilly: See above.
Beach Bum: BB for short. Take the platonic ideal of a white California surfer bro, bleach blond shoulder-length hair, tanned skin, and lithe, taut body, and put him on steroids for ~2 months. What you get is our boy BB. His opponent for the debut was-
Grunt: Two guesses how he got that name. We called him Big G but honestly he wasn't that big. Fine, 6' 4". 245 pounds of pasty ginger muscle. Won't smile even if you paid him. Won his match after 10 minutes, five minutes of which was trying to get his dick in BB's mouth. Technically still a marine.
C-Suite: Think Patrick Bateman but Indian. Maybe a bit more sculpted in the chest area and with a thick beard I would kill to be able to grow. I don't know who he pissed off but whoever it was had a vendetta with a capital V. Apparently he'd actually trained in MMA before ending up in the Ring. His opponent quit before he had the chance to even get his belt off.
Octagon: That's right folks, his gimmick in the sex fighting promotion was being an actual fighter. God I love Management. More sinew than skin, one of those guys that looks like he's made of twigs but able to punch a hole in a tree. Actual Caucasian, like Armenian or some shit. Yet again a beard I would kill for. Had his fight won in the first punch but it took him another ten to get over his cockshyness. Some people just don't like being watched.
Long Haul: The oldest of our cohort at somewhere around 35. A bearish latino trucker. He can put on a mean mug but he's really a softy, or at least as soft as you can be in the Ring without quitting or being kicked out. His was the match that timed out because he was facing-
Frosh: He was the youngest of our cohort at 19 and boy did he look it. I think that was why they put him up against Long Haul, Management likes a fight with contrasts. With a mop of loose, light brown curls on top of his head and the brightest, most beguiling blue eyes you ever did see he was the picture of innocent. And it wasn't just skin deep. Him and Hauly went at it for 30 minutes and neither had so much as tugged at a belt. After that I don't think he ever realized he'd be put in a real Ring match. Poor kid.
The nine of us made up the first floor of Gen Pop. The two floors above us were home to the more experienced of the general roster fighters. The Ring was made up of hierarchies both real and imagined like that. Rather than just using your money to buy yourself freedom you could also spend it on also sorts of things. Bigger rooms, better food, better amenities, steroids. You know, life essentials.
But back to breakfast. As I stepped into the room all of the chatter stopped. Just last night who knows how many thousands of people watched me get violated in ways I still hadn't reckoned with yet, but somehow those six pairs of eyes staring at me made me want to turn around and hide in my room. It didn't help that the two people I wanted to see weren't at the table. One. One person I wanted to see. Gym. I only wanted to see Gym.
As for all these other fuckers, they were just staring at me silently. Hauly was quite literally slack jawed, stopping with a spoonful of cereal going up to his mouth.
"Um," I said, just to break the silence, "morning, guys."
After a second of silence I got a murmur of 'morning's back at me. The guys went back to eating. Real buddy buddy, us guys.
"Anyone seen Gym?"
A few of the guys grimaced, BB suppressed a laugh (you can bet I remembered that). Grunt had me fixed with a glare. Oh right, he trained with Hillbilly, probably should have mentioned that.
Frosh ended up being the one to speak up. "I, uh, think he's at the... er, the gym."
That ended up being too much and BB burst out laughing. I looked at him.
"What's so funny?" I asked.
BB shut up quick, looking back down at his plate. "Nothing, dude. Just guess they gave him a good name."
"Yeah, guess they gave you a good one too." I said and walked away while I tried to figure out if I'd said something smart or stupid.
Finding the gym wasn't a challenge. Once I knew what to listen for all I had to do was listen to the sound of Gym's overwrought grunting. Yes he was one of those Gym bros, don't act shocked. No matter your station in the Ring, from the losing-est jobber to the Alpha God Himself, one thing you could count on was having access to one of the best equipped workout rooms this side of anywhere. Gym had taken a look at every kind of muscle making machine possible and, of course, gone straight to the barbells.
