Adult Image Library 2/Adult_Image_Library_Volume_2.iso/stories/pit2.txt

Text File | 1996-08-27 | 14.1 KB | 275 lines

Tanya had been co-proprietor of the fighting pit in Gwychaver
for several months.  Trask, her partner, was honest in dealing
with her (as well he might be, considering her enormous
strength) and she was living well.  The business at the pit was
booming thanks to her prowess and curiosity of people at
watching her fight men in the pit.  Tanya took on all comers,
with any weapon the challengers wished to use, and she had not
been injured in over seventy matches.  Wagering was brisk, and
there were seldom less than six matches a night.

Tanya limited herself to one match a night, and seldom more than
five a week.  She knew that the life of a pit fighter was short,
and she had no wish to end her career prematurely.

Tanya walked down the street to the building housing the pit
slowly and proudly, aware of the many eyes watching and the
people whispering.  Her red cloak concealed an imposing
physique, but could not hide her height of six feet three
inches.  Her long auburn hair was brushed straight back and tied
at the back of her head, then fell in a ponytail to the small of
her back.  As the wind lifted the cloak it revealed her
massively muscled arms.  The people in the street all gave her a
wide berth as she passed.

Tanya entered the building containing the pit and walked over to
Trask, whom she towered over by a head.  "How does it look for
tonight?" she asked.

"Six bouts, if you accept the challenge of this one," he
answered.  He pointed at a name on the paper.  "His owner says
he wants to show everyone that a man can always beat a woman."

Tanya chuckled and said, "Really?  I guess we'll have to tell
that to the men I've done for."  She took a look at the name.
"Fergus.  Irish?"  Trask nodded.  "How big is he?"

"About six foot six, maybe two hundred and forty pounds.  Says
he wants to beat you with his bare hands."

Tanya snorted.  "Fine with me.  It always humiliates the owners
more when their fighters lose to a woman without weapons."

Tanya went to her room in the back of the building to wait until
her time.

The first five matches lasted almost two hours.  The action was
lively and the fighting fierce.  The crowd was in a raucous mood
when Trask stepped out to announce the last fight of the night.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the sixth and last match of the
evening's entertainment.  This will be a match without weapons.
Entering first, the challenger, six feet five and one half
inches tall and weighing two hundred and forty-two pounds,
Fergus!"  Fergus was led to the pit by his owner, a tall, skinny
man.  Fergus wore only a breechcloth of black leather.  He was
powerfully built, with no fat and rippling muscles.  There was a
scattering of boos from the spectators.  Tanya was a popular
champion.

"And now entering the pit, the champion.  She stands six feet
three inches tall and weighs two hundred and seven pounds.  Here
is Tanya!"

The big redhead entered the pit to the cheers of the crowd, to
which she took no notice.  As she removed her red cloak to
reveal her bronzed, brawny body, the onlookers gasped.  Although
they had seen her many times before, the sight of her powerful
form always brought on this reaction.  The sweat from the
exercises Tanya had been doing in preparation for the fight
glistened on her body, highlighting her muscularity.  Her long
auburn hair was carefully braided and wrapped in a tight bun on
the top of her head.  Tanya smiled, gratified by the crowd's
response.  She hung her cloak carefully on the wall of the pit
and turned to face Fergus.

The crowd was busy placing wagers on the match.  Most of the
bettors favored Tanya, though the bookmakers were giving good
odds on Fergus.  Some people in the throng had arrived with
Fergus and his owner, and placed several bets on him.

Tanya studied Fergus carefully.  He appeared young, perhaps
twenty summers, and had few of the scars which were usual with
pit fighters.  She thought that he might be inexperienced and
planned her assault accordingly.

At last the wagers had all been placed and Trask rang the gong
as a signal to begin.  Tanya and Fergus began circling each
other, looking for a weakness, in what was known as the circle
of death.  Each feinted several times, trying to draw the other
warrior into a mistake.  Tanya began to change her evaluation of
the younger man in the pit with her.  Though he lacked the scars
of an experienced fighter, the scars she bore proudly, he seemed
to know what he was doing.  Fergus appeared confident as he
circled to his right.

"Hmmm, probably right-handed," thought Tanya.  She had trained
with both hands equally and was proficient with either.  Slowly
the distance between them closed until little more than an arm
span separated the two warriors.

