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The Arena

By: Maximus~the~great



The cheers from the crowd, their stamping feet, the dust that falls from the rafters in my small cell.

It is time, and I rise from my simple bunk, and stand. Almost in total darkness, I walk the maze of twists and turns, occasionally hearing a whisper as I pass other cells; "Good luck Maximus", "Strength and honor, General" and the like.

Bringing me to a small chamber, on the bench lies my armor. On the other side of the room is a door. I know this door very well...the door leads to the ramp...that ramp leads to the coliseum ...and the coliseum leads to...well I don't like to think where that leads. 

The guards, from behind the gate , watch as I don my armor. It doesn't seem like much but out there you use what you can. Personally though , I usually stick to the basics, but pass on the helmet.

Once properly garbed, one guard, drops a gladius, it's razors' edge catches the torch light, followed by a round shield, which kicks up the dust.

Standing, alone, I take a moment to make peace with my maker. The other doors open and I can see a light at the top of the ramp.

I start my run, every step bringing me closer and closer. Slowing as I near the opening, so that I simply walk through.

The cheers from the crowd now roar like thunder in the loudest of storms. The sunlight washes over me, turning , viewing the spectacle of the mob, as my eyes now adjust to the light.

Looking over the crowd...my eyes dart. Something ..is.. not as it usually is. There is something different. There! In the third tier , two boxes from center. 

I see a face...a veiled face...but I know the eyes...I have seen them before, I have seen their sparkle before. I continue to peer up, unable to take mine from hers. Everything else stops for me, melting away, sound fading , till there is only silence , you and I.

Your eyes then grow wide...wide.....wide with alarm? Wide with panic? Why? Why panic?

Dear Heavens Above! I Am In The Coliseum!!

The sounds flooding back...the cheers, the screams, but loudest are the sound of heavy footsteps charging at me from behind. Without turning, I can tell what type of armor my opponent is wearing. By the jingle and squeaking, I know it's metal. By the sound of his labored breath, I know it's heavy. I wait and I can see the shadow nearing. 

Glancing up for a moment, seeing you pull your veil away ...starting to scream a warning. Giving you a quick wink and slight half smile.

He is almost upon me, the shadow shows a downward arc of his sword.

I leap forward at the last moment....satisfied with the sound of his blade striking the dirt and the crowd laughter.

Turning to see...my goodness....look at the size of this one, he nearly blocks the sun. Holding his sword low and his shield tight to his body, northern European, pale skin....maybe a Celt, maybe a German...I don't know him but it seems he knows me.

We start our dance...slowly circling one another....studying...watching...waiting. 

I can't see his eyes because of that damned helmet, but he must be roasting in that armor.

He takes a few lunges, getting his range, than a series of strikes and feints. All tests, how fast, what fighting style, what defenses, which side is stronger, all learned in those first few scant seconds. But time is the real enemy, as the crowd grows impatient the louder they get, until the roar can unnerve the steadiest of gladiators.

I hold, shooting a quick gaze to my secret spectator...and another smile. Distracted, entranced, mystified by those eyes.

Raising my shield, receiving strike after strike, blow after blow. Hearing him, grunting, gasping, and cursing in a foreign tongue. Letting him tire himself with his frenzy of stabs and strikes. 

Watching his movement...knowing he can not last much longer...the heat... the armor. and then it is decided.

I lower my sword, dropping the shield and I simply wait. I am grazed and nicked over a half dozen times in this melee. Letting the blood flow, minimal as it is to enflame the crowd.

A hush falls over the crowd.

A pause

A moment...he realizes his fatal error. 

He charges...nearing...closing...sword held high.

Turning my wrist , stepping in at the last second, letting the flat of my blade strike his elbow, as he harmlessly passes. The shock from the impact causes his hand to open involuntarily ....and now his sword is at my feet. 

Freeing himself from his shield, to cradle his numb arm. Dumbfounded...standing there...then he drops to his knees. Head bowed....waiting.

With my free hand, I pull the helm from him. Taking a hold of a tuft of his hair I wrench back his head, eyes now up at the sun. Until it is my face that blocks the light. He has lost and he knows it, sadly he waits, sword tip, inches away.

My eyes dart...the crowd crying my name " Maximus!....Maximus!...Maximus!"

I look to her, with her hands covering her mouth, not knowing what I will do. A quick glance to the emperor. My heart is pounding, aching, begging silently for the emperor to be merciful.

It would seem that he has been amused enough for one day, thankfully his thumb points to the heavens. The crowd is not happy, but there is only one person in the crowd whose happiness I'm concerned with.

Letting go of the saved ones' hair. I walk towards the wall, watching her make her way through the mob, her smile, her wave. Seeing her mouth the word 'Syds' from a pulled back veil. 

I lower my head in a knowing bow, then watch her, making her way out. I return to the doorway with the ramp. Turning one last time to the crowd, hands held high, inducing another roar as I disappear into the darkness.

Moving like in a dream, down the hallways. moments later, padding down along another corridor, one I have come to visit quite a bit of lately. Opening the door, receiving warm greetings, sounds of merriment and a look from across the room from a pair of very familiar and friendly eyes.

The Arena



Hot cum splatted in my face, in my eyes, filling my mouth and I gagged on it even as another huge spurt hit me. I could feel myself blushing with shame though no one in the audience could see it because my cheeks were covered with hot wet man cum. I could smell it, musky, pungent with a bitter sweet taste. My own cock was fully erect in my shorts, had been since I first realized I had lost the match.

It was the first match I had lost. In the past it had always been me making my opponent suck my cock and take my sperm in his face and mouth. I'd known I was in trouble when Horace entered the ring. His shoulders were gigantic, powerful and his heaving chest tapered to a flat six pack stomach then flared again into his hips. He came out wearing nothing but a cloth slung between his legs held at the top by a rope. His erection was full and stretching the cloth before the match started and his balls hung heavy, the size of tennis balls.

Martial arts was my life. I specialized in a rare form from a little known South Seas Island called Parthenon. The Arena is my obsession. I was first introduced to the arena by my friend, Pauline Jansen. It was after a short but furious fight with two black thugs who had attacked me on the street in hopes of getting my wallet. They were both tough and proud but untrained in the arts of fighting. There had been a small crowd gathered by the end of the fight. I was holding the smallest of the two criminals on the ground with my foot pressed into his throat. The larger guy I had in a very painful hold that allowed me to bend his wrist at will ranging from no pain to a snapped wrist. He was literally in tears and I knew that he was completely humiliated before the people there. I fed on his humiliation for some reason and I wanted to maximize it.

I bent his wrist back almost to the breaking point and he screamed like a girl. "Please, let me go," he screeched, "please."

I smiled into his pain strained face. "Get down there and take your friend's pants down," I said.

His friend was strangling near passing out with my foot in his throat. I relaxed the pressure just a little and said, "Try to fight and I'll put you under. Just lie still." He obeyed.

"What the hell," the bigger one said.

"Pull his pants down, now!" There was an audible snapping sound as I bent his wrist back. I didn't break it but I knew a tendon had come loose. He screamed again and I wondered if any windows had broken his pitch was so high. When I relaxed the pressure and said, "Move!" He did. With his free hand he bent and undid his friend's trousers and pulled them down. There were no underwear and the kids seven inch black cock laid naked against his thigh. "You be messin' where you shouldn't," the one on the ground said to me.

"Shut up," I said and pressed with my foot.

"You, Man that screams like girl," I mocked the big one, "get down there and suck his cock and don't come up until you have a mouthful of cum."

"You're dead, dude," he screeched at me.

I bent his tortured wrist again and he went down easily enough. I still wonder to this day if he didn't like sucking cock. He did it like a pro and had his friend's member standing up in a heartbeat. His friend soon grunted and humped his ass off the sidewalk and the big one stood up, cum running down his chin and his pants distended by what must have been a gigantic erect cock.

I let them both go and the one on the ground jumped up still pissed. He pulled a pistol from the back of his pants and brought it up ready to shoot me. His pants were still at his knees and with a smooth rising front kick I launched the pistol into the air then caught him under the chin with my toe dazing him. I had to catch him to keep him from falling, then I reached out, caught the falling pistol and with a quick move rammed the barrel right up his ass. Terror filled his eyes and face.

"Walk away just like you are, both of you," I said. "Reach for that gun again and I'll pull the trigger with it up your ass, boy!"

This time they obeyed, both of them screaming obscenities at me and assuring me that I was a walking dead man.

Pauline came from the crowd after they left and approached me. She told me all about the arena then and explained that it was an organized fight platform where my style of fighting and humiliation were not only accepted but craved. It was a secret place and required special membership for those who entered it either to observe or to participate.

That was the start of my career at the arena.

The fight with Horace T. Crusher was number one hundred thirty-five and the first that I had ever lost. Horace was by far the best fighter who had entered the ring here since I began. I was confident I could win but it would take every bit of focus I could muster. He was not only powerful but agile as well and lightning fast. I had been breaking him down, weakening him and causing him some serious pain. My mistake was believing that he was too weak to continue. His face had glazed over after a kick to the kidneys and he had crumbled slightly and I turned gloating, to enjoy the roar of the crowd which I loved.

Horace recovered at that moment and his foot caught me right at the base of my skull. Everything went black and I came out of the haze slowly. My eyes wouldn't focus. There was something that looked fuzzy but was unmistakably the head of a huge penis the size of my fist. "Lick it," he said. The piss slit was opening and closing like a mouth breathing and as my vision slowly cleared I realized that I had lost. He had me in a hold that I had no chance of escaping. It was my turn to suffer humiliation before the crowd that had so often cried for me to crush my opponent.

Slowly I flicked my tongue out and licked his slit. My tongue went right inside and tasted pre-cum that was oozing from the huge opening. I licked all around the face of his cock head. It was the first time I had ever been forced to do something gay and I felt my own cock rise in my shorts. No, it couldn't be. I was straight as an arrow. I licked him again and tasted the saltiness of his silky flesh. I could see clearly now and I looked at his balls, the size of tennis balls, tight in his sack now. I stretched my mouth wide until the cheeks hurt and finally I was able to get the head of his cock inside. He squirted filling my mouth with cum and I swallowed in self preservation so I wouldn't strangle.

At first I thought he was cumming but when he squirted again a few seconds later I realized that it was his pre-cum squirting in my mouth. Most people oozed pre-cum and Horace shot it. My boner was raging in my shorts now. I had never felt so completely crushed in my life. My fans were watching, hooting, hollering, loving my defeat as I sucked Horace's huge cock into my mouth. He had such a hold on me that he was able to free one of my hands so I was able to reach up and touch him. I wanted to touch those balls, hold them. I wrapped my hand around them, lifted them, they were heavy, full. He pulled his cock back and said, "Easy boy," and squirted pre-cum again, this time it shot in my face. I wanted him now. I licked the length of his huge shaft. He was at least twelve inches long. People said I was big but my eight inches was dwarfed by Horace.

I knew people were watching but I couldn't stop myself as I caressed and licked him and then I tried to take him in my mouth again. This time I got his head in and was able to suck him some as I stroked him and squeezed his balls with my free hand. 

"Oh boy! It's here! I'm gonna cum, boy!" Horace arched back and howled in a deep voice then his balls pulled tight, his cockhead swelled in my mouth and throbbed and I thought my cheeks would tear. I felt his balls contract in my fingers and then hot creamy cum filled my mouth and throat. I swallowed desperately as another huge load of his cum filled me. His hand held my head to him and he pumped load after load of cum into my throat. I started choking and gagging and my cock throbbed in my shorts and then he let my head go and I pulled back. He came again, then again, huge ropes of hot creamy cum covered my face and got in my eyes and I could hear the crowd laughing at me, jeering but I couldn't see them because I was blinded by Horace's cum.

Finally he sighed and I felt him relax his grip on me then he reached down and pulled my shorts and jock strap to my knees. His timing was perfect because just as he pulled them down I came spurting cum all over his bare stomach and chest and in front of everyone he made me lick him clean. It was the first time I had ever lost and I was so completely humiliated and so completely in love with Horace. I stayed in my dressing room after leaving the ring. I showered and cleaned up and put on fresh clothing. I turned on the tv to see who was fighting. It was still Horace in the ring and when he destroyed the weak fighter I jerked off watching him destroy the man by humiliation.

My head hung down as I left that night. I was shamed and Horace was the hero now.

Someone grabbed my shoulder. I spun around ready to fight and looked into the face of one of the audience. She stepped back a little when she saw my face then she smiled. "We still love you, Jason, you were wonderful tonight even if you did lose." 

I smiled back. "Thanks. That means a lot."

As I turned away another hand, more powerful grabbed my shoulder. I spun again.

"Easy boy," Horace did not back off a bit. I couldn't believe it but just the sight of his face and his hand on my shoulder caused me to rise in my jeans. He slipped a folded piece of paper into the waistband of my jeans, reached into my crotch and squeezed my balls, stroked my boner and left."

I didn't read the note until I was in my apartment. It said, Jason, you are the best I've ever seen and you were wonderful. I thought you had won until you lost focus strutting for the crowd. I loved making you do me but I would have loved sucking you just as much. Then he had his address and phone number on the paper. Please come tomorrow, it said. I want to see you alone.

I smiled and put the note on my table. This had to get better and better, I thought.



The Arena



Lying in the trunk of the car, Cheetah had the usual butterflies in her stomach before a match, but she was confident. She ran her hands over her nude body. The muscles were firm and taut. At 28 years old, She had never been in this good of shape in her life. She felt confident in her training also. 

The one thing that did give her reason for concern was that she had heard some things from some of the other girls about her opponent for today. No one had seen her fight but rumor had it that she was something extraordinary. She knew they called her 'The Machine', her real name was Marsha or Monica or something like that, but as with all the other fighters, she went by a nickname. Supposedly she got the name The Machine because she was totally emotionless when she fought and she totally destroyed her opponents. 'Well, that was probably just so much gossip,' Cheetah thought, sure that she had quite a reputation herself. The fact that even Master seemed unusually tense about this match, did give her some apprehension, but she wouldn't allow those thoughts to linger in her mind. She would win her match and make Master proud. Ruth, that bitch, had just taught her some new moves and she was eager to try them out. 

"Speed is your ally." Ruth had drilled into Cheetah from almost day one. Day one, that seems like a lifetime ago to her but it was less than six months. Her previous life seems like a dream to her now, like it was someone else. In a way she guessed it was someone else. It was Christine Langford, Mrs. Christine Langford to be exact. 

Now she was Cheetah. Cheetah is quick and aggressive. Christine was slow and weak. Christine was aimless, she had no passion. Cheetah has passion and purpose, pleasing Master. She wonder what her old friends would think if they saw her now. Locked naked in the trunk of a car, on her way to fight another woman. 

She also wonder what her husband would think. Her ex husband now, she guessed, although we they never really divorced. She hadn't talked to him since she left him six months ago, Master does not allow his girls to talk on the phone. She was not sure what she'd say to him anyway. 

