Dr. Wu's Arena

Chapter 1: The Race

Erika's long, lithe legs pumped non-stop as her 5'10" frame burned across the racetrack, wearing nothing - not even her white trainers this time. she could feel the air moving past her body, the feeling that it was slowing her down matched only by the burning feeling in her legs, and now arms, as she struggled to race agains the other girls. Her long blonde hair flew behind her, and her firm, perky breasts stayed pointed, the nipples curved slightly upright, at attention the way a young 21 year old's should be - though any arousal was more from fear than anything sexual.

Her face was covered in tears, but she didn't have time to commiserate; the only thing on her mind was making it to the end of the race. She wanted to win it, and she definitely didn't want to be last. She'd been there for at least a week, long enough to know what happened to girls who came last. It wouldn't be a problem - shouldn't be - she had been a track star, recruited with a full scholarship to a state college - but the girls running with her this race were much faster than her previous races, fitter too from the looks of it.

It was down to the last 100 metres, and she could see the poles up ahead. Mounted into the ground, where a finish line would be, were ten black poles pointing straight up at varying heights, each with a smooth stainless steel phallus pointed to the end. Erika knew the drill by now - she had done this dozens of times by now, maybe at least a hundred, and as before the instructions she had been given were crystal clear: the race wasn't over at the end. A final ending ritual, lasting an arbitrary amount of time, would be the true determinant of the winner, and more importantly, the losers.

A surprisingly swift, tall and busty redhead to the left of her reached her pole first, at about 20 metres ahead. Erika hadn't seen her before, but she was definitely new - the way she paused and engaged in the futile exercise of trying to figure out how to impale herself on the pole gently. Redhead's delay allowed Erika to reach her own pole. Slowing down to not overshoot her target, she simply converted her full sprint to a slight jump in the air, lifting both of her knees up above her hips as she aimed her pussy at the pole, her hands reaching down to try and guide it if she missed - which turned out to be unnecessary as she had vaulted herself dead-on the pole. She made it - first place! Even with more competition and without shoes she had done it. Not that she had any time to enjoy the taste of victory; milliseconds after her brain joyously realized her victory, it was overwhelmed with messages from the entire body informing it of the costs of such victory - notably, the pain of the impalement itself. Dropping down with an involuntary shriek that belied her current exhaustion, she found her legs struggling to find purchase on the ground beneath her. After a mercifully brief moment of frantic and terrified squealing, she settled in a tiptoe position with her legs straight down, knees ramrod straight, her toes able to bend but her feet and legs otherwise at full extension just to keep the phallus from pushing against the entry into her cervix.

Poles were a bit higher this time. Different height. So that was the surprise. Every time she completed this race, there was always some kind of surprise. Once it was a phallus as rough as sandpaper, once it was wired to deliver shocks every time she put her feet on the ground, once it was vibrating. Dozens of horrifying variations on an already degrading and terrifying race, she had experienced each one a few times already. However this time, there didn't appear to be anything unusual - which made her nervous; she hadn't noticed any wires on the pole, or two different types of metal for a biconductive phallus, but she was rushed and panicked and didn't get to look carefully, which was the idea.

She could try to sneak a peek at the other poles, but that was far too risky. She hadn't come in last yet, so they'd be watching her, waiting for her to fuck up. And the rules were simple: get on the pole, hands behind your neck, elbows back, interlace your fingers, thrust your chest out, look forward, keep eyes open, mouth open. She could repeat them by heart now.

Directly in front of her was a small stage. On it was a scene that had grown quite familiar to her. There were a dozen chairs, each chair had a man in a white bathrobe. The men weren't always the same, sometimes they changed but generally they were all older - this time the youngest was maybe in his 30s, with the majority looking easily at least fifty years. And the composition tended to be similar: this time it was mostly white or latino, four asians, one black man. A regular United Nations of sports spectators. As usual the men were chatting excitedly amongst each other though she couldn't make out what was being said. And as usual each of the men had a naked young woman kneeling in front of him. The hair colours were mixed, but each woman's head was bobbing up and down very enthusiastically on the man's lap, sometimes helped by the man placing a hand or two in her hair. The women probably couldn't do much about it - as always their hands were securely cuffed behind their back, each wrist connected to the opposing forearm near her elbow.

