The new arena, and the spectacle

On the second night, it proves far easier to seriously think about running away.

When you had considered it previously, the thought had immediately conjured mental images of Ren's sorry face. The knife of guilt would twist in your stomach at the thought of leaving a man who had saved you from a lifetime as a **** trader's prized trophy and been willing to give you a chance to earn your freedom. In chains or in bed or however Moira intended to harvest him, some sense of honor had made you want to avoid that future. After the first day, it became easier to swallow. Even leaving aside how uniquely pitiful the elf could be, it was like picking a fistfight with a building. The journey to the arena had proven that. There had been no remorse about taking a life in the ring, your new body seemed more than capable of taking lives and sleeping peacefully that same night. Memories of the new body's previous life, as well as your own old memories, prove extremely difficult to manifest. What you get is broad and hazy, but you don't need to see much to know that this isn't the first time this being has killed. If you were simply allowed to run the arena's harshest challenges, you have no doubt you could crush most of the opposition. But you aren't going to be given the chance to run the standard arena, at least not for some time.

You make a drowsy note to run away if the new plan doesn't work out.

You wake the next morning, having slept surprisingly well. It turns out that killing something, even something as pathetic as a kobold, takes a lot out of you. Ren is curled dreaming against your side, as usual. He couldn't stop you from leaving if he wanted to, but you have nowhere to go. Though considering Moira will own you as well if she owns him, living under a rock outside might be the better long-term strategy. You nudge him awake with more gentleness than the day before. No need to treat him too badly if you're going to break his heart soon.

"I'm awake," He groans. "Do I have to be awake?"

"I plan to run away tonight." You blurt out without really intending.

He looks up at you, dazed and concerned. He looks into your eyes, trying to get a read on you.

"Okay," He sighs. "I don't blame you, I wish I could do the same."

"I might choose not to, it depends on Rocce's offer." You add, trying to soften the blow.

"What is it you're waiting to see?"

"If it can work."

He stands up and nods in a "no time to waste" manner. He fishes Rocce's slip of paper from his pocket.

The building that the address leads you to immediately makes you doubt the nature of the offer. It's a squat warehouse that seems unpopulated other than a grumpy-looking half-elf out front. When Ren tells him that Rocce sent you, he leads the two of you around back and through a trapdoor into a dimly lit basement. There's a sizable crowd at the bottom of the stairs, albeit one that is clearly thinning and breaking up with the coming of the morning. He leads you past them, as well as the ring they stand around, to an office tucked in the back. Inside are a holstaur who seems to carry most of her body mass in her breasts and hips and as stark contrast to a half-elf shaped like a pole.

"Hey Ren, glad you could make it.," Rocce greets. Her voice is flat, even, and has a smooth fry to it. It's almost the opposite of what you expected to hear from her.

"Rocce?"

"That's me, you probably have a few questions."

"You could say that."

"The voice you're used to is a fake for one, and yes, this is my real job for seconds."

"Why the lies?" You butt in.

She answers without taking her eyes off of Ren. "We have a mutual enemy, my friends. The way I see it, you two are our best chance to stop Moira."

"Mistress," The Holstaur brays softly. "We have a limited time."

Rocce sighs, "You're right, for now, you want to enter your fighter and make money, right?"

"Yes," You speak for Ren.

"Unfortunately we don't have any open slots right now, if you guys come back tomorrow night-"

No sooner has the thought of running away crossed your mind than the Holstaur's ears twitch. "Mistress, is Ren's **** the one you mentioned?"

"Yes, Clara."

"I would be willing to spar with them as the closing fight, just to show them the ropes."

Rocce seems surprised for a moment but Clara gives her a big dumb grin, Rocce seems to get the message.

"That sounds great Clara, you show our friend outside while I speak with Ren."

The Holstaur waddles over to you as Ren trots over to Rocce. Clara is barely over your waist but seems to have enough meat packed on her chest and thighs to probably be decently hefty. You find yourself sizing her up for battle and ogling her in equal measure. Her absolutely mammoth tits are wrapped in a soft, almost see-through fabric. To your surprise, she takes your hand softly.

"Come on hun, I've got some explaining to do before we're ready."

She leads you back out into the arena and shuts the door softly behind her. You have to take short, mincing steps to not overstep her tiny strides. She leads you ringside, where a scrappy-looking goblin girl and a wiry elven woman are circling each other warily.

"I heard you fought in the arena hun." Clara says, her voice is constantly soft and willowy enough to sound like she's sighing every word.

"Once."

"That's great hun..." She sighs. "But we do things differently here."

The goblin woman darts for the elf's ankles and tries to topple her. The elf tries to collapse onto her assailant but the goblin manages to scrabble around and plant herself on the elf's back as she falls to the ground.

"No weapons," You grunt.

"Oh no hun, these aren't any kind of fights to the ****. It'd be hard to get return fighters if they were, and return fighters get the best crowds."