After five years of marriage, it just wasn't working, at least it wasn't working for her. Tim was happy. She felt sorry for him. He tried every way he knew to please her. By the time she left he was even doing most of the housework and all of the laundry, thinking that these things would make her happy. 

Everyone had told her to find a stable man who was a good provider to marry. Tim was stable, no doubt about that. What she didn't know was that stable was also boring. Stable was continuously being left unsatisfied. 

How could she tell him that she needed a man who would make her feel like a woman? She needed a man that would make her want to serve him and do things to please him. The better Tim treated her, the more he pampered her, the less she respected him, the less she desired him. 

Master was different, very different. Christine first learned of him from a website. A while back she had been viewing videos people had posted on the Internet. One of them was of two girls fighting in a park. They were surrounded by their friends who were urging them on. Something about that video, the way the guys cheered when the one girl knocked the other to the ground and really started pounding her, really got to her. 

Christine started searching more and more for what she later learned were called catfight videos. She liked the fights themselves but what she liked even more was the reaction of the guys as they watched the girls going at it. She couldn't get enough of the videos. 

Christine never told her husband about my obsession, he was totally non-violent. He didn't even like watching boxing or football. How would he understand that she liked watching girls beat the shit out of each other?

One day while searching for more catfight videos, Christine came across a strange website. It didn't contain any videos, not even any pictures. It was more of an advertisement looking for submissive women who were into catfighting. 

'Am I submissive?' Christine thought. She didn't even know. She certainly wasn't submissive to her husband, she couldn't imagine being submissive to him. 'But maybe with the right man...'

Christine thought about that website constantly for a few days before she got up the nerve to send an e-mail. In her note she said that she was into catfighting and wanted to learn more. She then went on to describe herself, knowing that this was the first thing a guy would wander about, she wrote that she was 5'6, 145 lbs with light brown hair and green eyes. 36C-26-37. She also mentioned that she was currently married, no kids. 

The next day she received a reply. Rather than trying to talk her into it, as she expected, the e-mail was very negative, saying that this was only for serious individuals only and not for bored housewives looking for a thrill. The e-mail was signed "Master".

Christine flushed with anger, she felt totally insulted, 'I'm not a fucking bored housewife' she thought. She wrote back saying that she was serious, that she knew what she was getting into and that it is exactly what she is looking for. In truth she knew that she was more curious than anything else, but to just be dismissed like that rubbed her the wrong way. 'Who did this "Master" think he was?'

The letter that came back floored her. It said he was looking for girls willing to become a member of his stable to be trained to perform in nude catfights. He went on to say that if she accepted, she would have no possessions and would become his property to be used as he saw fit. He concluded by telling her to go away and not waste any more of his time. 

Christine was incensed, "property?" she would never be anyone's property. This was ridicules, how could he even suggest such a thing? But try as she might, she couldn't get him out of her head. In spite of her best efforts to forget about him and about catfighting and getting back to her regular life, she couldn't help imagining herself as one of his girls, nude, fighting another girl for his pleasure. Christine re-read that letter many times over the next few days. Finally she wrote him back. 

Over the next few weeks our letters shifted to phone conversations. His voice was deep, confident, refined. He never encouraged her, he never urged her on. Always he advised her against it. He told her she would be drained by the grueling training, she would be bruised by the fights and she would be punished for losing. 

The more he pushed her away, the more fervently she tried to convince him of her sincerity and desire to join his stable. Eventually she was practically pleading with him to take her. He finally agreed. 

Leaving her husband was difficult. She didn't want to hurt him, he was so sweet to her. He just didn't, couldn't give her what she needed. The news took him totally by surprise. He had no clue that she was unhappy. He cried and said that he would treat her better and do whatever it took to convince her to stay. She realized that he really didn't understand her. This wasn't too surprising, she thought, she didn't really understand herself. 

Christine left everything to Tim except her car and a suitcase of clothes. She then set out to travel from Chicago to rural Ohio to start her new life. 

Bouncing against the foam cushion on the floor of the trunk as the car skipped over a bump in the road, Cheetah thought that riding in the trunk of a car is not as bad as you might imagine. At least this one wasn't bad. It was fairly spacious, and the foam padding and blanket made it comfortable. The total darkness and steady hum of the tires against the road made it easy to clear your mind and concentrate on the impending fight.

That's another thing Ruth had taught her. "Keep your mind sharp and your thinking clear." She had said. "Stay focused on what your opponent is doing throughout the match, in that way, you can anticipate her next move and be ready to counter."

Ruth was the one who greeted Christine at the door when she first arrived at Master's massive estate. The large house was set back from the country road almost a half-mile. There was also a large barn and a steel building on the property near the house. 

"Hi, I'm Christine." she said as Ruth opened the door. Ruth didn't say anything at first, she simply looked the young woman over. Ruth was in her mid thirties. She had a rugged, stern looking face that conveyed a no-nonsense attitude. She was about Christine's height but much more muscular. She had blonde hair that she kept cut very short. Ruth wasn't at all pleased with what she saw. She gave her head a slight shake in indignation and told Christine to follow her. 

Ruth led Christine through the foyer to a comfortable living room with what looked to her to be at least a forty foot vaulted ceiling. Windows on the back of the living room ran up almost the entire height of the wall and gave a spectacular view of the rolling, wooded landscape and the two large ponds.

"Christine, so good to finally meet you in person." Came the now familiar voice from behind her. Christine turned to face him, while she was accustomed to his voice, she had never seen what he looked like. He was taller than she expected, maybe six two or six three, very attractive with short dark hair and a close-cropped beard and mustache. He looked to be about 40 years old. 

What Christine found was most striking about him were his eyes, they were dark and penetrating. He seemed to be looking right through her into her soul. "Hi... umm... Master." She said shyly. 

Master took Christine in his arms and gave her a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek. "Ruth will show you around, you'll meet the other girls soon, Tigress is out and Jaguar is exercising."

There was no 'How was your trip? Or small talk about her life or any of the other pleasantries Christine expected.

Ruth walked up to Christine and looking her square in the eyes said "Slap me across my face."

"What?" Christine asked, not believing she said what she had said.

Ruth's face took on a disgusted expression as she looked at Master. "This one is not only weak, she's stupid. Why don't you get me a girl who has at least a little potential? I'll never be able to train her."

Master smiled at her. "If it were easy, anyone could do it."

Ruth looked back to Christine. "OK, I'll show you around, follow me, you do know how to put one foot in front of the other and walk, don't you?"

"Yes." Christine hissed. She was already starting to dislike Ruth and Ruth was making it clear that she had no love for her. 

The house was massive and comfortable. All the floors were hardwood and the furniture looked very expensive. Ruth first led Christine upstairs to a very large bedroom with a king size bed. "This is the room you'll share with the other girls, you can leave your suitcase here."

Christine set her bag down and Ruth proceeded to show her the rest of the house. There was an indoor Olympic size pool, a Jacuzzi, and a huge exercise room that had every kind of device imaginable and a large mat that was maybe twenty five by twenty five feet with a large circle around the interior perimeter

This is where Christine first met Jaguar. As Ruth and Christine entered the room she saw her. Jaguar was tall and trim with long dark hair, which was tied in a ponytail. She was wearing a bikini and practicing roundhouse kicks on a heavy bag. With every kick she let out a loud shriek as her foot landed with more force than Christine thought possible. Her superbly toned body glistened with sweat from her exertion. 

"Jaguar!" Ruth called out.

Jaguar turned to face them and Christine saw such a look of intensity on her face that it made her shiver. The look melted however as soon as Jaguar saw them and was quickly replaced with a broad Smile. She ran excitedly over to where they were standing. "You must be Christine!" she squealed as she threw her arms around her kissing her on the lips. 

"Yes, I am." Christine said as Jaguar broke the kiss and smiled at her. 

"It's going to be so much fun to have a fresh face around here!" she beamed.

"Better get back to your practice Jaguar, you have a big match coming up." Ruth said.

"Yes Ma'am." She said, she then looked back at Christine. "We'll talk later, I'm so happy you're here." She gave her another kiss, this one was a little longer, a little more sensual. Then she sprinted back to the bag. Christine walked over to where I could see her face. Jaguar just stared at the bag for a moment shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Once again the fiercely intense expression returned. She then resumed her shrieking kicks.

"Jaguar is a very friendly girl." Ruth said as they walked out of the exercise room. 

"Indeed." Christine replied. The transition in Jaguar's expression was startling. She was a very pretty girl with a perfectly symmetrical oval face, maybe twenty-five years old she judged. The kind of girl you might expect to find rollerblading at Venice Beach. 'If she had come at me with that fierce expression on her face, I would have probably either ran or pissed my pants, maybe both.' Christine thought.

Ruth led Christine to what she called the Arena. It was a large square building. As they approached, she noticed a large area next to the building that was covered with gravel. 'Must be where the visitors park.' she thought.

Inside, Christine saw the perimeter had bleacher style seating on four sides facing a mat identical to the one in the exercise room. "This is where you'll be fighting when we host the matches, however most of the time we'll be traveling to other locations for the matches." Christine scanned the bleachers, the place looked like it could easily hold four or five hundred people. 

Finally Ruth showed her what she had at first thought was a large barn. It turned out to be a stable. "Horses!" Christine yelled, there were at least fifteen or twenty horses in individual stalls. "I love horses, can I ride them?"

"Certainly, during your free-time, of which you'll have none for at least the next three weeks."

Christine frowned and petted a beautiful chocolate colored horse on its nose. 

"Put on a bikini and meet me in the exercise room in 10 minutes, if you don't have a bikini, your underwear will do for now."

Christine hesitated for just a second and then sprinted back to the house. Fortunately she did have a bikini packed with her. 

When Christine arrived back at the exercise room Jaguar was already gone but Ruth was there waiting for her. Ruth had her do some stretching exercises to warm up. She studied Christine's body while leading her through several stretches. Christine was a bit self-conscious about her body, 'I could certainly stand to lose ten or fifteen pounds.' She thought. 

Ruth then told Christine to face her and defend herself. Christine spread her legs and raised her arms, poised for an attack. Ruth feigned a lunge for Christine's head, who threw her hands higher and rocked backwards. Ruth swiftly reached her right arm between Christine's legs and lifted her off her feet. She then slammed Christine down on her back so hard that she nearly lost her breath. In a flash Ruth was on top of Christine with her forearm pressing into her throat so hard that she couldn't breathe.

"Just because you are slow and stupid, don't think I'm going to take it easy on you. "She snarled into her face. "I don't want you here, you are going to lose every match you are in and ruin my reputation."

Christine was starting to see in tunnel vision and was close to passing out by the time Ruth finally got off her and allowed her to breathe again. Christine gasped for air and wiped the tears from her eyes. 

"Until you are jumped in, you have the opportunity to walk away from here and go home anytime." Ruth's stern gaze softened a bit. "Listen, this is not for you, I've trained a lot of girls and I can tell that you do not have what it takes. I'm not sure what you thought this was all about, but you were wrong, it's work and pain and humiliation. Go home now."

First Master and now Ruth. Christine couldn't believe it. Jaguar was the only one who really seemed happy that she was here. Ruth's rejection made Christine all the more determined to stay. "No!" she shouted, "this is what I want, I'm not leaving!"

Ruth shook her head in disgust. "OK, get up and let's go at it again."

This time rather than just attacking her, Ruth explained what she was doing, how the way Christine was standing and holding my arms made her vulnerable to certain moves. She had Christine try different moves on her and showed me how they could be countered. 

After a couple hours of this, Ruth told Christine to hop in the pool and start doing laps. Christine swam and swam and was exhausted and barely treading water by the time Ruth came and told her to come out of the pool. She was so weak and tired that she was able to drag herself out.

"Here's and exercise routine I've developed for you," she said, handing Christine a sheet of paper, "it's designed to enhance speed, strength and quickness. Speed will be the key to your fighting style."

As Christine looked over the exercise routine, Ruth explained the rules of the matches. "The only article of clothing you'll be wearing, beside your slave collar of course, will be hand mitts," she said, "these serve two purposes, they soften punches but more importantly, they prevent hair pulling. The spectators do not like hair pulling, it slows down the action."

"You are not allowed to use your elbows or knees to strike at your opponents face, even so, protect yourself at all times, 'accidents' happen. Those are the only rules, other than that, the match will continue till you or your opponent is either pinned or signals a submission."

"While it's not a rule, it is tradition that the winner of the match immediately mounts her opponents face and is orally serviced by her. I strongly suggest that you follow this tradition." This didn't surprise Christine, it seemed kind of natural that the winner would sit on the losers face and be licked by her.

Christine was totally spent by the time Ruth told her to take a shower and get ready for dinner. 

Christine met Tigress at dinner. She was a tall, strikingly beautiful, with long blonde hair and high cheekbones. She was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans but even with this attire she looked awesome. Her breasts looked to be at least full Cs if not Ds. She moved and spoke with a grace and ease that conveyed ultimate confidence. 

Tigress was not nearly as happy as Jaguar to see Christine. She gave her a cold "hello and stiff hug as Master introduced them and then totally ignored me as they ate. In contrast, Jaguar was warm and bubbly, always smiling and laughing. 

A middle-aged Hispanic woman named Corrine, who spoke absolutely no English served dinner. Christine learned that Corrine worked at the home full time and did all the cooking, cleaning and laundry. 

Jaguar dominated the dinner conversation. She had been looking at a website where people, mostly teens, posted their thoughts on song lyrics. "This one girl was talking about the words of a song saying the writer was talking about his penis." Jaguar said, barely to contain her laughter, "then the next poster said that she looked up all of the first girl's posts and in every one she said that the singer was talking about his penis."

"The first girl wrote back and said she didn't realize it, but maybe she was the one obsessed about penises. These kids are so funny!" Jaguar laughed. "It's like 'and she's climbing a stairway to heaven' that's about his penis." Her laughter was infectious and she had us all rolling describing the different things she saw on that website. Even Ruth joined in, in the laughter. 




The Arena



After dinner Ruth had Christine follow her into a room that had a large video screen. She showed her films of different matches and pointed out what each girl was doing with every move and how the one had outmaneuvered her opponent to archive the victory.


Each of the girls they watched was fast and powerful, Christine began to wonder just what I had gotten herself into. 'How am I going to beat any of them?' she thought.

After that tactics session Christine was led to a room with a massage table. There she learned that in addition to her other talents, Corrine was a licensed masseuse. A daily massage was part of the regular routine, a very nice part. She laid back and let her cares float away as her sore and aching muscles were expertly soothed.

After the massage, Christine felt totally drained and ready for sleep as she made her way to the bedroom. Opening the bedroom door, she found Tigress sitting at the vanity, she was dressed in a very sexy nightgown and was being primped by Jaguar. "Christine, why don't you brush Tigress's hair while I finish her makeup?"

Christine was exhausted, but she complied. Jaguar later explained to her that the last girl to win a match got to spend the nights with Master. After Tigress left, Christine changed into a baggy t-shirt and a pair Christine climbed into bed, Jaguar immediately began to cuddle with her. 

"It's so great having someone to share the bed with," Jaguar said as she molded her body to Christine's, lying on her side as Christine laid on her back, "I get so lonely at night."