Around her the various other young women arrived and mounted their poles with various screams and sobs, each one assuming a similar position, as far as she could tell. Still, the ululations and sobbing suggested they weren't taking it as well - or at least as quietly - as she was. That would cost them, she thought. They'll learn soon enough.

Erika's mind turned back to the stage. The twelve men were interesting insofar as their faces changed at various times, but her attention was focused on the thirteenth man. The one who stood before the others, also on the stage. Chatting with them amicably, wearing a red bathrobe. Sometimes he turned to PA, that was the nickname Erika had given the young perky brunette beside Doctor Wu. PA was about Erika's age and the only fully clothed woman Erika had seen in the arena. PA was also fairly consistent: always in a suit consisting of a white blouse, blazer, and short skirt. Today the blazer and skirt were a dull grey, yesterday they were navy blue, she had seen black once; like the men, the changing colour of PA's suits was something she could use to distract herself from the pain in her pussy and leg muscles, to slow her breathing. PA's clothing was always accompanied by some kind of steel circlet that resembled a **** collar, very high heels, holding a tablet of some kind as she spoke to the Doctor subserviently when he addressed her, often inputting data in the tablet or looking things up.

Of course that wasn't the only woman near the Doctor. One other constant of these tableaus on the stage were the three women serving the Doctor. Four if you counted PA, but three sexually. So instead of one tied fucktoy the Doctor had, as usual, three: blonde, brunette, redhead. Not always the same women but always the same hair colours, the redhead currently **** on his cock while the brunette worked away underneath, doing God knows what down there with her tongue. And the blonde - she couldn't see blondie's hair since she was under his bathrobe but it wouldn't be a surprise when she did - working away behind him, presumably shoving her tongue in his... anus. She shuddered at the thought. But she had seen him urinate in a woman's mouth before, so nothing would surprise her.

Focus Erika. This was the man who she needed to focus on, Doctor Wu, she had learned his name was. Steve or Stephen. He was the one responsible for all of this. As far as she was aware he was the one responsible for her ****, this entire hellish arena, these terrifying degrading games. Certainly he was in charge. She had personally witnessed him commit acts of cruelty she could scarcely imagine before arriving here. He had personally placed his hands on her. And there he was, laughing and joking with the other men on the stage, not a care in the world. The thought filled her with anger.

Her anger disappeared in a flash, replaced with anxiety when she saw him getting ready to get off the stage. First she saw him shove the various women kneeling around him away. The redhead was rewarded for her efforts with a violent slap to the face, knocking her down as she scrambled back to her knees. The blonde - confirmed a blonde - scrambled out from under his robes, as the brunette joined them. His three fucktoys kneeling beside each other, she could see their faces - terror and sadness, but also - as usual - breathtaking beauty. Perfect makeup, now smeared with mascara running down their eyes. Each one quickly **** a fake smile onto her face and stared blankly ahead.

And before she knew it Erika, she saw Doctor Wu striding directly towards her, the anxiety being replaced with terror. Not that he looked terrifying. He looked to be in his early 30s, asian, fit, attractive - if you liked intellectual types, what with his glasses and erudite mannerisms. In a different world she might have been interested - on looks alone she would have swiped favourably, though he was way too old for anything serious - but sex? She wasn't easy, but he was easy on the eyes, smart and probably rich, she would definitely give him a chance to get in her pants. She wished she could tell him that - that she found him attractive - that whatever he wanted, he could just have it from her, willingly, he didn't need to torment or hurt her. She was ... what was she thinking? Already kowtowing to such a sadistic horrible man. No. She had won the race, she had to remain strong. Her dignity, whatever remained of it, was all the naked coed had left.