Fergus made the first attack, quickly somersaulting forward and
trying to grab Tanya in a bear hug.  The big woman backed
swiftly out of Fergus' reach, then leaped forward with a kick,
trying to catch Fergus before he had regained his feet.  Fergus
was upright and moving to his right before she could deliver the
blow, however, and her foot met nothing but air.  Tanya spun to
her right, turning completely around until she faced Fergus
again.  She smiled and nodded, acknowledging his skill.  Again
the two began the circle of death.

This time it was Tanya who made her move first.  Rolling to her
left, she regained her feet and drove a kick at Fergus' ribs.
He was able to roll with the blow and the kick did no real
damage.  Before Tanya could regain her stance Fergus dove at her
legs.  His considerable weight crashed into Tanya's leg just
below the knees.  Tanya had seen the move coming and leaped over
it just as Fergus crashed into her.  She allowed her momentum to
carry into a forward roll, and she tumbled across the pit and
regained her feet with half the pit between herself and her
opponent.

"That was pretty agile for a big guy," she thought.  "I'd better
damage him a bit to slow him down."

The two combatants continued to circle each other.  The
onlookers were getting impatient for Tanya and Fergus to hook up
and fight, and a few catcalls were heard.  Both fighters ignored
them, each respecting the others' abilities.  Both Tanya and
Fergus knew that one mistake could cost them the fight, and
their lives.

Once again the distance between the two fighters closed.  Tanya
watched Fergus carefully, looking for any telltale movement that
indicated he was about to attack.  She noticed his eyes flick
quickly to his left, and was ready for him when he spun that way
and tried to deliver a kick.  She moved inside his swinging foot
and caught his brawny leg in her powerful arms.  Tanya kept a
tight grip on his leg and delivered her own kick to the inside
of Fergus' right knee.  A gasp escaped Fergus' lips as Tanya's
foot, impelled by her prodigious leg muscles, struck him with
the force of a sledgehammer.  His knee buckled outward, the
ligaments holding it together stretching until they snapped.
With one leg in Tanya's mighty arms and the other unable to hold
his weight, Fergus crashed to the sandy floor of the pit.  Tanya
held on to his left leg as he hit the floor.  With amazing
speed, she stretched his captive leg out as far as it would go
above his head, then jumped in the air and dropped her knee into
the inside of his left knee, driving it into the unyielding
ground.

Fergus was in agony as his left knee was driven into the ground,
caught between the dirt and Tanya's two hundred seven pounds.
Tanya released his leg and rolled free, as she knew that Fergus
could still do some damage with his powerful arms.  She knew
that Fergus' legs were damaged, but she wasn't certain how
badly.  She got to her feet facing Fergus, who lay on the ground
clutching at his knees.  The right knee was swollen badly, and
the left was already discoloring.  A cruel smile fleetingly
appeared on her lips when she realized that Fergus was nearly
immobile, and therefore helpless to escape her attack.

Fergus' owner, an emaciated, sallow faced man, screamed at him
to get up and defend himself.  Fergus tried to climb to his
feet.  When Tanya walked over to him slowly and deliberately
kicked him again in the right knee,  Fergus bellowed in pain and
collapsed again.  Tanya moved behind her big opponent and locked
her arms around his massive chest.  She picked the bigger man up
and held him tightly against her, then began to squeeze.
Fergus' arms were pinned to his sides, and he tried to use them
to break her bear hug.  Tanya's huge arms swelled with the
effort of keeping Fergus captive.  Sweat ran down her face, and
as she tightened her grip even more Fergus found that he
couldn't breathe.  Tanya crushed Fergus, her prodigous arms and
massive chest forming a circle of pain that he couldn't
withstand.  He went limp in her deadly embrace.

Tanya felt all resistance leave Fergus' body.  She decided to
put on a demonstration of her power.  Releasing her grip, she
allowed Fergus' weakened form slip from between her arms and
slump to the ground.  She bent over him and lightly slapped his
face, trying to bring him around.  Smack!  Smack!  The sounds
echoed through the building.  As Fergus shook his head, she
stepped back and waited for him to return to semi-consciousness.