Christine was bone tired but she was also very curious. "Jaguar, how did you get into this?" she asked.

Jaguar slowly sat up and sat facing Christine cross-legged on the bed. "Wow, that seems like so long ago," she said as her pretty face took a far-away look, "I was always a bit of a hell raiser as I was growing up, always getting in trouble, I never got along with my parents. I ended up running away from home when I was 15. I drifted around for a while, making money however I could on the street. Then I hooked up with this guy named Reno." Her whole body shuddered at the memory. "He was a real bastard, he's the one who got me into catfighting. He also got me into cocaine and methamphetamines. The next 3 or so years are all foggy in my memory, I know I had a lot of fights and did a lot of drugs, and took a lot of beatings when I would lose. I tried to train hard and to win my matches, but I was so spun out all the time that nothing seemed to go right."

Christine moaned softly and took Jaguar's hand on hers, Jaguar came out of the gloom of her memories and squeezed her hand. "Then," she continued, "I was entered into a 'winner take-all' match, meaning that whoever lost became the property of the master of the winning girl. My match was against Tigress and I had no chance, these days I might be a decent match for her but back then I had very little training and was in poor health. She beat me easily and I became property of Master." Jaguars face took on a dreamy expression. "I think that was the best day of my life. Reno was pissed but there was nothing he could do about it. I heard later that Master had goaded him into the match, playing on Reno's ego, which is not hard to do. Anyway, the first thing that Master did was to set me free." Jaguar looked Christine directly in the face. "I couldn't believe it, but he gave me some money and the name of a guy who would help me get a place to stay and find a job, and sent me out the door."

Christine sat up. "Then how did you end up back here?"

"After a couple months working in a supermarket, I realized more and more every day that I really missed it. I mean I didn't miss the beatings and all, but the competition, the thrill of the fight. And I knew Master was different, that he was good to his girls, so I came back and asked him to take me in again." Jaguar's face clouded a bit, "he said he would take me back, but only after a full year of me being out of it and on my own. Then if I still wanted to get back in, he would take me. That year seamed like a year in prison, I was marking off the days on a calendar in my apartment, counting down till I could get back to my life."

"So how long now have you been with Master?" Christine asked.

"A little over two years now, it's been great, and now it's going to be even better now that you are here." Jaguar beamed. "I knew from the moment I saw you that we would be great friends, I have an intuition about these things and my intuition is never wrong."

Christine tried to consider all this but her mind was too weary, she yawned involuntarily, she was more tired then she had ever remembered being in her life. "Here, lie back," Jaguar said, pushing her back down on the pillow, "you're tired, let me do all the work." With that, Jaguar began kissing Christine's neck, soft sensual kisses. At the same time her hand began stroking her arm. Christine had never considered herself to be bisexual, but she did feel a certain magnetism that emanated from Jaguar, besides she was exhausted and kisses and touch felt nice. 

Soon Jaguar's had her on fire with her teasing and enticing touch. Jaguar's fingers and lips and tongue played along her body, leaving her flesh tingling wherever they roamed. Jaguar took her time, exploring every inch or Christine's body. Watching the reaction as she floated her fingers along her stomach and thighs. When at long last she ran her tongue between Christine's legs and into her smoldering pussy, Christine arched her back and let out a scream as her body rocked with an explosive climax. Jaguar kept right on licking her and Christine squirmed and writhed until she lost count of the orgasms. Then Jaguar moved up beside her and they both drifted off into a very deep luxurious sleep.

The car finally pulled to a stop and a moment later the lid to the trunk was popped, flooding it with bright sunlight. Cheetah winced at the dazzling light, and even though her joints were a bit stiff from the long ride, she stepped right out of the trunk and stood proudly. She was very conscious about never showing weakness, especially in front of your opponent. 

Master came up to her and attached a leash to her collar. As he did this she looked around. Everywhere she looked, all eyes were on her, admiring her nude body. She didn't see her opponent. It was still early and the crowd was thin, but she saw a line of cars entering the parking lot. 'It should be a full house tonight, this is a big match.' She thought as she looked around. That pleased her, the bigger the crowd, the more the take would be at the door, half of which would go to her Master. That along with wagering on the outcome of the fights was how the owners made money on these events. Cheetah was certain that Master must have had a large wager on this match, based on his behavior. Something was different about him the last few days. He hid it well but by now she knew him well enough to tell that something was bothering him. Master began to lead her into a dressing room that had a separate entrance both from the outside and also to the inside, to the Arena. Tigress, Jaguar, Ruth and Corrine all followed behind. 

Once inside the dressing room, Master detached the leash and Corrine gave her a robe to put on. The room was typical for Arena dressing rooms, sparse with only a few chairs, a massage table and some first-aid equipment. Everyone, even Jaguar was quiet and tense. Cheetah sat in a chair and Corrine began massaging her neck and shoulders. 

Ruth pulled a chair over and sat facing Cheetah, giving her some last minute instructions. 

"What's the story with Ruth?" Christine asked Jaguar one day while they were exercising in the gym. Christine had been doing some bench presses and Jaguar was jogging on the treadmill. 

"She's been with Master for about 4 years now," Jaguar replied without breaking stride, "She used to be one of the top catfighters in her day, but then she blew out her knee in one of the matches. She was finished as a fighter but Master saw her potential as a coach and hired her to train his fighters."

"Is that why she's so mean? Because she can't fight anymore?"

Jaguar laughed, "I think she was born angry."

"What about the Ice Queen?" Christine asked.

Jaguar laughed so hard she had to jump off the treadmill. She shut it off and came over and sat on a bench next to Christine. "Oh she's not so bad. She just thinks that because she was Master's first girl, she should always have a higher ranking over the other girls. There is something that she does that used to really piss me off," she said as her eyes narrowed, "she has some pull with the scheduling and she always makes sure that she has a match coming up right after mine, that way even if I won, I would only get to spend a night or two with Master before she would win again and be back in the sack with him. I never thought it was fair, but there was nothing I could do about it. Anyway," she said, smiling again, "now that you're here, it doesn't matter that much anyway." She leaned down and kissed Christine, who was still lying on her bench. Christine returned the kiss. It amazed her, but it just seemed so natural for her to be affectionate with Jaguar. 

"I can't say Tigress has been mean to me," Christine said, "she's just so aloof, it's like I feel she's always looking down at me."

"Just wait till you have to share a bed with her next time I win," Jaguar laughed. "I'd love to be a fly on the wall that night."

Christine thought back, she had known plenty of girls like Tigress, tough on the outside but insecure on the inside. She tried to imagine how she would feel if she had been Master's first girl. Just the two of them at first, and then another and another. It must be similar to the way Mormon women felt in polygamist marriages. She was happy she was not cast in that role, she was the up and comer, the one who had nothing to lose. Not the one on top trying desperately not to lose her position. 

Jaguar left to do some laps in the pool and Christine went over to the heavy bag to practice some kicks. She was so concentrated on what she was doing that she never noticed as Master came up behind her. "Nice form." He said. Christine nearly jumped out of her skin, she had never been alone with Master and she was nervous and self-conscience. She stood at attention like a soldier. She didn't know if this was what she was supposed to do, but she didn't know what else to do. This seamed to amuse Master, he smiled while walking around her, as she stood frozen like a statue. "You seem to be taking well to your training." He said from behind her.

"Yes, I..." she said haltingly, without turning her head, "I'm getting into the routine." As soon as she said it she cringed, 'what a stupid thing to say,' she thought, 'he must think I'm a total idiot.'

Master kept circling her, appraising her, "I think you are sufficiently prepared to take the next step, what do you think?" 

'What next step?' she wondered, but she knew whatever it was, she had to agree. "Yes," she said with more confidence than she felt, "I'm ready."

"Excellent! I'll make some arrangements for later tonight." He said, and walked out of the room. 

Christine relaxed as soon as he left the room, then she began to wonder what was going to be in store for her, but then she considered that whatever it was, it couldn't be nearly as bad as some of the things Jaguar had been through with her previous owner. She couldn't imagine belonging to a cruel master. She did somewhat understand women who stayed with abusive husbands, that was different, find of. That usually involved children and trying to keep a family together. But then there were the women who seemed to seek out abusive men, they would go from one abusive relationship to another. She knew that kind of woman and she knew that she wasn't one of them. She would never voluntarily stay with anyone who mistreated her. Soon she was back to concentrating on her exercise routine and these thoughts faded away.

Three hours later, Christine had finished her gym routine, swam her laps, showered and was in her room dressing when Ruth came into her room. "Meet me in the Arena building in fifteen minutes." She said, and walked out.

'Well, this must be it.' Christine thought. She brushed her hair and put on some make-up and headed for the Arena. 

Ruth met her as she entered the building and led her to one of the dressing rooms. "Remove all your clothes." She said. Christine immediately began disrobing, placing her clothes on the massage table. "OK, there's nothing you have to do other than endure this, just protect yourself." Ruth then led her nude out of the dressing room and back into the Arena.

Master, Tigress and Jaguar were waiting for her at the center of the mat. Christine scanned their faces, Master seemed to be happy and upbeat, even though his face betrayed little of this, he was not one to show much emotion she had come to learn. Tigress was her usual imperious self. Jaguar, never one to be able to hide her feelings, was practically beaming. 

As soon as Christine was in the center of the mat, Tigress, Jaguar and Ruth took places forming a ring around her. Moments later Master gave the command "Begin" and the three women surrounding Christine began pummeling her. The blows were not hard or vicious but soon Christine had dropped to her knees and the women began kicking her. Soon she was lying on the mat, curled up in a ball. 

After what seemed like an eternity to Christine, but was in fact only about two minutes, Master announced "Enough!" and the beating ended. The ladies then backed away and Master stepped forward. "Kneel before me," he said. Christine scrambled to her knees and knelt facing him. Corrine, who had just entered the room, handed Master a leather collar, Master held the collar before Christine. "You have performed well in your training and I deem you worthy to join my pack. Once I place my collar on you, you will be my property, but you must make this decision willingly. If you accept, you are giving yourself over to me to do with you as I see fit, even if that means giving you away to another. If you choose to decline, you are free to go and must pack your things and leave this residence tonight. Do you accept or decline?"

Christine looked up into his eyes and swallow hard. This was the moment she had struggled for, leaving her husband, leaving the life she had known. Traveling to a strange place, training to be a fighter. The whole thing seemed surreal to her now. But there was no way she could turn back now. Even though she had only been with them for a brief time, she now felt like she was part of something. A family of sorts, a team. People who understood her as well if not better than she understood herself. She couldn't imagine leaving and going back to what? She didn't know her old life anymore. "I accept." She said.

Master fastened the collar to her and then bent down to kiss her. "From this point forward, you will no longer be Christine, you will be known as Cheetah."

He then lifted her to her feet and turned her around the face the other. "I present to you Cheetah!" The women, especially Jaguar began to clap and cheer, they all came up and hugged and kissed her. 

"Alright," Master said, "if you ladies would get ready, we're going to have a little celebration tonight."

Jaguar took Cheetah by the hand and pulled her to the dressing room as the others left. "I'm so proud of you, I'm so happy!" she gushed. "You're ok aren't you? We didn't hit you too hard."

"I'm fine, just a little sore, someone got in a few good kicks."

"Probably Tigress, but I'm sure she didn't mean to hurt you. Hurry and get dressed, we have to get ready for tonight."

When they arrived back at their room, Cheetah saw that an evening gown had been laid out for each of them. Hers was a white strapless silk gown that she absolutely loved. Cheetah showered again and then they each fixed their hair, put on their make-up and got dressed. Cheetah felt exhilarated, the doubts were gone, and she felt sure now that she had made the right decision. She wondered when her first real match would be. She hoped she would be ready.

When they had all finished their preparations, they made their way to the dining room. The room was illuminated by candlelight and bottles of champagne were on ice. Master entered the room dressed in a tux. He opened a bottle and poured a glass for each of them. "Here's to Cheetah, the swiftest cat in the jungle." He said, raising his glass, and they all toasted the newest member of their family. Corrine then proceeded to serve a sumptuous feast and they celebrated long into the night.

Over the next several weeks, Cheetah got the opportunity to watch both Tigress and Jaguar participate in a match. Each had very different styles and they each won their match handily. Cheetah realized that Ruth was training each of them to enhance their own particular strengths. Tigress relied on her power. She was more of a wrestler. Once she got a hold of her opponent, she was able to subdue her by shear strength. Jaguar was more of a kick boxer. She would dance around her opponent, continuously landing blows. Her own style, she realized, was a hybrid of both of these forms. She had Jaguar's speed and agility, and Tigress's strength and power.

Cheetah found the atmosphere of the matches to be electrifying. First there was the crowd. Mostly men, but also quite a few women. They were loud and raucous. They paid $100.00 per person to get in to watch three matches. Each match was three rounds, if it went that long. A bikini-clad referee controlled the matches, the fighters themselves were nude of course. Lots of wagering was going on and when the fighters were led to the center of the mat and giving the signal to begin, the place erupted with people cheering on their favorite. Cheetah had cheered both Jaguar and Tigress on to victory. 

As Jaguar had predicted, Tigress had her match only two days after Jaguar had her match, and as they had both been triumphant, Jaguar only had a couple nights with Master. During these nights, Cheetah got the opportunity to learn more about Tigress as she was now sharing a bed with her. Tigress came from a very wealthy but emotionally detached family. "I suppose I got into catfighting as a way of screaming out to my parents for attention." She said with a humorless laugh. "I first started going to the matches as a spectator, that's where I met Master, he was also a spectator, he was learning more about the ins and outs of the competitions." Tigress stared straight up at the ceiling while lying next to Cheetah in bed. "Then one day he approached me and asked me if I'd like to be a fighter, to be his fighter, I said 'no thanks', but only because I was caught off guard. We started dating and going to more and more matches, and when he asked again, I said 'yes'."

Cheetah then told Tigress about her past and what led to her getting into catfighting. Tigress looked at her with disbelief. "You left your husband?"

"Yeah," Cheetah responded reluctantly, "the marriage was a mistake, I wasn't ready, and I didn't know who I was."

"Do you think you know who you are now?"

Cheetah thought for a moment. "I'm not sure, but I do know that I'm more Cheetah than I ever was Christine." 

Tigress considered this for a moment, then Cheetah could tell that by the look on her face, that Tigress found that answer to be acceptable. Tigress placed her hand on Cheetah's and gave her the closest thing to a smile that she had yet to see cross her face. "We better get some sleep, tomorrow will be another long day." she said before rolling on her side facing away from Cheetah. 

Cheetah laid awake in bed for a long time. She missed having Jaguar in bed with her. She didn't love her, at least she didn't think she was in love with her. But she did find her to be fun and comforting, and sexy and exciting. Honestly she didn't know exactly how she did feel about her. Every night since the first, Cheetah and Jaguar had made love before going to sleep. Cheetah still didn't consider herself to be bi or lesbian. She didn't want to have sex with women, it was just Jaguar that she was attracted to, she just felt that Jaguar was special. Their lovemaking had been some of the most satisfying that Cheetah had every experienced in her life. Jaguar knew just where to touch her, where to kiss her, where to bite her and where to lick her in order to send her into volleys of mind shattering orgasms. Cheetah had also learned how to please Jaguar. She liked pleasing her. She loved the way Jaguar would screw her eyes shut and clench her teeth, as she would let out low guttural moans while she climaxed. Just thinking about those nights excited Cheetah. 