I found him mid squat, his ass almost touching his ankles. At least I'd thought it was mid squat until I saw his knees shaking. That was also when I realized there was no one else in the gym and broke into a run. Just before his knees gave out or worse I was able to get my hands around the bar. Even with the two of us it was a struggle to get the weight back onto the rack. Gym was panting hard, his skin bright flushed and shining with sweat. There was no 'thanks man,' no 'that coulda been bad,' just one word repeated over and over, "Fuck!"
While he was having his bitch-fit I took a chance to look at the weights, and when I did...
"What the hell- were you trying to set a PR without a spotter?!"
"Y'know how it is man," Gym said between breaths, "when the urge hits you gotta follow it."
This guy, I swear to god. "Yeah well come and get me next time it hits."
"Tried knocking but you were dead asleep."
"What? When?"
Gym shrugged which turned into a roll of his shoulders. "Couple hours ago?"
I looked at the clock. "What, 4:00 am?" I looked him up and down again. "Bro, have you even eaten yet?"
Gym struck a tricep pose in the mirror. "Gotta get the babies hungry before I feed'em." He said as he checked himself out.
"That might be the dumbest thing I ever heard." I said back.
"And that's why you get half the gains I do." He said as he moved into most muscular, each muscle glistening under a thin sheen of sweat. Part of me was ticked off at him but another, hornier part of me had a hard time disagreeing. For all the beating that Gym's body had taken last night, it was a marvel to look at. Meaty pecs with pert nipples, two boulders of biceps, an eight pack ab that I wanted to run my tongue-
Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
"Go wash up man, I'm gonna make us some plates before the bacon runs out."
Gym let out a huff but said, "Fine." There was a hoarseness in his voice as he said that one word which turned my stomach. It made me want to do... things. At the time I didn't have the understanding to say what exactly. I wanted to grab him, I wanted to hold him, I wanted to punch something, someone. Then he turned the corner and I remembered what I was supposed to be doing.
Back in the dining area it looked like the other guys had cleared out for their own days. Fine by me. Except as I grabbed a pair of plates and started piling them with scrambled eggs and a variety of pork meats I noticed there was one other person in the room with me. Hill was leaning against the wall, glaring at me over a coffee cup with only a towel covering below his waist. (Yes, we called him Hill. Billy's your uncle that touches you in weird places when he hugs you, Hill's a psycho sex freak who fucks you until you call him daddy, see the difference?) I lingered longer than I should have where his treasure trail dove into his pubes before I turned back to the food.
"Hungry boy, ain'tcha?" Hill said. There was something in the way he said 'boy' that made me want to choke him out but also made my cock twitch at the same time. No idea what.
"Morning to you too." I said, keeping the addendum 'asshole' to myself. I tried to ignore him but just the sound of him sipping his coffee scratched at the back of my neck. The thought burst into my mind of what it would feel like to have his lips sucking on-
And now I was getting hard in front of the hash browns.
"Too good for breakfast with the rest of us?" Hill asked.
"Yep." I said. "Slept in, didn't see you there. What's your excuse?"
"I like long showers."
Aaaand now I'm imagining how water drips down that treasure trail.
"About last night," I said, "I-" The floorboards creaked and suddenly he was right in my space. I kept staring straight ahead, if I turned I risked whacking him with my hard on. I didn't know what he was planning to do but in that moment I was most concerned with not being seen hard. My whole body tensed, ready to fight back if he decided he wanted some morning after revenge.
"'scuse me." Hill muttered, close enough that I felt his breath on my skin. He leaned in, reaching across me to set his empty mug in the sink.
Remember reader, I'm an idiot.
"Don't make a mess now." Hill said as he left.
I sat down at the table, hoping that staring at half-warm eggs would have some sort of anti-boner effect. It did not.
Gym slumped down in a chair across from me, freshly washed and smelling of the cheap body wash that Management stocked in all of our rooms. I was no expert but even I could tell he was worn out. His eyes were bloodshot and blank. When I pushed a full plate across the table to him he just stared at it for a while before slowly starting to spoon food into his mouth.
"So..." I said to break the silence, but I didn't know how to follow it up. Like hell did I have the life experience to really process last night. Gym sure didn't either. So I said the best thing I could think of in the moment. "You doing okay, man?"