The elven woman squirms underneath the goblin as the goblin smacks her ass like meaty drums. She bounces in place on the elf's back, lifting the pinned woman's skirt and sucking a pair of fingers briefly before sinking them into her crotch. In spite of yourself, you can feel your member starting to make itself known.

"Spectacle fights," You sniff.

"Yeah hun, they have anything like those where you come from?"

You recall a memory of something almost similar back in the tribes. Though, it was usually the chieftess defending her title by publicly humiliating her opponent. Never had it been the purpose of the fight, though there had been some orcs whose re-challenges had seemed suspiciously low-effort.

"Something like it."

"Yeah, but I was talking about your other life." She says casually.

You turn to look at her, but she's nowhere to be seen. When you look back, she's holding up the victorious girl's arm as the defeated girl tries to rise with wobbling legs.

"Alright..." She sighs, trying and failing to sound exciting. "For the last fight of the night, we have a newcomer versus... myself."

The remaining crowd murmurs but doesn't seem to mind. You can already tell that the ones still here are those who either failed to find a partner to go home with or those enough into their betting to turn down sex. That and a few couples deep enough into the throws of their own passion to not care. You're extremely surprised looking back that you managed to make it all the way to Rocce's office without seeing, hearing, or stepping in public sex.

You take to the stage when Clara gestures you to do so. A few members of the crowd look on bemused at the obvious complete mismatch. Clara doesn't mind, she sheds an outer jacket, leaving only the near see-through fabrics around her chest and waist. Her mostly non-animal features give the impression that she's less than full Holstaur. In fact, aside from a pair of fluffy ears and a set of shaggy legs ending in hooves, she would easily pass for an elf. Those and the now free tail she's done a good job of hiding. You look at your own outfit and consider stripping down but she waves you off.

"You're fine as is hon, now come over here so I can kick your patootie." She snips with almost charmingly insincere fire.

You cross the mat toward her in a pair of strides. She looks up at you for a moment before pounding softly on your torso with pathetic little strikes. You grab her wrists easily and throw her onto the ground on her back. Leaning down over her, you watch her chest heave and her face going flush with excitement.

"Unhand me you... brute!" She sighs happily.

You let go of her wrists and lean up briefly to unfasten your waistcloth. A few members of the sparse crowd gasp as your hardening member springs up and free. Clara starts to make a show of being horrified by your massive cock and trying to crawl away. As you grab her legs and pull her back toward you, she sighs out a soft but performative "Oh nooooooooo!"

You slap your cock against her stomach, now almost fully hard it reaches near up to her ribcage. She pants heavily as you tear away her clothing easily and rub your head against her distinctly elven pussy. You press your torso down over her as you prepare to enter her, looking into her faraway eyes and leaning in close.

"Is this what you wanted?"

"Even better," She responds. "It's what they want."

"Are you okay with this?" Suddenly feeling a flash of nerves about fucking a near-stranger in front of a crowd.

Her legs wrap around your hips in response.

"Hon, you're doing great, but you seriously need to shut up and fuck me silly."

You thrust in without another word, hearing the satisfactory sound of Clara letting out a groan that says her brain has been turned to mush in response. Your cock slides in with almost shocking ease, Clara's absolutely soaked entrance only aiding you to fill her more flexible holstaur anatomy. You feel yourself bottoming out with ease and Clara gives a whining **** groan in response. Looking down, you can see a distinct bulge in her stomach where the head of your cock is. Her arms grapple for purchase against your broad, muscular back. Her inhales are gasps, her exhales are groans driven through gritted teeth. You reach down and knead her breasts, with each pull on her nipples she trickles milk. The mixed sensation of gentle milking and your cock also only seems to further turn her brain into mush.

As much as you might like to stay like this for a while, just toying with the plump holstaur, you get the impression that the crowd isn't very interested in foreplay. You lean back down to kiss Clara as you start to thrust into her with quick, heavy strikes. She squeals up into your mouth, her eyes rolling up as she climaxes almost instantly. You never knew holstaurs were this... fun.

Fucking for an audience isn't really something that interests you, especially with Clara. All of her squeaks and moans make you want to whisk her away to some secluded cave outside the orc village where you could have fun with her all day long. For now, you speed up your thrusts and start trying to reach your own climax. It's not far off, especially considering it's been at least a few weeks since your last proper fuck, but you can't help but wonder if the audience is getting bored. You break the kiss and between thrusts straighten up slightly. While this lets you hit Clara from a different angle, one which produces new kinds of satisfying noises from the beast woman, it also lets you grab hold of her head-sized breasts.

"Wha?-" She manages before you give them a sharp pulling squeeze.