The Arena



She felt a pang of jealousy as she thought of Jaguar with Master. 'Does he please her better than I do?' she wondered. She also wondered what it would be like when it was her turn to spend the night with Master. She found him to be extremely desirable. His confident manner, his piercing eyes that looked right through you, the deep refined tone of his voice. She didn't know how a woman could not be attracted to him. But still, she knew she would be expected to have sex with him. She wondered if he would just jump on top of her and start humping away. That didn't seem to be his style, but who knows what goes on behind closed doors?

A couple days later, Cheetah truly learned what it meant to be on Ruth's bad side. Ruth had stepped up her training, exercising her to the point of near exhaustion. At one point Ruth was holding the heavy bag and was having Cheetah do hundreds of roundhouse kicks with each leg. Cheetah was becoming both fatigued and dizzy from the constant exertion. On one kick, Cheetah lost concentration and the kick accidentally landed on Ruth's hand breaking her little finger. Ruth screamed and swore at Cheetah and then backhanded her across the face. Cheetah knew she dared not retaliate, so she just stood there and took it. Ruth then grabbed a magic marker and wrote 'STUPID BITCH' on Cheetah's forehead and told her she was finished with her worthless ass for the rest of the day. 

Cheetah ran crying to her room. When she arrived, Jaguar was there and asked her what had happened. Between sobs, Cheetah explained the incident. "That was mean, she had no reason to treat you like that!" Jaguar said. Cheetah laid face down on the bed and cried into her pillow. Jaguar went to the bathroom and came back with a washcloth and some cold cream. She sat next to Cheetah and turned her over and tried to clean off the marker as best as she could. "There, that's not so bad," she said, appraising her work, "a little makeup will hide the rest." She caressed Cheetah's head and wiped away the tears that were still streaming down her face. "Don't cry, Ruth is just an ass." She began rocking Cheetah who was still crying uncontrollably. Jaguar lifted her top, exposing her breast, "here," she said, and placed her nipple in Cheetah's mouth. Cheetah immediately began to suckle and before long the sobs stopped and she was soon calming down. Jaguar continued to rock her, stroking her hair. "There, that's better, I'll take care of you sweetheart."

The following day, Ruth informed Cheetah that her first match would be in one week. Cheetah was happy to see that Ruth showed no signs of holding a grudge. Apparently yesterday's incident was history, with just some faint letters hidden behind makeup on Cheetah's forehead and a bandaged splint on Ruth's finger left as a reminder. Ruth told her that this would also be her opponent's first fight. Cheetah felt comforted by that. She was pretty certain that the other girls did not have nearly as rigorous a training and exercise program as Master put his girls through. Still, she was terribly nervous. She had never been nude in a public place or before a crowd, much less fighting another girl. Ruth also told her that they would be hosting the match, so she would not have to travel. This was a definite advantage.

As the days counted down to her first match, Cheetah became more and more nervous. She was happy that Jaguar was once again sharing her bed. They would cuddle at night and Jaguar would reassure her. "You'll be great," Jaguar said excitedly, "when you face her before the match starts, just stare her down. Just look at her like you're totally in control and have absolutely no fear."

Cheetah had been lying on her back, she now rolled on her side to face Jaguar, she looked into her eyes, their faces just inches apart. "But what if I am afraid?" Cheetah asked softly.

"Don't think about it," she said as she brushed a few locks of Cheetah's hair off of her face, "Just visualize the outcome, think about how you are going to defeat her." Jaguar tried to remember how she felt just before her first real match but her recollection of those times was very fragmented. She was sure she had been stoned on drugs. She did remember that she had lost the match and that Reno had beaten her afterwards, but beyond that, it was all a blur.

"Do you think Master will bet money on me winning?" 

Jaguar smiled, "if he's smart he will," and she gave Cheetah a kiss on the lips. "If I had money, I'd bet on you."

"Yeah, but you won't beat me if I lose."

"You're not going to lose, but even if you did, Master would not beat you. He's not like that."

"Have you lost many matches?" Cheetah asked.

Jaguar's face became more contemplative. "A few, not many. The training and conditioning we get is a lot better than most of the other girls get. Still, every once in a while you run into a girl who does something unexpected or you just get outmaneuvered. I learn from it and Ruth learns from it, and we get better." Jaguar sat up, "now show me your fiercest look, you know, 'eye of the tiger'." Cheetah sat up and faced her, trying to look mean. "No, no, not eye of the bunny rabbit!" Cheetah burst out laughing. "Now it's eye of the baboon!" Jaguar squealed. Cheetah fell on her side laughing hysterically. Jaguar jumped on top of her, doing her best 'Ruth' voice, she said, "You must concentrate, this is serious."

Cheetah giggled, "Yeah, well you must kiss my ass."

"I thought you'd never ask." Jaguar smiled and kissed her. 

Cheetah looked up into Jaguars eyes. She had never met anyone like her. 'Maybe it's this bizarre lifestyle or something' she thought while trying to sort out her feelings for Jaguar. Then she thought that maybe she should just stop analyzing things so much and go with her feelings.

Jaguar noticed the change in her mood. "Whatcha thinking?" she asked. Still lying on top of Cheetah. 

Cheetah lifted her head and pressed her lips to Jaguars, the first kiss she had initiated. Jaguar returned the kiss and the two were soon engaged in passionate lovemaking.

The day of Cheetah's first match finally arrived. Everyone was in a flurry of activity, getting the place ready to host the event. Cheetah's match was to be the first of the night. 'They probably get the newbies out of the way first before the main event.' Cheetah thought. She paced around the mansion while the others scurried around filling their assigned duties. 'They should have given me something to do to at least keep my mind occupied.' 

Cheetah went to an upstairs window that overlooked the arena parking area. Some early birds were already arriving. She saws Tigress at the entrance to the arena collecting admission. Then a large car pulled up next to the area where the dressing rooms were located. She saw Jaguar run up and greet the driver as he opened his trunk and a nude fighter stepped out. She wondered if this was her opponent. She only got a brief look before Jaguar let them into one of the dressing rooms. The man was big and portly, wearing a cowboy hat. The girl looked small and slight next to him, but from this distance Cheetah could not tell much else. 

A few minutes later Cheetah heard someone scrambling up the steps. "Did you see her?" Jaguar said excitedly as she ran up to Cheetah. "That's your opponent, she's scared shitless, I could see it in her eyes."

"I saw her but from this distance I couldn't tell much." Cheetah replied.

"I have to get back, but I wanted to tell you, she's a train wreck. You're going to kick her ass!" Jaguar gave her a quick hug and then scrambled back down the stairs. Cheetah smiled and shook her head. No matter what, Jaguar always had a way of cheering her up. She turned again to the window and watched the people coming in. 

When it was time, Ruth came and got Cheetah and led her to their dressing room. Cheetah was expecting the others, at least some of them to be there, but the room was empty. Cheetah removed all her clothes and put a robe on. Ruth began tying Cheetah's hair into a tight bun. "One thing to remember," she said as she worked, "you can't be afraid to hit her, if you see an opening, you can't hesitate." Ruth came around to face her. "Believe me, if she sees an opportunity to hurt you, she'll take it. You have to be ruthless, don't give her a chance." Cheetah just nodded. Ruth started to put the mitts on her hands and tie them in place. "The referee will give you both instructions and she will control the action. Just go all out, if the ref tells you to stop, comply immediately." 

Master then entered the room. "Show time." He said. He took a hold of Cheetah's shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Make me proud." 

She looked up at him and smiled. "I will Master."

A light over the door leading to the arena began blinking. Ruth moved behind Cheetah and pulled the robe off of her. Master picked up a leash and attached it to a ring on Cheetah's collar and led her into the arena. 

Cheetah studied her opponent as she was being led to the center of the ring. The crowd was hollering and whistling but all the commotion faded into the background as she concentrated on the nude woman being led toward her. Cheetah thought she looked to be maybe 20 years old, about 5'4, thin and wiry with mousy brown hair and a rather plain face. A woman wearing a black and white striped bikini was in the center of the mat waiting for them. Cheetah knew from seeing previous matches that this was the referee. 

The referee looked to Cheetah to be older, maybe a former fighter, still in good shape but definitely past her prime. When they reached the center of the mat, Master unhooked the leash from her collar and moved off to the side. The referee looked at each of the contestants. "This will be a three round match. There will be no biting, no head butting, no kicking or kneeing to the head of a grounded opponent or throat strikes of any kind." She said. "If I instruct you to break, you will go immediately to the corner that I indicate. Wins are by physical or verbal tap-out, technical knock out or judges' decision. When the bell strikes, come out fighting."

Cheetah went to the corner where Ruth was waiting for her. "This is it," Ruth said, "Just follow your training." Cheetah looked at her and nodded her head. She still felt nervous but exhilaration was taking over, she was about to actually do it, to fight another woman in front of a cheering audience. She looked to where Master, Jaguar and Tigress were seated. Master and Tigress looked rather impassive but Jaguar was smiling broadly and gave her a thumbs-up when their eyes met. She gave Jaguar a smile and the bell rang. 

The crowd roared as Cheetah turned and headed toward the center of the mat. When they were within arms length of each other, they started circling slowly counterclockwise. Cheetah's eyes dropped momentarily to the other woman's breasts, which were swaying as she moved. In an instant, she saw her drop down and spin performing a sweeping leg kick, which knocked Cheetah's legs out from under her. In a flash the other woman was on top of her, with her hands on throat, choking her. As she was trained, Cheetah violently swung her arms together, striking the other woman at her elbow joints. This broke the chokehold and Cheetah bucked her hips knocking her to the side and quickly scrambled to her feet. 

They began circling again and Cheetah thought it was time to go on the offensive. She took a quick jab that connected solidly with her opponents' cheek. The crowd cheered as the woman staggered back a step and then gathered herself and started circling again. Cheetah decided to try a combination landed a left to the mid section followed by an uppercut to the jaw. Both landed and Cheetah could tell the woman was dazed. Without even thinking about it, Cheetah launched into a roundhouse kick, this was something Ruth had drilled into her and it felt as natural as breathing. The heel of her foot caught the other woman squarely on the bridge of the nose and she shrieked and went down as blood began to flow out of her nose. As soon as she was down, she slapped the mat and screamed "OUT!" ending the match. She then rolled onto her stomach holding her face and began sobbing. 

The crowd erupted with cheers and the referee came over and lifted Cheetah's hand, "Winner by submission, Cheetah!" the ref yelled out. Cheetah lifted her other hand and smiled at the crowd, turning to face each section. In light of the events, Cheetah didn't think it was appropriate to mount her opponents face, she turned to see her still quivering, face down on the mat, she thought briefly that this may be her first and last match. Instead she just went back to her corner where Jaguar hugged and congratulated her. Master also congratulated her and gave her a hug. The hug she got from Tigress was strictly perfunctory. 

Ruth did not even give her a pretend hug. "What the hell were you thinking, letting her get that leg kick in?" Ruth growled. 

"That's enough for now Ruth," Master interrupted, "there will be plenty of time to evaluate Cheetah's victory later." Ruth scowled but held her tongue.

"I think she was brilliant." Jaguar Squealed. "Less than 2 minutes to win her first match, that was amazing."

"I took quite a few wagers betting that she would win in the first round, this will be a nice little payday." Master smiled as he led them back to the dressing room. 

Cheetah thought again of the other girl, she was sure she had broken her nose. She felt a bit guilty about it, but just a bit. 'She's an adult and she knew what she was getting into.' She thought. These thoughts were quickly replaced with thoughts about spending the night with Master. She looked over to Tigress as Ruth was removing her mitts. Tigress did not meet her gaze, staring off into the distance. 'She's jealous.' Cheetah thought, 'well, nothing I can do about that, she'll just have to deal with it.'


Later that night, Jaguar and Tigress primped Cheetah for her night with Master. She was clothed in a shear red bustier set complete with garter and stockings. When they were done she got up to look at herself in the full-length mirror and she had to admit that she looked hot. She turned to Jaguar and gave her a hug. "Wish me luck." She said.

Jaguar hugged her back and smiled. "You'll be fine, just have fun and enjoy yourself."

Cheetah walked down the long hall to Master's room and knocked on the door. She heard Master say "Enter." Opening the door, she stepped in, she had never been in this room before and she took it in. It was large with very ornate furniture. There was a wet bar to one side of the room and a large four-post canopy bed in the middle, where Master lie reading a book. He was wearing black silk pajamas. He placed a bookmark and set the book on the nightstand. "Please, make your self comfortable" he said, patting the bed, "would you like a drink?"

Cheetah walked over to the bed and sat on the edge. "I'd like a glass of white wine, if you have any."

Master got up and went to the small refrigerator under the bar. "I have an excellent Riesling." He said, setting two wine glasses on the bar and uncorking the bottle. 

"Sounds good." Cheetah replied. She looked at the book on the nightstand, the title of the book he was reading was Ring by Koji Suzuki. She had never heard of him or the book. Master retuned and handed her a glass. She took and sipped the wine, she found that she liked the flavor and took another sip. 

"You did quite well today," Master said, taking his place back on the bed, "how did you like your first match?"

Cheetah cocked her head, "It was not exactly what I expected, but I enjoyed it. I wasn't expecting it to be over so quickly."

"Well, don't count on all your matches going that well, the girls you'll be facing will be better and better." Cheetah took a gulp of her wine. Master looked at her and grinned, "there's no reason to be nervous, here, allow me." He said, taking her wine glass and setting it along with his on the nightstand. He then gently took her shoulders and pushed her down on the bed till she was lying on her back. She smelled a hint of his fragrant cologne as he leaned over her and lightly ran his hand down the front of her bustier. Her skin tingled everywhere his fingers brushed as they traveled over her hip and down her left leg. He then traced his fingers up her right leg, over her thigh and finally up the center of the bustier. When he reached the top of the bustier, he undid the top button and pulled down a bit of the material. He bent down and kissed the newly exposed flesh. He then kissed the side of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. He looked deep into her eyes and then kissed her on the lips. She tasted the wine on his lips and savored it.

Ever so slowly, Master unbuttoned her bustier, one at a time, each time kissing the part of her body the material revealed. Cheetah arched her back and mentally urged him on. When the last button was undone, he gently lifted her up and removed the garment. Laying her back down he slowly started to peal her panties off of her. He kissed her upper thigh and brushed his lips all the way down her leg as he slid the silky material off. When he had finished removing her panties, she laid there in just her stockings and garter. 