Gym's eyes flashed up to me for a second but he stayed focused on the food in front of him. "'m fine." He said through a full mouth.
"Last night was... rough."
"Yeah, things got weird."
Not exactly the word I would use but sure, he wasn't exactly wrong.
"Do you want to quit?" I asked.
"No way bro." Gym said with a shake of his head. He didn't even hesitate. Only after that did I realize I wanted him to say yes.
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Yeah I'm sure." He snapped back.
"I just don't know if prison is worse-"
"Man, look," Gym cut me off, "If you want to go that- I can't stop you. But I'm not leaving. I'm not running away with my fucking tail between my fucking legs like a little bitch so I can live the rest of my life knowing that asshole's out there laughing at me. Laughing at us! Fuck, dude, are you gonna just let him get away with what he did to you?"
Between the two of Gym and I, I wasn't so sure which of us got the worst of Alpha God but I was pretty sure it wasn't me. I had just enough emotional intelligence at the time not to say it out loud.
"Man I don't give a shit about that asshole." I lied through my teeth. That was also when I realized I'd finished cutting through my bacon and was now carving into my plate. I took a breath to calm myself. "Fine, if you're staying then I'm staying too. No way I'm leaving you high and dry."
"That's my dude, bro!" Gym said, holding out his hand. I swear he only ever saw Predator once but ever since he was obsessed with that fucking handshake, you know the one, look it up. Anyways I obliged him, anything else would feel like kicking a puppy.
"You and me bro," Gym said, "one day we're either gonna run this place or burn it to the ground."
No comment.
Anyways, not long after we had finished breakfast Rod came around to break up the pity party. He went easy on us for the first day, mostly just showing us the new facilities we had access to. We also had the chance to spar against opponents other than each other. Well, Gym did, me? Every time I swung by the mats you'd think I'd just woke up from a pigsty the way the other rookies kept their distance. Throughout the week I was able to get some time against Gym which did nothing to expand my skillset. Rod obviously helped me develop my striking skills, but that felt kinda like taking my dad to prom, y'know?
I wasn't the only one getting the mean girls treatment though, Hill was there for the first day but got similar treatment. The other trainees wouldn't even give him the time of day other than Grunt which meant he was stuck sparring with his trainer, the massive, meaty mound of military muscle called Major Mauler. (C'mon, I couldn't leave out his tagline, it's iconic!)
Hill stopped coming after the second day of shunning and I did likewise on the third. The thought had crossed my mind of asking Hill to spar, but just about every time he passed me by he gave me the kind of stink eye that could burn a hole in your face. So I lifted with Gym, read, watched tv in the common room when no one else was around, and got my cardio in.
For as much as I was a prisoner, and be assured if I tried to jump the fence they would hunt me down like a dog, but despite that, the compound was not a bad place to live. Aside from the regularly scheduled rape parties every Saturday of course, but this was a weekday so things were good. Anyways, what I mean to say is that the compound was built into the side of a hill, giving a view of the countryside below on the northern side. The fence there was more to keep us from breaking our necks than to keep us in, so it provided a great view while going for a run.
With so much of my day free I'd decided to get more cardio in. It was Friday which meant that taping was tomorrow so I figured I didn't have time to lose. If there was one area I was lacking last time it was endurance. Well that and not being in the crosshairs of the resident asshole. So I'd been doing a circuitous race around the compound, getting a good sight of the place. There were the standalone houses for the upper crust, the guys called the Pantheon. They were just a step below Alpha God, and each of them fought under a name from mythology. Hercules, Thor, Enkidu, you'll meet them soon enough, don't worry.
Further up the hill was Alpha God's mansion, practically a compound of its own. My run didn't go up there, I probably wouldn't have been let through the gate. Or worse, I would. Past that were the dormitories for the established roster, guys like Rod and Major Mauler who'd chosen their own names. They were a pair of three-story buildings connected by a bridge between the second floors built in the same style as Gen Pop. Under the bridge was their workout area. As I passed by I caught the attention of some of the meatheads, even caught a wolf whistle which I answered with a middle finger. That only made the hooting and hollering even louder. God, men are such pigs, aren't we? I can't blame them either, if I could get my hands on me, god, the things I'd do to myself would make Satan blush.
