Fuu Braces for the charge of a centaur

With a deep rumble, the slab of stone that blocked off the staging room form the arena proper rolled away, revealing the crowd. The soft, sibilant rumble of muttered conversation in the lizardfolk tongue drifted into the room like a whispered breeze. Fuu followed it out and found herself standing at the edge of a large sandy pit. On the opposite edge of it's elliptical expanse were the forms of a half dozen lizardfolk working with ropes and scaly hands to roll away a second stony slab that presumably blocked the path of her foe.

"Now there's a sight to behold! A gorgeous human warrior dressed in the scandalous way they so often do!" Fan'zwit'zal had apparently managed to make it back to his announcer's post in the time it took the lizardfolk to roll away Fuu's stone door. She cast her gaze around as was met with hundreds of pairs of eyes looking back at her, some curious, some (her friends mostly) worried, and some deeply hungry for something Fuu was certain she did not want to give them.

The leather armor she had borrowed from the dressing room was something between an underbust corset and a cuirass. It's tanned leathers covered her stomach, with a stiffened point sticking up between her breasts, but the pale skin of her breasts themselves was left completely exposed. If anything, the darker browns of her armor only served to cup and emphasize her modest bust, pushing her breasts upward ever so slightly to make them look all the more full and perky. Rather than concealing, it was like the armor was putting her on display. It wasn't any better down below. The protective leather cut sharply inward at the hip, dipped down to just above her mons, then stopped entirely save for some waving tassels down below. At any given second a thin strip of dark leather might just happen to sway in front of her exposed pussy, saving her modesty from prying eyes, or it might blow aside, flashing her naked sex for every eager audience member in this place. The cumulative effect was that of a teasing strip show. The leather strips waved and tantalized, promising a glimpse of her glistening sex and, when Fuu inevitably had to move and send them wiggling about, rewarded the perverse stares of the audience with exactly what they had been hoping to see.

"Introducing for her debut match in the arena, Fuu Teoming!" Fan'zwit'zal cried and the audience cheered a strangely human sound made all the stranger by the way it ended with a casual collective snarl. Fuu did her best to stand proud, but holding her back straight only pushed her breasts out further making her look like a proud brothel's parody of a soldier, rather than a timid one. Heat filled her cheeks with an accompanying tint of pink.

"And facing down our newcomer is a long time champion of the arena! From the Cursed Lands far to the south, beyond the most ambitious reaches of the many kingdoms of man comes a proud and noble warrior! Born to a place where even the land itself is vicious enough to strike you dead, the fierce iron of his martial prowess has been honed by the blood of hundreds of orc warriors!" The crowd had gone quiet and Fuu could feel their anticipation growing into an almost palpable pressure. "With the power of man and steed alike, Sharkan of the desert!"

The rhythmic thumping of hoofbeats reached Fuu's ears as the boulder pealed away just in time for a centaur to come galloping out into the arena. Standing seven feet tall from hoof to head, his equine lower half was a tawny brown with sleek, shiny fur that darkened down the length of his legs to his hooves. His body was a cooler brown, though a similarly dark shade. It was a faded, mid brown--the tone of skin that belong to someone who's family had roamed the barren southern lands for generations. His body was carved with firm muscle and it was rather easy to see every inch of it, as the centaur wore not a single stitch of clothing on either the man or beast half. With a strong jaw and aquiline features he struck Fuu as almost strangely handsome as though he was just as much a performer as a warrior proper.

With his attention turned mostly to the audience, the centaur turned and shifted, his feet kicking idly at the dirt. In his hands he held two thin, curved swords of equal lengths: shamshirs in the fashion of the centaur tribes. Raising them above his head, he crossed them, then drew one back, scraping them along one another to release a satisfying 'shhhing' sound that resonated throughout the arena. The crowd roared.

When he turned to look down at Fuu and the momentary confusion that flickered across his face quickly alchemist into a bemused smirk. Adjusting her grip on her spear, Fuu got to watch in real time as Sharkan's eyes drifted from her face, down to her naked breast, then, going slowly as though he was groping her with his gaze, all the way down to her naked pussy as it drifted in and out of sight behind it's flimsy joke of a protective curtain. She recognized the movement between his legs, but part of Fuu still didn't want to believe it. The *thing* that swelled up, emerging inch after thick, turgid inch from it's sheath was an absolute monster, longer and thicker than her entire forearm. The mottled pink and brown of it's color was highlighted by the shadows of protruding veins that pulsed slowly with the heartbeat of the hotblooded man-beast staring her down.

Refusing to show the intimidation on her face, Fuu stopped herself from glancing over to her friends for reassurance. Instead, she adjusted her stance, fixed her grip on her spear, and braced herself as Sharkan hoofs hit the send and a half ton of horny, arrogant, muscular horsemeat can charging directly at her.