Cheetah felt her desire stir like never before. She desperately wanted him to bring his lips to her rock hard nipples or to stroke her throbbing clit, but he carefully avoided these areas. Instead he explored every other part of her yearning body. A soft moan escaped her lips as he lightly brushed his hand over her right nipple. He brought his lips to hers for another long kiss before lowering his head and taking her nipple in his mouth. At the same time his hand trailed down to her smoldering pussy and began to stroke its moist folds. She bit her lip as he began to rub her clit in a circular motion. Soon she felt her passion rising and she clenched the sheets of the bed with both fists and shuddered though an ecstatic climax. 

Cheetah watched as Master then sat up and removed his clothes. She spread her legs as he moved on top of her and kissed her once again. She was more than ready when he finally entered her. She wrapped her legs around his hips and matched his thrusts. Before long she felt her pleasure mounting again and they climaxed together. Before uncoupling, Master rolled so they were both on their sides facing each other. They gave each other tender kisses over and over before drifting off into sleep.

The next few months were the happiest Cheetah remembered ever having. She felt a belonging that she had never previously experienced in her life. She also felt stronger and healthier than she had ever felt before. She won most of her matches and enjoyed the nights with Master, but she felt herself falling more and more in love with Jaguar. She didn't mind at all when Master spent several days away working out some disagreements over an upcoming match. She had overheard some heated phone conversations he had had recently regarding the match, and he had now gone off to try and settle the controversy, whatever it was about. While he was gone, Tigress would sleep in Master's room and Cheetah would still have Jaguar all to herself. 

"Who do you think is the best fighter among the three of us here?" Cheetah asked Jaguar one day while they were taking a break from swimming laps.

"I know I could kick your scrawny ass." Jaguar replied and dunked her briefly under the water. Cheetah splashed some water at her and lunged for her as soon as she surfaced. They play wrestled for a while but soon began kissing. "I bet I can hold my breath longer than you can." Jaguar said in a challenging tone.

"Bet!" Cheetah replied and they both took deep breaths and held them. Soon she felt Jaguars hand slip into her bikini bottom and a finger slipped into her pussy. She pushed the hand away but it was too late as she gasped for air. "Cheat!" she cried out.




The Arena



This story contains some of the same characters from the story Pancakes. It could be said to be a "The Continuing Adventures of...."

Carl: A many centuries old Paladin. Like all Paladins he has only limited magical ability. His main powers are derived from his ability with weapons, both magical and conventional, ability to heal quickly, his ability as a tactician and his years of experience.

Aradia: A relatively young witch who is near the end her apprentice ship under a powerful witch named Miranda.

Father Marcus: Father Marcus Van Helsing is a Vampire Hunter as well as a Priest. He is a descendent of the Van Helsing family of vampire hunters and he also has a passion for Dallas Cowboys Football.

Satan: The Devil. For the purposes of our story the evil one has no power to act directly on earth but commits his evil acts through his followers.

Vlad: Count Dracula. Lord of the vampires and challenger to Satan's throne.

Anton: Young wizard and Aradia's ex-boyfriend.

Countess Báthory: Evil Sorceress 

There is no sex in this story.

********************************

Carl had taken advantage of a naturally occurring storm to go out to a remote area to practice his lightning skills without attracting too much attention. In the old days he could have just gone out regardless of the weather and practiced but now with modern technology's ability to detect lightning strikes a lot of lightning occurring during a clear day would attract too much notice. He figured since he got a handle on the accuracy thing he needed to work on intensity and generating lightning indoors without blowing a hole in the roof or killing himself in the process.

The storm had blown through providing some much needed rain. The downside was it meant that Carl was going to have to mow the grass by the end of the week or the HOA would be having a fit. Through the centuries he had come up against evil in many forms but he felt a Home Owners Association was one of its worse incarnations. There was something about an HOA that seemed un-American. It was not that he was afraid of the HOA but as he needed to be fairly inconspicuous so he did not want to rattle their cage by appearing to be a troublemaker. 

He was giving some thought to hiring a lawn and garden service since many of his trips were taking more time and he was not around to take care of the lawn but he was uncomfortable with having strangers poking around the place. The idea of the average human spending so much time in a relatively short life pulling weeds and cutting grass seemed to him to be a modern plague. Perhaps it was more like Sisyphus of Greek mythology. Sisyphus was condemned for eternity to push a large rock up a hill. Once he got it almost to the top it would roll back down and he had to start all over again. There were those in his neighborhood who spent every weekend pulling weeds and cutting grass only to repeat the process all over again the next weekend. He had considered moving to an apartment or condo but that would not provide the privacy he desired.

The sun was out for the drive back to his place but the streets were still wet and the humidity was making the air feel sticky so he had the AC going on full in the truck. Turning down his street he returned the waves of a couple of neighbors. When he got to his house there was jeep parked out front that he recognized as belonging to Aradia. As he got closer he saw her sitting on the hood waiting for him. 

Aradia stood all of 5' 6" had a thin athletic build. Her hair color this time looked to be a reddish blonde. She changed it often so he did not know what her real hair color was and never really bothered to keep track. She was dressed in cargo shorts, t-shirt and running shoes and shoulder bag was beside her on the hood of the jeep. Instead of her normal wire rim glasses she had some stylish non Rx sunglasses, must be wearing her contacts he thought.

He pulled into his driveway wondering what this was about. He rarely had visitors except Father Marcus for an occasional Monday night Football game or a planning session if they were going on a mission together. 

Carl was getting out of his truck as Aradia hopped off the hood of her Jeep and greeted him with bright smiley "Hey Sir Galahad".. He returned her smile and responded with a polite "Hello" an asked more cautiously "To what do I owe the honor of this visit."

"I understand you are taking a trip soon."

"I might be but perhaps we should discuss this inside" Carl said as he looked around to see if anyone was listening.

He lead the way to the front door checking to make sure none of his security measure had been tripped. His home was well protected by both "magic" charms, symbols and talismans a well as the latest in technology. The home itself sat on a large hexagram that extended out to his property line. In was blended in with landscaping so as not to be easily seen from the street or above. Each door had a powerful Mezuzah while each window had a amulet and crucifix above it to provide protection. He then held the door open for Aradia and followed her inside.

The house was cold, Carl liked his AC, electric bills be damned. Aradia looked around Carl's House as he escorted her toward the kitchen. It was a typical bachelor's pad except cleaner. The living room was dominated by a TV around which the furniture was arranged. There were no plants or sign of pets. There were no pictures on the walls but lots of old maps in frames and a couple of paintings. It turned out Carl's hobby was collecting maps and he favored old maps. Many for those he had were originals as old as he was. He was a fan of that art of cartography. He felt that a well made map was as good as well written book or a good painting. Technology was rending that talent obsolete, a fact that saddened Carl but he was no Luddite and accepted it.

She saw two paintings on his walls of some old battles she was unfamiliar with. If she was more up on her history and art she would have recognized one as a copy of Henry McArdle's "Dawn at the Alamo" the other a copy of Gibb's The Thin Red line. 

The kitchen was relatively Spartan with appliances either basic white or stainless steel in color. The floor was a white and gold tile. There was no art work to speak of. There was a small table with 4 chairs around it. In the center of the table were a prepackaged salt and pepper shaker and bottle of Tabasco sauce.

"Have a seat "Carl gestured toward the table as he walked toward the refrigerator. "Would you like something to drink?"

"What do you have?" she replied taking a seat. As he opened the refrigerator she saw a Hooters calendar and a magnetic sticker with the number of a local pizza place on the door. He is a typical guy after all she thought; a 600 or 700 year old Paladin but a guy none the less.

"Beer, coke, water and V-8"

"Diet coke?"

He just stared at her

"Lite Beer?"

He continued to stare then said "You'll have a beer" and he took out two Ziegenbachs. 

He took a seat across from her. "Let us see if I figured this out. Marcus told you I was going on a mission and you want to go along, correct?"

"Yes, I figure you and I have never worked together and I could use the experience. He even suggested it would be a good idea."

"Did Marcus happen to mention I was going to a Haiti? It is hardly a place for rookies."

"He did, but I am no rookie. I have been doing this for 5 years. Granted it is not equal to your centuries but I have experience. I was even with Father Marcus when we took out one of Vlad's main covens in Detroit last year. Father Marcus would not have suggested this if he did not think I could handle it."

"Well I see Marcus coached you well in your responses. Do you know what you are going up against?"

"No, and as I understand it neither do you."

"Well you got me there" He looked at her for a few seconds. His face was unreadable but for a fire in his eyes. She just sat there with a bemused smile on her face. "I need to make a phone call. Help yourself to food or another drink." He then got up and left the room.

While she could not hear what he was saying she definitely heard him raise his voice to whomever he was talking too. She figured Father Marcus was getting a butt chewing. Aradia got up and looked into his refrigerator. In it were two packs of microwave bacon, about 4 eggs, left over pizza, bottles of ketchup, mustard and steak sauce the beer, water, cokes and V-8. Surprisingly there was a premade salad, some oranges and a bag of cherries. She opened the freezer and found a half gallon of Cherry vanilla ice cream and a frozen lasagna dinner. On top of the refrigerator was a bag of chips and some dried beef sticks. She grabbed a couple of beef sticks went back to await Carl's return. She thought to herself "he is such a guy."

When he got out of the kitchen Carl used his cell phone to call Marcus.

"Hello"

"What in the hell is wrong with you!?"

"Hey watch the language; you are talking to a priest. I take it Aradia had paid you a visit"

"Don't give me that priest stuff I ought to give you good butt kicking. She is still here. What could you possibly have been thinking by suggesting that young kid come with me to Haiti?"

"Everybody is a young kid compared to you so settle down and listen. First, you are going to Haiti and that is not something anybody should do alone; even you. Second, I can't go with you right now as my shoulder still healing from last month. Nobody else wants to go to that hell hole so that leaves Aradia. Third, she is a darn good witch and I think she is ready for someplace like Haiti. She performed well in Detroit. Granted she is not as experienced or powerful as some but she has a good head on her shoulders and all she needs is some seasoning. Right now I can't think of anybody better for her to go to Haiti with and get that seasoning, can you?"

Carl was still mad but he had calmed down some realizing the Padre had some good points. "When did priests start overseeing the training of witches?"

"I am not overseeing her training but her mentor, Miranda, is going to be gone for a couple of months and she asked me to look after her."

"And what did Miranda say about you sending her pupil off to Haiti with me?"

"She laughed, she said that there was no way you would take Aradia or anybody else along, you are too much a loner. But she has no objection to her going to Haiti with you, she thinks she is ready"

Miranda was a respected and powerful witch, probably the most powerful in North America. Carl had worked with her in the past but she had stopped going on missions and devoted herself to training other witches and the occasional wizard.

Carl sighed "OK, I don't leave till next Friday so I will check her out and decides if she goes. If I don't think she can pull her weight she stays back. "

"Fair enough but if she does go I win $10 dollar off of Miranda."

"Good then you can start paying me back all the money you owe for the Dallas games."

Marcus started yelling about Satan messing with "God's Team so Carl gave him a quick goodbye and went back to the kitchen. Aradia was sitting on the table chewing on a beef stick. She looked up smirking "Well?"

Carl got two more beers for them and sat down across from her. "Here is the way it is going to work. 

One. I don't leave till next Friday so that gives me six days to see if you are going along and if so to get you properly equipped. If I decide you don't go you don't go.

Two. Get over any sensitivity you might have. I am told I tend to be blunt and while in battle I cannot afford to worry about hurting your feelings.

Three. I do not run my missions by committee. What I say goes. I will listen to any suggestions you may have but once the fight is on the time for debate is over. When I tell you to do something you do it and you might stay alive. " 

Remembering a Charlton Heston movie he added "I have only three commands. When I signal you to come, you come. When I signal you to charge, you charge. And when I signal you to run - you follow me and run like hell. Agreed?"

Aradia smiled and said "Agreed, what do we do first?"

"First at 5am tomorrow you show up here in whatever you exercise in and a good pair of running shoes so I can get a measure of what type of shape you are in. Also bring whatever magical implements you would normally take on a mission with you along with any other gear to include clothing."

Aradia looked down at her beer bottle "Well that sort of bring up a problem I would hope you can help me with."

Oh, Oh Carl thought "Would this problem have anything to do with all that stuff packed into your Jeep?"

"You noticed that?"

"I try to notice everything. Stay alert stay alive as they say. So instead of beating around the bush just tell me what this problem is."

She blushed a little still looking at her beer bottle. "Anton and I have split up. He said he needed some space and that he needed to devote more time to develop his skills. Anyway I am looking for a place to stay" 

She was starting to tear up and Carl started to feel a high level of discomfort with this. He had trouble dealing with other people's personal problems. Give him a battle any day but a crying female was out of his comfort zone. Carl's people skills were not exactly he best in the world but even he could see where this was heading.

"Any luck?" He asked. 

She just shook her head "There is an apartment opening in a month but I need some place to stay till then."

"What about your mentor Miranda or your friend Rebecca."

"Miranda has a strict no student s living with her rule and Rebecca is dealing with her own relationship problems" She looked at him with tear filled eyes. He could not tell if they were real or merely a ploy to gain sympathy.

"Father Marcus was not able to help you out? I know the school has some on campus apartments for faculty."

She shook her head "You know despite our being on the same side the Church is still not comfortable with an alliance with witches, wizards and such. Father Marcus felt it would be pushing things to have me living there with Nuns and Priests."

"So Marcus knew about your need for living space when he sent you over here?"

She merely nodded, not looking him in the eyes.

Carl made a mental note to himself- give severe beating to a football watching Priest. "OK I see where this is going, I am being played and I am going to regret this but how long do you figure you need a place to stay?"

Aradia instantly perked up. "No more than a month I. You will hardly know that I am here, I promise."

"I bet" He said shaking his head. What about Anton? I am not going to have to deal with domestic drama or a jealous wizard ex-boyfriend am I?"

"No, it was mutually agreed upon breakup. I will confess to hurting some but he should not be a problem. Besides this could be fun. It will be a chance to see what the Báthory bitch fines so attractive about you" she smirked.

Carl frowned at that remembering back when he had rejected Báthory's advancements at the pancake house. She totally lost it and he thought they were going to call the police. With all the shouting and threats it has all the earmark of being on an episode of Cops. Fortunately she just stormed off after unloading her bike off his truck. Nobody saw her for a month but the bodies of four men were found castrated and drained of all blood and it was attributed to her. Carl had some concern that she would, but also hoped, she would try to take her anger out on him directly. It would have presented an opportunity to put her down but it never happened. She showed up at the pancake house a month later acting like nothing ever happened.

"Never mind about her, before we unload your stuff there are going to be some ground rules, my place my rules. If you must listen to rap, hip hop or whatever they call it use headphones or ear buds. I do not want to hear it. You clean up after yourself. My den and bedroom are off limits unless I invite you in. Same applies to me and your bedroom. We respect each other's privacy. You can set up your witching stuff in the garage. I do not want you stinking up the house with your potion making in the kitchen. I have a camp stove you can set up so you can use your cauldron. No parties. You can have overnight guests but please show some discretion. You can eat what I eat or you buy your own food but do not think about changing my diet."

Father Marcus had warned her he would be liked this and she merely smiled and nodded in acceptance of the rules. 