The result is exactly what you hoped. Clara squeals with bliss as milk comes spraying sharply out of her tits. It paints both of you, the arena floor, the surrounding floor, and more than a couple of spectators. Most importantly, the crowd loves it. They cheer you on and call out lewd suggestions. Some of which are anatomically impossible, but some you happily do for their amusement. Painting Clara's face with her own milk gets a big cheer, painting your own gets a bigger one, painting an eager audience member's face gets the biggest one. Clara is seemingly more than happy to play along, though she's so blissed out that it would be hard to tell if she objected. By the time you can feel your own orgasm approaching, she's had enough that you've lost count. Her eyes are unfocused and distant and when she opens her mouth to moan she drools slightly.

You give one big, heaving thrust and slap your balls against her as you bottom out and feel yourself go over the edge. Your hips buck as you blissfully pump what feels like a gallon of orc cum inside the holstaur. The girl gasps happily as she feels you starting to flood her insides and she strokes your head soothingly as the noise of the crowd gets drowned by the white-hot rush of blood to your ears. You spend a seeming eternity in toe-curling bliss, riding waves of ecstasy as you pump yourself empty inside of your Holstaur cock sleeve.

By the time you start coming back down, the din of the crowd rises back up to greet you. When you finally pull your cock out of Clara and stagger to your feet as a waterfall of cum comes rushing out of her, the crowd gives you a big cheer. You shake your head in a post-coital daze. Then feel a hand holding up your arm in victory.

Rocce grins creepily beside you as she calls to the crowd, "Let's hear it again for our new fighter."

Back inside her office, Rocce hands you your waistcloth as well as another piece of fabric. As you wrap yourself back up, Clara comes wobbling in. She has to brace herself against something constantly as the mixture of cum and her own fluids runs down her legs. She stumbles over to you and leans her chest against you in a drowsy hug.

"You were excellent honnnnnnn." She slurs happily.

"Not just excellent, that was our most profitable early morning fight of all time." Rocce sings happily. "If we get you in at a more populated time slot, we'll have to buy a new bank to store all of the money in."

She extends a long arm and gives Ren a bulging coin purse. His eyes almost start bulging out of his head.

You hold up the other piece of fabric, "What is this?"

Rocce doesn't have to look up. "Try it on, should be better than that cloth you're wearing."

You identify what you're pretty sure are leg holes and slide it on. You're surprised something so small can stretch to fit your wide legs and waist, but the fabric seems almost infinitely flexible. When you finally pull it on around your waist, you have to look up at Rocce in bewilderment.

"Doesn't hide much.," You grunt.

"Why would you want to hide such a marketable feature?" She agrees.

Rocce's offering is a skintight thing that extends from your waist to... just below your waist. It hugs tight enough to your ass to leave nothing to the imagination and tight enough to your package to make it look like you stuffed a melon down the front.

"It's tight," You finally respond.

"I just want you to wear it during fights, you'll be taking it off most of the time anyway."

Clara wobbles up behind you while you're distracted and gives your rear a pinch. You turn around and softly toy with her fluffy ears.

"I want to keep her," You grunt at Rocce.

You finally manage to say something that seems to surprise Rocce. The woman looks up at you confused for a moment before she sees who you're talking about.

"Clara? I'm afraid I need her. I'll make you a deal for her though."

"Name the price."

Rocce leans over her desk, extending a branch-like arm. "Give me three fights in that thing."

Clara seems to sober up "Mistress, are you sure?"

You shake her hand gently, afraid anything harder than a child's touch will snap her.

"Clara, dear. If we make a quarter of as much as I think from this, I'll owe them your deed three times over. Besides, I can have Ren here help me with the books while I train your replacement."

"But what about-"

"You deserve to be with somebody who will take care of you, Clara. When I hand you over, I'll set these two up with a nice little property. Give you lots of room and give them a better place to live than a pair of shacks."

Clara seems pleased enough with this and nuzzles happily against your hand.

"How do you know where we live?" You ask, stroking her ears.

"Moira isn't the only domina in this city with her finger in a lot of pies. Where do you think he got that land from?"

You slip out of your fight attire and say goodbye to Clara and Rocce. By the time you step out of her office the last of the crowd are gone. You trek back to the estate with Ren on your shoulders so you don't have to wait for his far shorter strides. The whole way he has nothing but glowing things to say about Rocce, though he changes the subject any time you ask questions about who she and Clara actually are. When you arrive back, there's still a lot of daylight left. You step into the cabin to rest while Ren promises to return with food.

When you're woken up, Ren has returned with more than food.

In tow are a number of carts with farming equipment, furniture, and stone.

"What the hell Ren," You sigh. "What the hell."

"No no, you don't understand. Rocce paid us enough for that performance that I can afford to have this place upgraded. Gone are the days of barren fields, gone are the days of sharing a bed-"

"Did you set enough aside to pay Moira?"

He freezes. You don't need a further answer.

You storm back to your room to eat and fall asleep to the sound of excessive redecorating.