Lydia Learns How to Fight Humans

Lydia woke the next day, eating her breakfast of slugs, then washing it down with her master’s urine with a disgusted gulp. She sobbed a little as the last drops trickled down her throat. Her stomach grumbled in displeasure.

Life couldn’t be any more miserable. If it wasn’t for the promise of the taste of that sweet cum of Razir’s, Lydia would be ready to give up. What had possessed her to sign her freedom away?

“Today, my ****,” Razir said as Lydia knelt for him, the same pose as every morning; legs spread, hands on her thighs with the palms up. “I shall teach you how to fight human women. The ones in Yaviskas are nothing like the people you’ve fought before. They will be well-trained.” Razir smirked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You'll have to be quick and agile to keep up with them. They're fierce and cunning fighters."

"Okay," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Teach me, master."

“Before we start, let’s go over today’s rules. Humans won’t be as deadly as a blow from an orc, so your punishment for taking hits shall be less severe. I think ten per hit shall suffice. If you’re hit more than once, there will be no reward tonight.”

“Yes, master.”

Razir began the lesson by showing her some basic techniques and moves. Lydia was quick to pick up on them, and soon enough, she was dancing around his shadow in a graceful ballet of ****.

As the day wore on, Razir introduced more advanced moves, and Lydia followed them with ease.

Lydia bit her lip anxiously. She knew what was coming, and she dreaded it.

Then the real fight began. Razir had a smaller piece of wood, the size of a dagger. He was much quicker today, harder to dodge, harder to parry, almost impossible to land a hit on.

With a roar, Razir charged at her, his sword slicing through the air. Lydia's heart leaped into her throat as she dodged the blow, the sweat pouring down her face, through her blonde hair as she struggled to keep up.

Lydia struggled against him, her skin slick with sweat as she fought to avoid punishment. The air was thick with dust, and her heart raced as she darted around, her dagger flashing in the dim light. But no matter how hard she tried; she couldn't seem to land a blow.

She lunged too hard, and regretted it immediately. Razir dodged, tripping her, tapping her exposed neck with his wooden dagger.

"Ah, you're improving," Razir said, a cruel smile on his face. "But you still have a long way to go."

As they fought, Lydia felt her muscles straining, her breath growing ragged. Her master was relentless, and it seemed like he would never tire. She found herself lunging in frustration a couple more times, and received a couple more slashes of the wooden blade.

But Lydia refused to give up. She dove and danced, striking when she could, blocking when she couldn't.

When they were done, she hadn’t landed a single blow, hadn’t come close. And she’d been hit ten times.

Razir grunted in satisfaction as he bested her again and again. "You're getting better, ****," he said, a hint of admiration in his voice. "But you still have a long way to go. The arena girls will be even more ruthless."

Lydia bowed her head, acknowledging her defeat. "I will improve, master," she promised. "I will learn to fight better, and I will bring you victory and pleasure."

“I hope so. Now time for your punishment. How many lashes have you earned, ****?”

Lydia gulped. “A hundred, master.”