Carl had a bit of inspiration and he asked "Can you use a lawnmower?"

They got her stuff unloaded and she settled into the spare bedroom. He sent out for some Vietnamese food and they inventoried her battle gear as he called it. "No need to wait till tomorrow since you are already here."

"Is this cloak magical or is it just a regular cloak" He asked?

"Just a regular cloak."

He tossed into a corner. "It stays behind; a cloak will get hung up on something or can be used against you in close combat." Her jeans and athletic shoes ended in the same pile both inadequate he said. Even her underclothing, rather embarrassingly, failed to pass muster. 

Fortunately all her magical items passed.

Then he stated. "Before I forget; no weird piecing, no visible tattoos and no unnatural hair colors. I know there are certain tattoos that you can wear as part of your craft but you can hide them under normal circumstances"

"Are you going to tell me I cannot dye my hair whatever color I want?"

"No, you are free to dye you hair blue, green or whatever, you can pierce your cheeks and eyebrows or get a tattoo on your forehead. What I am telling you is that you cannot do those things and work with me. Not only do those things attract too much attention they are unprofessional. I am surprised Miranda did not cover those things with you."

"She did but they seemed kind of silly and old fashioned. You would be judging me by my appearance not my ability and you know that is wrong. With respect, you are from a different generation. We are merely expressing our individuality "

"Nonsense. How individual is it when all of you have those tribal armband tattoos or tags above your butt? How about when everybody has their nose or belly button pierced? These are not expressions of individuality but fads. It is s not about individuality but fitting in with the so called cool crowd or with a peer group. What I am asking of you is no different than what many private companies expect of their employees while on the clock. They can wear their piercings and expose their tattoos all they want while off the clock but while representing the company they must conform to standards of appearance and conduct.

It is even more important in our line of work were a reputation is very important if you expect to be taken seriously. In this business you have to look as well as act professional. Take Miranda. She is a great and powerful witch who is respected by most all who know her, on both sides. Let me know when she starts dying her hair purple and piercing her nose. You are a young witch but once you get to the level Miranda has obtained you can tattoo your forehead and then it will be just dismissed as eccentric.

Until then just as you went to Miranda to receive training in your magical skills you came to me for battle experience and training. Those are my standards of conduct. You can either do what I tell you or you can stay behind. You did agree do as I say." He stopped for moment and then continued "You are of course still welcome to stay here till you find another place to live but we will not be working together."

Aradia was put back by what was obviously a scolding. Only Miranda had ever dared dress her down like that and that was a couple of years ago. Recovering from her shock she quickly moved to make amends, after all she need the experience he could provide. "You are right I agreed and will follow your rules, accept my apology."




The Arena



Just then the door bell rang. "That should be our food we can eat while we make up a shopping list."

What shopping list?" she asked but he had left for to get their food.

They began eating what she considered some extremely spicy Vietnamese food. Carl explained to her the real Vietnamese food was spicy. They made a shopping list. Carl considered her clothing completely inadequate plus she had no firearms.

"Why do I need a gun when I have magic?"

"How fast can you cast spells? How many opponents can you deal with at one time? How many bullets can your charms stop? What about werewolves, your magic will protect you but how would you kill one? With that silver dagger of yours? Do want to have to get that close?" His questions were asked calmly and without condescension. They were intended to make her think not to insult. 

He continued. "Look there is probably no finer instructor in the use of witchcraft than Miranda, but all her instruction is classroom based. Yes, she passes on her field experience but that is different from practical application. I am guessing on your missions with Father Marcus you have not found yourself greatly outnumbered and or facing a bunch of gunmen. In Haiti we could find ourselves facing a couple of dozen hoodlums shooting at us, a pack of werewolves or a Prince of Satan. I almost always find myself outnumbered. Don't reject technology to even the odds."

She thought about what he said all the time watching his face. His expression was neutral but his eyes came alive when he spoke of what was obviously a subject near and dear to his heart, combat. She wondered if he had any similar feelings toward people.

Their list completed and the kitchens cleaned up from their meal Carl lead her into the den. Like the rest of the house it was relatively Spartan. On the walls were maps of the world 1845 and earlier along with one painting of some medieval battle titled Hastings and handed her a book. "Study this; you need to learn all you can about Voodoo. Also use the internet." He said pointing at his computer. When you are thoroughly confused let me know maybe I can answer your questions or we can find somebody who can. Here is the password to log on to the computer use your own to get into our server database." He scribbled the password on to a post it for her. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen and don't to forget to be ready at 5 tomorrow morning. Not up at 5 am but ready to go then."

He then retired to the living room with a beer and to read a book. He turned on the TV to supply some background noise. Right now he was reading on 1491 by Mann. After about two hours Aradia joined him the living room taking a seat on the couch across from him. She had pulled her hair back in a pony tail. She had removed her contacts and was wearing her reading glasses. Her green eyes were almost glazed over and with a very confused looked she simply asked "What the hell?"

Carl simply laughed and said "Yes, I know. I don't think any two people can really come up with the same explanation. It was of the reasons I hate going there." He placed his book on the coffee table and shifted the recliner he was sitting in into the upright position.

"Let me give you my take on it. Haitian Voodoo is probably confusing even to its practitioners. Things are not necessarily good and evil as much as they are cool and hot. According to their beliefs there is one supreme god who cannot bothered to deal with humans and their problems and also a bunch of lesser gods who can be used for both good or evil depending on your point of view at the time. Some are friendly to serpents and even werewolves. A lot of it deals with these lesser gods possessing humans. Despite your confusion do not sell it short. I have seen powers that revival our so called conventional beliefs."

"So how do you tell the good from the evil?" she asked

"Unfortunately my best measure for determining who is on which side is their reaction to me. Paladin's tended to bring out the worse in evil while "good" could have a positive or neutral reaction. In short if they attacked me they are bad. I know that does not help you much but I have even gone to Miranda to see if there is a some type of charm or amulet that might help at identifying the good and bad before the bad went for my throat. She said that the practice is such a mixed combination of beliefs that it was impossible, at least for her, to create one that was reliable. You just keep plugging away at that book as if you are going with me because any information you gain might prove useful. In fact take that view with all information you acquire. It might not prove useful to you but it might be to somebody you can pass it onto."

Looking at his watch. "It is getting late so I am going to hit the sack, remember 5 am." He got up patted her on the head and went to his room.

She sat back and wondered "What have I got myself into." Then she to retired to her bedroom.

Five am came early as it always does when she joined him the kitchen. "Good your punctual, always a good characteristic." He greeted her. "Here take this and he handed her a camelback, you are going to need it."

They drove out to a remote undeveloped area arriving just as the sun just breaking over the horizon. They got out of his truck and he handed her a GPS unit. "You may need this, if we get separated and you get lost just hit the go to function for home and it follow the directions it back here. Worse comes to worse call me on your cell phone." Aradia took the GPS unit and stuck in a pocket on her camel back with her cell phone. 

At first she did not think she would have much trouble with Carl's physical fitness test after all she had run track and played volleyball in high school but this was not shaping up well.

"I don't know what experience you have with trail running but it is harder than running on a track or paved road. It is difficult to establish a steady pace because of rocks, stumps and other obstacles on the path along with greater variations in terrain. You have to figure on adding about 10% to your regular run time, at a minimum. You can try to stay up with me or if you think I am too slow you can pass me. There are two forks in the trail. Keep taking the left one. When you get to a wooden wall with a rope you can stop there and wait for my old slow ass." He grinned. He added "One more thing, you will probably fall at least once. Do not worry about it, even experienced trail runners bite it now and then." They then took off down a trail. 

Aradia was no fool she did not try to pass him even though his pace was a little slow for her at the start. For five miles the run took them across two streams and up and down three very steep hills and as Carl predicted she had fallen. Once she fell slipping on the smooth rocks of one stream crossing and one other time tripping on a rock on the trail. At the end of the run they arrived at the wall. It was the starts of his makeshift obstacle course. For another mile they climbed up ropes and over walls, scampering up and down rocks till they came to a stop by a stock pond.

Aradia was soaked with sweat, bloodied, scratched, scraped and exhausted. From what started out at what she considered a too slow pace soon turned into an almost too fast pace. She was surprised at the difference running on a trail made. But still she kept up. 

Carl did not push her on like a Marine Drill Instructor but offered quite, patient encouragement. His one bit of slip into military mode was what seemed to be a favorite saying "Pain his only weakness leaving the body." She kept going motivated not only to prove herself to him but herself. 

While she got her breath he started talking. "I e-mailed Miranda and she told me your strong points were spells involving water and air. Would you please give me a demonstration of your ability? We are pretty isolated so nobody can see us."

"Now? I am pretty worn out so you won't see my best effort."

"Our enemies are not going to allow you rest up, I need to see what you can do when pushed and near your limits."

She nodded her head and turned toward the stock pond extending her hands and chanted something in Latin. Within seconds the pond was frozen over in an ice sheet half an inch thick. Taking a deep breath she chanted again and the pond returned to normal. She paused for a moment then extending her hands over her head, a column of water rose from the pond dispersed into a cloud form and then fell like rain back down into it. Breathing heavily she turned back to Carl.

"Very impressive kid, what else do you have."

Chaffing a bit at being called kid she started gesturing and chanting in language he did not recognize. Soon a small whirlwind appeared growing larger and larger. She controlled its direction moving it over to some trees; the miniature tornado started tearing limb from a twenty foot oak before she suddenly dispersed it.

Exhausted by the effort she turned to him breathing heavily hoping he would not ask for more.

"You are very skilled, any limitation I should know of?"

Catching her breath " Well, I cannot control the water in a person's body or the air in their lungs and as you have seen I have not yet reached the point where I can cast spells without gestures." 

As a general rule of thumb the more skilled a witch or wizard the less they had to move their arms and hand around being able to cast their magic by word and thought, although some spells always required gestures and or a wand or staff.

"I am sure that will come in time. Now in fairness I will give you an idea of my limited abilities" He stared at her for a moment the she heard the zipper on her camelback opening followed by the GPS and her cell phone floating out over her head and in front of her. Carl then moved them back into the camel back and zipped it up. 

"I can move some things around and if it is a lock that I have studied the internal mechanisms of I can unlock it even some electronic ones and handcuffs as long as I can get a mental picture of what I am moving. The weight I can move depends on how far you want them moved but I cannot lift more than my own body weight. Can you create fire he asked?" She nodded and kicked some sticks and twigs together into a pile. She waved her hand over the pile and it burst into flames.

Carl concentrated on the fire, a ball of flames rose from it circled around them and then dropped back into the fire. "I can control fire but I cannot summon it, between your ability to create it and my ability to control it could come in handy." 

"I cannot create a large amount of fire" she replied. She waved her hand over the fire and it went out.

"Every little bit helps. There is a shortcut to the truck if we head this way." 

Aradia started to follow him then stopped as sudden realization hit her. "Does this mean I am going?"

Without stopping or looking at her. "Yes, if you don't screw up between now and Friday."

She smiled, did a fist pump and resumed following him. 

They returned to the house cleaned up had a quick breakfast then went shopping. First stop was an athletic apparel store. "The problem with your clothing, particularly your undergarments is that they are mostly cotton. Think about what you wore for track. We want more In that direction. Since we are going Haiti you want heat gear something that will wick away the moisture from your body and keep you cool. He directed her toward the women's athletic apparel. I think you have an idea of what to buy and I am uncomfortable in this department so I will head over toward men's. Let me see what you have picked out before you buy it. 

Once she had all her purchases made to include a pair of hiking boots they headed over to the industrial area of town and pulled up to a nondescript warehouse. Before they got out of his truck he turned to her.

"Do you know about Stephen Montgomery?"

"I have heard the name but that is about it."

"He is a supplier of the more conventional items we may need. He used to be a hunter like Marcus till a knee injury took him out of action. He now runs the family business which is supplying hardware to those of us fighting for good. I have done business with his parents before him and trust them as much as I trust anybody. Listen to whatever advice he gives you." Carl then added with a smile "he is almost as smart as me."

As they go out of his truck the door to the warehouse flew open and a young lady rushed out to hug Carl

"Uncle Carl, where have you been?" 

Carl returned the girl's hug but it was obvious he was uncomfortable with such a public display of affection. 

As he disengaged himself from the girl he replied "You know me busy slaying dragons and saving damsels in distress"

Carl turned to Aradia. "Aradia let me introduce you to Carla Montgomery, Stephen's daughter."

"..and his God daughter" cut in Carla as she extended her hand to Aradia."

Carla was about 5' 4" dressed in jeans, sandals and a t-shirt. Her hiar was jet black, straight and cut short just below her ears. Her eyes were dark brown and her facial features Asian while her skin was a carmel color. This was a reflection of her mixed race parentage. Aradia guessed her age at 16 or maybe 17.

"So is your father in?"

"Yes, he has me cleaning some of the merchandise, by the way you are staying for lunch. He saw you pull up on the CCTV and called mom. She will be bringing it over in about an hour." Her expression turned a little more serious "Uncle Carla, I need your help with dad. He keeps insisting that I finish high school before I go into an apprenticeship and I don't want to waste anymore time. You know mom, she backs him on stuff like this. It is only one year of high school so what is the big deal?"

"Oh great" thought Carl, "a family dispute." "I am with your Dad and Mom on this. Besides to use your own words what is one more year of high school? Look, most of your good mentors will want you to complete high school anyway, besides I thought your mom was training you."

"She is but most of it is healing spells and potions."

"...and you want to go out a battle demons. We are not exactly short of witches but ones as skilled in the healing arts as your mother are always in short supply."

"My sister is going to follow her footsteps but it is not what I want to do."

"What about your brother?"

"He wants to go to college, study engineering I think."

"Well he is the smart one. You are still to young too know what you want, but I will make a deal with you. You stop giving your parents grief about high school and after you graduate I will use what influence I have with them and Miranda to try and get you apprenticeship with her; if your parents approve."

This brought about a squeal of delight and another hug "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I just know they will listen to you."

Carl disengaged himself once again from his God daughter. "Before you start thanking me you should learn more about what you are asking for." Indicating Aradia "She is a student of Miranda's maybe you should let her tell you what all is involved. You may not be thanking me."

That resulted in a barrage of questions from Carla aimed at Aradia as the three of them approached the warehouse entrance. She stopped her questions to utter an incantation which seem to be a mix of both French and Vietnamese. The door swung open and they enter a small room facing the doors to a freight elevator. Carla punched a code in while continuing to ask question of Aradia. 

The elevator doors opened and they stepped inside. The doors closed automatically and it was a short ride to the second floor where a set of doors on the other side of the elevator opened. The three of them stepped out into a large room with painted over windows covered with steel grating ran along the walls that made up the buildings long axis. Overhead there were fixtures for fluorescent lighting and a sprinkler system. There were racks and shelves filled with various armaments from medium machine guns to tasers and knives. Other shelves held boxes of ammunition of various calibers. The building had that distinct aroma Carl loved. The smell of metal and oil that was common to arms room and gun stores throughout the world. 

Aradia saw a man rapidly approaching them despite an obvious limp. 