Ahem.
Since the arena was underground the centerpiece of the compound was the rec hall. That's where you went for the commissary to spend your hard earned cash. The first floor had another common room, a general dining hall for lunch and dinner, and a game room complete with foosball and air hockey. On the second floor there were more rooms, private dining room where the upper crust ate their meals away from us proles. Rich bastards. Alpha and the Pantheon of course got their meals delivered.
I did a few laps outside the rec hall to help get my heart rate up, it was quiet this time of day, the sweet spot between lunch and dinner when the sun was out of my eyes. After that I headed up north to take in the view. Between the heat and the run I was sweating bullets so the breeze coming up the hill was an added bonus. Speaking of hills, I soon realized I wasn't alone here when a big white cloud of sweet smelling vapor blew past me. Leaning up against the wall of Gen Pop was Hillbilly, taking a drag from a vape pen of all things.
The incongruence of that picture forced a laugh out of me which quickly caught Hill's attention. By the look of him he'd been exercising too, not that there was much else to do in this place. There was a sheen of sweat across his chest and his muscles definitely had a pump going. It was a core day, if I had to guess, and I was more than happy to speculate. He fixed me with that glare I was becoming so used to, and maybe because it was becoming such a common sight I didn't just run past like I normally would have done.
Instead I jogged up near him and pulled out my water bottle for a drink. "Y'know that's just as bad as smoking, right?" I said to him.
"Shit, you a doctor too big boy?" There it was, that boy again.
I did my best to shrug nonchalantly. "Alright, get cancer if you want."
Hill answered by taking another drag and blowing it out in my face.
Honestly, better than cigarette smoke, guess I should be grateful.
"Cotton candy?"
"Bubblegum." He said, followed by a 'pop' from his lips for emphasis.
"Ah."
We stood in an awkward silence. I should have just gone on running, though at least my heart rate wasn't going down. I didn't know why I stuck around at the time, I just knew that I wanted to be around him. Oh, yeah, now's about the time I should give you your warning to get ready for a rollercoaster re: that whole gay thing. It's a doozy.
With my then underdeveloped sense of self I understood that draw I felt from Hill as a threat. He was challenging me, somehow, someway that I didn't understand but I would find out.
"Had any luck finding a sparring partner?" I asked.
"Nope."
"Guess those guys hate you too, huh?"
Hill smiled at that. "Tch, those bitches don't hate me, they're scared of me."
That... didn't make sense. "What?"
"They don't wanna train with me 'cause they saw our match, they know I'll fuck 'em up as is and don't want me learnin' how they fight. Jokes on them, I've been watchin' all their fights anyways."
Shit, that was a really good idea that I wish I had four days ago. But that didn't explain things for me because-
"Uh, isn't that a reason for them to be scared of me? I'm pretty sure I won that fight."
Hill's nostrils flared and that was the first hint I noticed that his 'don't-give-a-fuck-ness' wasn't exactly bone deep.
"I had you dead to rights twice, fucker. Don't act all big like I didn't make you my bitch."
"Yeah? You make a habit of begging to suck your bitches off?"
I could see the anger rising in him and, reader, that was like crack to me. Crack and viagra.
"Go fuck yourself."
"'I'm sorry!'" I said, badly mimicking his accent, "'I'll suck your massive dick dude, it's so much bigger than mine! Please lemme suck your dick!'"
"'least I wasn't the one cryin' at the end of the night."
Now that, that stung.
"Fuck off, dude. You're just a weak little trailer trash scumbag. Too scared to fight like a man without your dirty tricks."
"Think so?"
"Yeah!"
"Yeah?"
"Ye- urk!"
That was when I learned that Hill played football, cause the tackle he hit me with was picture perfect. I wasn't expecting it of course so when his shoulder hit my gut it drove all the air out of me and knocked me to the ground. By the time I had my sense back I was pinned to the ground with his legs holding my arms at my side. He was looking down at me with that smug satisfaction that made me want to fuc- I mean beat the shit out of him.
"That was a cheap shot." I seethed.