Fergus became dimly aware that he was laying on the floor of the
pit.  His knees hurt fiercely, and his chest ached.  His vision
was still fuzzy, but he could see Tanya standing before him, her
arms akimbo.  Sweat ran down her face and dripped onto her
chest, running down the channel between her small breasts.  It
glistened on her body, highlighting her powerful muscles.  Tanya
smiled cruelly and gestured at Fergus to get up.  He tried, but
his legs could not hold his weight.  Tanya walked over to him
and offered him her hand.  Without thinking, Fergus took it.
Tanya gave a mighty heave and pulled Fergus up and lifted him on
her shoulders.  She used him as a weight, doing deep squats
easily.

Fergus was too hurt, dazed, and terrified to try to fight any
more.  Tanya began to spin, turning in a tight circle.  Fergus
got dizzier and dizzier, almost losing consciousness again.
"Ready to fly, big man?" asked Tanya.  Without waiting for an
answer she stopped spinning and threw Fergus across the pit.  He
hit the floor hard and rolled until he crashed into one of the
walls.  Tanya slowly walked over to confront the Irishman again,
the torchlight gleaming on her sinewy body.  She wrapped one
huge hand in his long hair and pulled him to his feet, then
released him.  Fergus almost fell, despite using the wall for
support.  Tanya began to use his body as a punching bag, driving
powerful punches into his unprotected belly.  His belly on fire,
Fergus slumped to the ground again.

Tanya bent down and grabbed him under his arms.  "Upsy-daisy,"
she said as she heaved him back upright.  Bending her knees
slightly, Tanya's used her powerful arms to encircle Fergus'
body just beneath the ribs, once again locking his arms to his
sides.  When she straightened up Fergus was lifted off his feet.
 The air left Fergus' lungs in a rush when Tanya constricted her
grip even more.  Her mighty muscles stood out as if carved from
granite as she again crushed Fergus' once proud body.  Fergus
felt as if his body was being cut in half, pressed between the
iron jaws of her arms and her rock like chest.  One of his ribs
broke with an audible snap, and blood flecked his lips from a
punctured lung.  Tanya knew that Fergus was finished, but she
wanted to leave the crowd with something to talk about.  She
carried him around the arena, letting all the spectators get a
good look.  Tanya carried fergus around as if he were a baby,
not a man outweighing here by over thirty pounds.

Tanya finally released Fergus body, which crumbled bonelessly to
the floor.  She turned to the crowd and posed, flaunting her
powerful body for all to see.  As she flexed her arms, her
biceps grew until they looked boulders, both in size and
hardness.  When she was satisified with their awestruck
reaction, she turned back to the limp form of her opponent.
Lifting his head and upper body up, she sat on the floor of the
pit behind him, with her treetrunk-like legs loosely encircling
his torso.  Some of the fans in the building started up the
chant, "Deathgrip!  Deathgrip!  DEATHGRIP!  DEATHGRIP!
DEATHGRIP!"  They knew that this was her finishing move.
Warriors who had escaped from her bear hug and body scissors had
been unable to get out of this hold, even if they had not been
badly hurt.  Tanya locked her right arm under Fergus' chin,
fitting the chin into the crook of her elbow.  Tightening her
legs to hold him firmly, she brought her right hand up to lock
on her left bicep.  Tanya then placed her left hand behind his
head.  She slowly twisted Fergus' head to the left, at the same
time straightening her back to stretch his spine taut.  When she
felt his neck stretch slightly, she suddenly twisted his head
the other way while she heaved up and back with her right arm.

With a Snap! Pop! Fergus' neck broke.  Tanya kept his body
locked in her deathgrip for several seconds longer, then
released him and got to her feet in one agile motion.  Raising
her hands over her head, she turned to the crowd to accept their
adulation.  Suddenly she was aware of Fergus' owner leaping into
the pit, a knife in his hand and murder in his eyes.  Tanya
quickly assessed the threat he offered and knew she could easily
take him if not for the knife.  The knife made it a kill or die
situation.  She turned fluidly, offering him a target on her
right side.  As he thrust with the knife, she knocked the knife
hand aside with her right arm.  Moving quickly, she caught his
head with her left hand and drove her right hand into his jaw,
which shattered with the impact.  Before he could move, she
drove her forehead into his nose, then crushed his throat with a
slashing  blow from the edge of her hand.

Blood erupted from the man's mouth, and he collapsed to the
ground, a stupid look on his face.  Tanya bent down and wiped
her hands on his tunic, then picked up her cloak and left the
pit to the approving roar of the crowd.


continued ..........