"Carl you old son-of-a --bitch where have you been keeping yourself?" The man roared as he engulfed Carl in a hug and lifted him from the ground. He was around 6 foot tall and maybe 170 pounds. His dark smooth skin marked him as the source of Carla's black heritage.. He had closely cropped hair. He was wearing dark blue coveralls and steel toed boots.

"Working for living, you ought to try it for a change. Now put me down before I take out your good knee".

The man put Carl down and they turned as Carl made the introduction "Stephen this Aradia Wilson. She, unwisely has decided to join me on a mission and we need some additional firepower."

Stephen grasped Aradia hand lightly in his hand. "Nice to meet you Aradia, I assume you are a witch or sorceress? "

"Same here Stephen and yes, I am. I have been studying under Miranda,"

"Good for you, don't let this lug , discourage you" He pointed at Carl. "The fact that he is taking you with him says a lot in your favor. Now come over here I have some firearms that have proved to be favorites among many witches and wizards." 

Turning to his daughter "Go clear of the table in the office so we have a place to sit and eat when your mom gets here with lunch" 

He lead them to a display case in which were several small revolvers and semi-automatic pistols.

Carl made a noise like he was clearing his throat to which Stephen responded. "Now let the lady at least be able to consider all that is available. I know you don't like anything but that relic you carry around but many witches and wizards find these .380s adequate for their needs and they are easy to conceal."

Carl just stood there and said "Steve, we are going to Haiti."

Stephen was quite for a moment "Of course you're right, follow me." He led them over to another counter. 

"Wait a minute" interrupted Aradia, "what was wrong those guns and what is this relic that Carl carries, a flintlock?"

Stephen responded "Those smaller guns are good self defense and concealed carry weapons but not really good as a primary weapon and certainly inadequate for what you may be facing in a place like Haiti. As to your friend he is a bit of a dinosaur, as befits his age. He is unwilling to embrace any other caliber than .45 ACP and he carries a gun designed about 100 years ago."

"Don't let him fill your head full of B.S." Carl reached around and drew out the variant of the Colt 1991 he had in the small of his back. Its two concessions to modern times were the grips and high vis sights. "this is not the only firearm I have it is just the main one. As far as it being an old design, it is still the best providing you have the training to handle it. As we only have a few days this is not the gun for you. I think she would be better off with an XD or Sig."

After much arguing back and forth and taking Aradia to the indoor shooting range downstairs a .40 caliber Springfield XD was chosen. Much to Carl's relief as he was not a fan of the 9mm. He did try out a gun in the SIG .357 and considered one for future purchase. 

Carl and Stephen also discussed the increasing difficulty in bringing down werewolves as it was now taking multiple shots to kill them regardless of shot placement. It was almost as if they were developing a resistance. Also they were tending to run in packs more. Stephen was developing rounds for S&W .500 and Desert Eagle .50 cal that he wanted Carl to try out when he was finished with them.

They had finished purchasing Aradia firearm and they both got some extra ammunition to include werewolf loads and a concealed carry permit for Aradia.




The Arena



Carl turned to her said ,"between now and when we leave I want you here every day practicing for at least two hours with Stephen instructing you. He is going to stick to the basics. We will work on advanced techniques when we get back."

About that time Stephen's wife Carol had arrived with lunch and Carla assisted her with laying it out. Carol was about the same height as Carla and it was from her that Carla go her Vietnamese heritage. 

As they ate Stephen asked Aradia "Did Carl ever tell you the story of how he saved my life?" This elicited a groan form Carol, and "not again from Carla and a frown from Carl.

"Hush up the both of you" Stephen said "some people might find this interesting"

"Only if they had not heard it a thousand times "responded Carol.

Stephen continued on ignoring her "Anyway about 20 years ago Carl, Father Marcus and I were in New Orleans looking to take out this pack of werewolves. We had located them in an abandoned old three story building. We had climbed up and entered through the top floor following the military technique of clearing of a building from the top down. Marcus and I were wearing night vision googles. Carl could get them to fit over his helmet so he went without. We had gone all through the top floor and had not found anything. Until the last room we checked." He paused them smiled "It is always the last room you check."

J"ust as we were about the open the door a werewolf smashed through it. The remnants of the door slammed into me knocking me across the room as Marcus emptied a magazine into the creature.

When I hit the floor it gave way and I fell through it and the next floor till I hit the first floor. The floors must have been weakened in that spot by water leakage from the roof or something. I ended up breaking my right arm and destroying my right knee if the fall. My night vision goggles were still working but I had lost my gun. I could see about two dozen werewolves coming toward me."

At that Carla rolled her eyes while Carl held up 8 fingers. Carol just had the expression of a long suffering wife.

Stephen continued " I figured I was a dead man but Carl here" he stopped and pointed toward him "without hesitation just jumped down after me, two floors down, no rope , nothing. On purpose or accident he land on one of the werewolves that helped to break his fall. It was like a hand grenade exploded among them. As I said he did not have any goggles and it was pitch black in that room but he started slashing away with that sword of his and before you know it he had killed eight or ten of them."

At this Carl held up three fingers

Stephen continued after glaring at Carl "anyway those werewolves started to run over each other trying to get out of there. Marcus had worked his way downstairs and I heard gunshots as he got two more of them. Carl carried me out of there and to safety."

"So for saving your life your named your daughter Carla after him and made him her God father?" Aradia asked

Carol nodded and said. "It was almost a bad thing; Steve wanted to name the baby Carl regardless of gender"

"...and interrupted Stephen. " You, as Carl's partner, get free use of the range and free ammunition"

"Lucky for the business Carl does not have many partners" mumbled Carol, though she said it with a smirk.

After lunch Stephen took Aradia downstairs for more range time while Carl and Carol discussed Carla's education and career choice. Carl was careful to relayed his conversation with his God daughter because he did not want to give the impression he was interfering.

"II told her I would help as long as she finished high school and you guys approved."

"I swear she can be such a little drama queen. Neither Steve nor I have any problem with her wanting to go study under Miranda. I have tried to teach her what I know but she does not have the temperament for the healing arts. But we are adamant about her finishing high school. You would think that we were keeping her chained in the basement to hear her complain."

"Well she is a teenager."

"Tell me about it I have three of them. Look any help you can give in this will of course be greatly appreciated."

At that Stephen and Aradia had finished at the range. He had also fitted her with a protective or bullet proof vest. Everybody said their goodbyes with Carl and Aradia starting for home.

Aradia turned to face him the cab of the truck. "So you have a God Daughter and a namesake. That is kind of cool."

"Yes, it is in a way. I was there for her birth and many significant events in her life. I was even the one who taught her to drive. In all probability I will be around for her high school graduation, and if it happens her marriage and the birth of her children." 

They had were stopped at a traffic light so Carl tuned to her and continued "...and unless I die in battle I will also be around for her eventual death."

The light changed and nothing else was said. Aradia contemplated an aspect of Carl's near immortality. How many friends and loved ones had he seen die through the centuries and how that must weigh on him. As a witch she could conceivably prolong her life a bit but nothing compared to the centuries that a Paladin could live unless she became extremely powerful. 

A wizard or witch that powerful was extremely rare and as time wore on them it tended to corrupt their minds so some of the good ones turned bad. She wondered how a Paladin dealt with it as there is no record of them ever turning bad. Rumor had it that when a Paladin could not take anymore he arranged to face an impossible situation so that he was sure to fall in battle , taking a many of his enemies with him as he could, but there was no evidence to support that.

It was late evening by the time they returned home. As they ate Carl laid out the rest of the week's schedule. "Your exercise schedule is your own. I am not going to start you on a new routine so close to our departure on a mission. You only risk injury and your physical condition is adequate for now. Stephen has scheduled your range training for everyday at noon. I imagine Carol will be there to feed you, just make sure you don't put on too much weight. She has a mother hen complex." An idea a hit him and he snapped his fingers. "You know she may have some useful information on Haitian voodoo. Pick her brain when you get the chance."

"Tomorrow is Sunday and I do not know what your worship schedule is but in between you going to the range and my morning workout we have to get the yard taken care of before the HOA gets on my ass. I will show you how to use the mower. Keeping the grass cut will be how you pay the rent around here. If you are to work out with me I leave her at 5 am. Since we had a run today tomorrow morning I will be going to the "Y" to swim some laps if you care to join me. "

"Don't you go to church? I thought Paladins were some type of holy warriors."

"You might call me unaffiliated. I don't need and intermediary between me and my God. Some Paladins have chosen to align themselves with a particular religion. I do not look down upon or criticize those who follow a particularly faith. I just choose not to. Without getting too deep, there was movie that came out in the 1970s, before you were born of course, and there was a scene that stuck with me in which the main character was talking to God and stated he did not go to church. God replied "neither do I."

I do not believe that God favors the followers of Jesus over those over Mohammed or Buda. He is not going to condemn a billion Muslims to hell anymore than Christians or Jews are going to face one for their beliefs. I do not believe a just, kind, forgiving God sends children into an afterlife limbo or even hell because their parents fail to have a certain religious ritual performed on them.

Religions, to include the followers of your faith, have been a source of evil as well as good and it would be difficult to move against an evil members of one religion if you were a member of another without it causing some religious strife. If I were a member of the Catholic Church and had to move against corrupt members of the Islamic faith it would open up calls of another crusade. Worst still one if I had to move against leaders of the faith I may have chosen. As an example the Templar Knights found out that the Pope is not always a choir boy. What if I was a Sunni and had to move against a Shia? The situation can be difficult. I do not want to appear to play favorites."

Carl paused for a moment to give Aradia time for a response. She had none so he got up and headed off to the den. " We have a busy week, I suggest you get sort through your new stuff and get some rest."

The remainder of the week went quickly and Carl seemed to adjust to having a roomie as Marcus called her when she joined them in watching a Monday night football. Aradia occasionally secluded herself in the garage to work on some magic. She did protest when Carl sent her to get inoculated for the trip to Haiti, but he explained that she should not rely on magic to protect her against everything. 

Wednesday morning she asked Carl to join her at the range she had something she wanted to demonstrate. At the range she had a jar of a white liquid and an older protective vest she had gotten from Stephen. Using her wand she painted and intricate symbol on the vest while chanting and incantation. She then placed the vest down range on a target dummy. She then asked Carl to shoot at the vest. He emptied a magazine of 7 rounds at the vest. Upon examination the vest showed no sign of impact. Instead there were seven bullets lying on the ground in front of it.

Aradia explained that the magic symbol she created was made using a special magical paint she created in her cauldron. It would slow down and even stop bullets fired at whatever wore this symbol but she wanted to test just how powerful it was. Stephen then brought an AK-47 and fired 30 rounds at it. It appeared that at a distance of 50 yards most of the bullets were stopped or diverted , about eight or ten rounds hit the vest but at a reduced velocity. Stephen fired another 30 rounds at the vest and this time about 15 rounds hit the vest at what appeared to be a higher velocity, the remainder falling short. Stephen just shook his head in wonder.

Aradia then spoke up seemingly disappointed. "It appears that the effectiveness diminishes the more it is called upon."

Carl immediately cheered her up saying "This is great. Even a regular vest cannot protect against an unlimited number of rounds and certainly does not protect against injury. My chain mail vest will lessen the damage I suffer but not prevent it if I get shot. With your bit of magic our protection against bullets is enhanced 100%." Go ahead apply it to both our vests."

On Thursday Carl did a final inventory of his and Aradia's gear and they packed up for the trip to Haiti. They also reviewed all available information they had on what they were getting into. The information available was sparse. 

A plea for help had been relayed through e-mails and Internet postings on "good's" secure website, though none direct from Haiti. The e-mails and postings were filled more with rumor than fact. 

The country was so devastated from the earthquake, floods and disease that things like electricity to run a computer much less connections to the internet were problematic at best. From what he had been able to gather a local Voodoo Priestess was having trouble with a couple of Voodoo sorcerers. Some were blaming them for many of the country's more recent problems. 

Carl also had a second motive, a wizard and two Slayers had gone to Haiti together on some sort of mission which nobody was clear on. They had simply disappeared. While he was not personally acquainted with the three there was widespread concern among the "good" community about them although it seemed not enough concern to push anybody into going to Haiti to find them. Carl's opinion was that they had perished and it would be best to know the where, when and how of it. Plus his warrior's creed would not permit fellow warriors to be abandoned on the field of battle; dead or alive. 

The problems they faced were many. For all the effort that was put forth good never seem to make any headway in Haiti, there was just so much evil. It was like the country was a portal to the Hell and they were just barely holding back the tide. 

Their mission was twofold Carl explained. "First, contact and help out, if she will accept the help, a local Mambo or Priestess known as Mama Yacine. Second try to find out what happen to the two slayers and wizard that had disappeared earlier. We have no points of contact so we will just have to feel around and try and turn something up. As you know we really have no idea what we may be facing so I want you to be prepared to face anything from a plague of locust to a son of Satan." 

He handed her the GPS she had on the run. "I have already loaded the airports coordinates into this one as a way point. If we get separated head back there and I will try to link up with you. Wait 24 hours no more. If I don't show get yourself back here. Contact Father Marcus. He will know what to do then." 

"Now before you ask, no, the same does not apply to me. I will not be leaving without you or at least your body. You on the other hand lack the experience to mount a rescue operation if I need one. Now if things really go bad and you find yourself alone and trapped use this." He handed her what looked like a radio with a large red button in the center. Type in this code and hit that button. It acts like and emergency locator beacon. It will send your location by satellite link to Marcus. But only make use of it if you think I am out of commission. It is a last resort item. The bad guys could turn your using it as a means to draw other of us into a trap." 

Aradia merely nodded and stuck both items in to the cargo pockets of her pants. Her mood was extremely somber as the full import of what they were about to face hit her. Her previous missions had the benefit of having more information; knowing almost precisely what they were going up against; more people going with them and not so isolated from possible help.

Carl sensing her mood "Don't worry so much, just remember your training, keep your head about you and always keep me in sight. If I didn't believe in your abilities you would be staying behind to cut the grass."

Twenty-four hours later they were Haiti. They had used various connections to get included on a relief flight.

Despite what Carl told her she was not prepared for it and really neither was Carl. He had witness much devastation and destruction in the world and this certainly ranked up there with the worse of them. Earthquakes, floods, disease on top of corrupt gangs posing as government made the place a hell hole. Even before the earthquake starvation was real. People were eating mud a grass pies to survive. He had a growing sense of uneasiness even before the plane landed. Heck even before he departed every instinct he had was telling him that this was a mistake. Still he chose to go. 

Through a network of connections with other members of the "good" side they easily passed through what represented customs in Haiti.

They were met outside the airport by a man whose appearance represented what Haiti had been through. He was more than thin, he was gaunt. There were very few fat people in Haiti. His clothing was ragged, no shoes, he had a rusty orange patch in his black matted hair, discoloration due to malnutrition. Even more telling was the lack of life in his eyes. They looked blank. He approached them and asked "Are you here to help Mama Yacine?"

Carl nodded and asked "How did you know we were the ones coming and when?"