He sucked a breath in through his teeth and gave me a lopsided smirk. "Looks like. What'cha gonna do about it, champ?"
"I'm gonna fuck you up dude."
He just laughed as I struggled to escape from his grip, but he had me held tight. He reached down and rubbed my bottom lip with his thumb.
"Damn, you got some nice dick sucking lips." He pushed his thumb into my mouth and pulled it open. I tried to bite down but with his grip on my jaw I didn't have the strength. For a second I though he was about to try and facefuck me, but instead with his other hand he picked up his vape. "Careful, I've heard this is as bad for ya as smokin'." He took a big ass drag, and blew a cloud into my mouth. It did not taste like bubblegum. It did make me cough like a motherfucker and gave me a rage boner harder than titanium.
"And how's that forehead doing?" Hill asked, grinding his knuckle into the scar left from where he'd bitten me open. I was seeing red and yelling in rage but there was no way to power out of his mount. I had to act smart instead. First I lifted my knee up into his middle back, it was enough to jostle him but he kept his seat. Then I pulled my leg up as far as I could manage, thank you Rod for insisting on the stretches, and managed to hook the underside of my knee around Hill's neck, forcing him down onto his back. I moved quick to roll him up in a schoolboy pin.
With my hands pressing his knees down towards his shoulders and my crotch right over his ass, I was hit by more than a little bit of déjà vu. Though this time Hill was pissed off, not scared. Which if anything made it better. I couldn't help myself, I slapped him across the face.
"Feel familiar?"
He glared back up at me. I slapped him again.
"Who's the bitch now? Huh?"
I slapped him a third time, a fourth, a fifth. His cheeks were turning red, and not just from the blows.
"Damn, even with your tricks I'm still better than you." At this point my boner was screaming to rip open my shorts and plow this asshole into the dirt.
He shifted his right arm to strike me but before he could I managed to stomp it back down. Hill moved with his left next and when I tried to do the same maneuver with my other foot I lost my leverage. He managed to roll out from under me but I was back on him in an instant. We fought like animals, punching and grabbing and clawing and yelling. I'm pretty sure he was ready to bite me if the opportunity presented itself.
Evidently we made enough of a commotion that soon I heard other voices shouting... something. I had Hill on the ground with my hands wrapped around his throat while he was trying to gouge my eye when an arm wrapped around my neck and another two around my waist, pulling me off my prey. I was ready to lash out at my captors when I heard Rod's voice in my ear low, controlled, and menacing as all hell. "Calm the fuck down, now."
That was when I realized that Rodeo had me in a choke and Gym was holding me back by the waist. Mauler similarly had his trainee under control, but with his leverage and nearly 300 pounds of muscle he didn't need any assistance.
I raised my hands up. "I'm cool, I'm cool." I said, and Rod loosened his hold. Catching my bearings I saw that the other rookies had gathered in the doorway to watch. Some, like BB and Hauly, were showing their fear clear on their faces when I caught eyes with them, but even Grunt, C, and Oc were tense and readying for a fight, as if I was about to take all three of them at once. Frosh froze still as a deer in the headlights when I looked at him. Hill was right, these fuckers were afraid, not just of him, of me.
I should have been fucking elated. I wanted to vomit.
"This ain't over!" Hill was shouting at me as Mauler was dragging him away. "This ain't over you hear me?!"
Down on the concrete path I saw Hill's vape. I stomped my foot down on it twice until I was sure it was good and shattered. That set off Hill enough that Grunt and Oc had to step in to keep him restrained. Rod grabbed me by the back of the neck, proving once and for all that he had definitely been holding back when we sparred. It felt like he could rip out my spine with the way his fingers dug into me. On instinct I tried to escape but he held me firm and marched me into Gen Pop.
"You cause more trouble, boy, I swear to god I'll tan your hide myself. Now wash up for dinner. Go!"
I did as I was told like a good boy, but my blood was up for the rest of the day and well into the night. Was it jitters over the upcoming show? Partially, sure, but what was on repeat in my mind as I drifted off were those words Hill kept shouting as I was dragged away. "This ain't over." And he was right, this wasn't over, it was only starting.