"Mama Yacine told me to come here and look for people who have nobody waiting for them. She told me they are probably the ones coming to help her."

"Fine and who are you?"

"I am Jean"

Carl noticed that he did not look him in the eyes when he spoke. He did not like it though it did not know if he should just attribute to the stress of the troubles Haiti has been enduring or some other motive."

"Did you meet or see three other men about two weeks ago for the same reason."

"Yes sir" replied Jean "but they were not here to help Mama Yacine. They left for the hills and did not say what they were looking for. "I have not seen them since the day they arrive."

"OK then when do I meet up with Mama Yacine? " Carl hoped she might know something.

"She told me to take you to her tonight as she has preparations to make. She said you should be ready to help tonight when you meet as there is not much time." 

During this time Aradia kept silent and just observed the exchange, learning.

As they talked they were walking from the airport. Jean offered to carry Aradia's large duffle bag she had with her but she declined. Carl figured the bag weighed more than he did.

"We have place for you to rest till tonight"

They walked through the devastation that was Haiti after an earthquake and flooding till they arrived at the outer edge of one of the camps set up for the displaced.

They stopped at a wood and plastic tarp makeshift shack that looked like the others surrounding it. Carl was struck by the absence of people. Unlike his other trips to this country there was always somebody around. The devastation from the earthquake was worse than he expected.

Carl thought about the joke about a powerful earthquake hitting a particularly poor country and causing $1.50 worth of damage. From previous visits he did not think things could get any worse in this country. Well he was wrong things were worse. Haiti was constantly racked with competing corrupt, violent political groupings and whatever passed for peace was only established when one group, normally backed from outside, established superiority over the others. Adding to that you actually had attention whore celebrities sniping at each other over their respective relief efforts. Carl thought the modern term of derision "douche bags" suited them perfectly.

As was usual the UN was its ineffective self. The UN did not mind peace keeping but never seemed willing to make the effort to first establish a peace to keep which was of course the hard part. They preferred others do that. As a politician once said "Nobody wants the United States to be the world's policeman but guess who they call when they dial 911." 

Jean then said "You are to rest, nobody will disturb you. I will come for you when it is dark." With that he walked off.

Carl and Aradia did not rest. Aradia was just nervous about being on a mission. Carl was unsettled by the setup. He was sure that jean was not a Zombie. He explained to Aradia "Haitian Zombies, unlike your brain eating, slow moving raised from the dead Hollywood type were never technically dead but raised form a near death experience caused by a potion made from a neurotoxin most commonly from a puffer fish. They became the slaves of those who had poisoned them. By almost all outward appearances they appeared normal except for slightly diminished motor and mental skills. The man who met him at the airport was not a zombie but just plan beat down by life. He figure Jean was hired to just guide us here he is not evil or any evil intent. It might be detected by whomever he met and was to guide here."

"So you suspect this is a trap" asked Aradia

"I always suspect a trap"

"Then why go along with it"

"Simple, to draw them out. We could search Haiti for years and never find who we were after. If we walk in to the lion's den so to speak we have found them. The only consequence of it not being a trap is the Mama Yacine is legit and needs our help."

"You seem to forget that it being a trap could get us killed."




The Arena



"I am reminded of a quote attributed to a US Marine, "We're surrounded. That simplifies our problem of getting to these people and killing them."

"Funny, but I am serious."

"So am I. Look, this Mama Yacine may know what happened to those three other guys. If she is evil the only way we are going to find her is to go along with this. If she is good no harm done, if bad we take her out."

"What about any zombies? How do we deal with them? If they are drugged they are not acting under their own will."

"That drug makes them no different than had it been a witch's potion, after all what are your potions but chemistry. Short of killing their master I know of no way to release the Zombies. They will still be Zombies but no longer enslaved. If their master tells them to kill you they will do their best to try and kill you. You have to defend yourself either by killing or disabling them. In many respects they are no different than a vampire's familiar. For most of them it would be a mercy killing. If you can disable them without killing them and not put our lives at risk go for it. But you cannot hesitate to kill them if necessary." He looked at his watch "We should start getting ready.

Carl opened his bags and started to prepare his gear. He had his helmet, chainmail armor, gauntlets, sword, battleaxe and shield. He also brought a few extras. Because of the possibility of having to deal with gunmen he brought his own firearms. A SOCOM 16, a variant of the Springfield model M1A1. Based the M-14 it had a shorter barrel but still retained the superb Garand action. Carl considered the AK designs overrated. While they were reliable most designs sucked in terms of accuracy. The Garand action, he felt, gave you the best combination of reliability and accuracy. He also had brought his M-1991A1 which he put in a thigh holster. He had seen the 9mm phase come a go followed by the 10mm .40 cal but he still liked .45 ACP although he did have a wheel gun in .44 mag for certain circumstances. Among his ammo he had one magazine for each weapon with silver bullets although he did not anticipate having to deal with werewolves but in Haiti it was a distinct possibility. He had a protective vest to wear under his chain male armor to reduce the injuries he might suffer should he actually get shot. Plus Aradia had put a magic symbol on it for additional protection.

Aradia had never seen his enchanted weapons and armor before. His helmet, chain mail shirt gauntlets shield and sword were black. Not a shinny metallic black but black as a void. Nothing reflected off of them. It was like they were shadows that could blend with darkness to near invisibility. The sword and shield were different in that they had a grayish outline along their edges.

Aradia also put her own gear on. She wore boots and black cargo trousers similar to Carl's. Her .40 cal was also in thigh holster. She had her protective vest along with a silver dagger and a wand. She also wore two amulets that provided general protection from magical attacks. Their effectiveness decreased with each attack and the strength of the attack.

She looked over at Carl and though about how strange he looked with the mixture of old and modern implements of war.

They sat down on the floor of the shack, back to back and pulled out energy bars and bottled water from their bags. Then it started to rain. For all the good the shack did they might as well have been sitting out in the open. It had more leaks than the Titanic. So they pulled out the ponchos Carl insisted they bring with them. As they sat on the wet ground with rain dripping on them Carl said only one thing "you gotta love it when it sucks" He could not see it but he felt her smile.

It was near midnight when Jean showed up and both Carl and Aradia were up and waiting for him. Carl found he could wear all his gear under the poncho without it being obvious as to what he was carrying. The part of Port- Au-Prince they were in was a place the UN forces rarely ventured into during the day and never at night so he did not anticipate any problems with local authority.

Jean had no rain gear himself juts a plastic bag he draped over his body. He had a flashlight to lead them with but it seemed to be on its last legs as its batteries were probably dying. It emitted a pathetic yellow light against the Haitian gloom so Carl gave him his mini LED light to guide them.

They picked their way through the still rubble strewn streets of Port-Au-Prince. They often had to climb and crawl their way through wreckage blocking the roads. All the while it was still raining and except for the illumination provided by the flashlight in the pitch black. 

Carl really hated the rain, it made a pinging noise as it hit is helmet. He had a cover to put over it normally to eliminate that noise but he had neglected to bring it. Another defect of his helmet's design was it allowed rain to run running into his eyes. There was no visor to redirect the water. His poncho hood would have saved him from both those problems but it was hot and he was overheating.

Aradia had said little during their journey, sticking close to Carl. She did not appear to have any difficult moving through the wreckage. She was still amazed by the devastation. She thought Detroit was bad but this defied description.

Jean also had said little during their travel till finally he announced "we are here".

Carl could see little although the rain had let up it was still too dark. The light only showed more wreckage around them.

"I must leave you now, you will be met by others" said Jean as moved to hand Carl back his flashlight.

Carl motioned for him to keep it and asked "When and who?"

"I don't know" Jean shrugged "My instructions were to bring you this far." With that he turned and trudged off with the both the light and the splash of his footsteps fading into the darkness.

"Well this is a trap" Carl thought to himself. It could have been a simple security measure like many insurgent and intelligence organizations run with one group working another and neither group knows much about the other should one be compromised but know centuries of gut instinct said ambush. He doubted that Jean was in on it. He was probably just some poor innocent guy hired to lead him here. He also doubted that this was laid out specifically for him and Aradia as they were not sure who was coming. It was simply a trap to get whatever good guys came along. The rain had reduced to a drizzle and he pulled his SOCOM 16 out from under his poncho and turned on the light mounted the rail. He really wished he had invested in some good night vision or even better thermal gear. That was most definitely going to the top of his to buy list. 

He whispered to Aradia. "What are my three commands?"

"When you signal me to come, I come. When you signal me to charge, I charge. And when you signal me to run - I follow you and run like hell."

Smiling he whispered " good girl"

They both scanned their surroundings. As near as Carl could make out they were surrounded by high piles of rubble on all sides except for the narrow entrance he and Jean had come through making an open space of about 50 by 50 yards. There were three smaller piles of rubble set evenly apart in the open space. The surface he stood on was hard and not muddy or slick, just wet. 

Carl switched off his light, backed himself up against one pile and sat down to wait. Around 0100 the rain eventually stopped. It was then that Carl heard the sound of shuffling feet and metal scraping on concrete along with what he thought sounded like the flapping of wings.. There were also the sounds of many somebodies or somethings climbing the rubble around him. None of these sounds approached directly at them but instead moved around them. He was tempted to use his light but decided to wait. He whispered to Aradia to remain still and quite.

All they knew, he assumed, was that they were in the confined area but not exactly where. Besides he wanted all the players in place before this show started. He needed to know the whos and whys. After a bit, except for the scraping of metal on concrete all the other sound stopped. The rain stopped and clouds were breaking up. Soon the area was bathed in the light of a full moon.

The moon's illumination gave Carl and idea of the setup, They were surrounded. He could see figures lined around the perimeter of the area with others in the wreckage itself, like fans in the bleachers of some stadium. There were more figurers silhouetted against the night sky standing on the top of the wreckage. Totaled, Carl figured they faced 100 to 2 odds. Well this wasn't the first time he faced such odds. As the song says this wasn't his first rodeo.

Quietly he shed his poncho crouching in the shadows as Aradia followed his example. The nature of his armor was such that he would have been almost invisible if it were not for the modern weapons he was carrying. He was an image in contrasts. His medieval armor and weapons mixed with his modern ones. His steel helmet, chainmail shirt, sword and battleaxe combined with a SOCOM 16 and automatic pistol certainly was a bazaar mix. His shield was strapped on his back so he could handle the SOCOM 16. 

Aradia followed his example.

The quite was broken by a loud female voice speaking with a French accent. "Welcome to our humble home strangers , come out so we may greet you properly" 

There was some chanting in a language Carl did not recognize; he assumed from the same person that "welcomed" them. Suddenly the three piles of rubble in the clearing burst into flames forcing Carl and Aradia to move from the one they were next to. These were not just piles of rubble but bonfires.

Forced out into the light they now visible to his enemies but he could also more clearly identify them. Most were Zombies. Others he was unsure of.

These zombies were not slow moving mindless creatures driven only by hunger. They were fully functioning humans (maybe a little slower moving and thinking) mentally under the control of another. The zombies just stood there looking at him. Their dressed was varied, most the rags many in Haiti were forced to wear these days. They had armed themselves with machetes, knives, clubs and debris from the wreckage like rebar and broken bits of pipe.

The non zombie ones were further away and harder to identify as they were on top of the wreckage. He did notice that one person was dressed different from the rest. A red scarf on her head and red gown covered the rest of her. She held staffs with a large round object on the top. He turned to face this person. "I assume you are Mama Yacine".

"I am" the figure responded and she started down the pile of debris a stop half way between two poles sticking from the wreckage. Six of the other beings also descended down the debris stopping the same distance while others stayed in the dark higher up. The bonfires caused shadows behind them to dance around plus the moon was now bright enough to create its own shadows higher up in the debris. Carl stepped forward. It was then that he realized that what he thought were just poles sticking from the wreckage were crosses stuck upside down. Nailed to each one, also upside down was the body of a man. Stripped naked they had been horribly mutilated. They had been skinned and then each limb, at the ankles, knees, wrists, elbows and shoulders had been carefully separated from the rest of the body while still leaving it attached by some ligaments and tendons. He then noticed that one of the men was still alive. He could see eye movement and shallow movements of the chest. 

Moving closer Carl got a better look at Mama Yacine. She was not tall maybe only 5' 5" or 5' 6' at best . Her skin was a uniform dull gray, even her lips. He could not judge her build or her hair color covered as they were but her eyes we yellow orbs that lacked a pupil. 

He got a better look at the staff she was carrying and saw that the large round objection was topped with was a human head with an expression sheer terror frozen on its features. 

"Well, I guess that answers what happened to the wizard and slayers who came here earlier "thought Carl.

Aradia had moved closer with him and was able to see the head on the staff and the bodies on the inverted crosses. He heard a retching sound followed by the splash of a wet substance hitting the ground.

Without taking his eyes off of Yacine, he asked, "You going to be OK Rad?"

"Yes " she said with some embarrassment

Mama Yacine spoke. "You have notice the fate of my previous visitors no doubt" as she stroked he hair of the head mounted on the staff. "I do hope you will not give us as much trouble as these three, it will be easier on you" She smiled showing a pair of fangs.

"A frickin hybrid" said Aradia 

"Easy kid" Carl said while he thought to himself "Part witch and part vampire, this is turning into a real soup sandwich"

Hybrids were not very common and mostly were vampire with some other being such as Wizard vampire. There were debates as to if a hybrid had to full powers of both identities or only partial powers of each. Carl's own experience lead him to believe that any vampire form had full power of both because vampire powers were part of the being itself they were not learned, they were instinctive as opposed to Wizards, Witches, Paladins, Slayers and hunters. All of them may have some inborn talent but they have practice and train constantly to learn and maintain them. They could be said to be perishable skills; use them or lose them. 

Nobody had the ability or time to be both a powerful wizard and a powerful Paladin for example. Such a person could be accomplished in the battle skills of a Paladin but only a mediocre wizard, a powerful wizard with mediocre battle skills or somewhere in between. There were rumors and myths of combination vampires-slayers/hunters. Vampires that in effect hunted their own kind but Carl had never met any.

One combination that was impossible was a Vampire-Paladin. A vampire's bite was ultimately fatal to a Paladin. A Paladin would not turn but die. No Paladin has ever turned evil. Two in all of history had gone rogue turning more into vigilantes and having to be dealt with by the forces of good but out and out evil, no.

Mama Yacine then gestured toward the one opening into this makeshift arena. Rubble and debris fell from the sides blocking it. There would be no quick exit from this game.

Looking at Mama Yacine Carl eased the safety off of the SOCOM-16, he had already selected his targets. "Shall we get this show on the road then?"

Mama Yacine looked at Aradia and said "She is young and I sense her fear. She is smart enough to be afraid. " Turning to Carl she raised an eyebrow and said "You have no fear" it was a statement of fact not a question.

"This isn't my first time "Carl smiled in reply. "besides, I have never been accused of being too smart."

Nobody said anything further. There was the sound of the bonfires as they crackled and hissed with the wet wood. There was the wind as it pushed the clouds away and whistled through the debris causing the zombies' loose clothing to flap.

Carl moved first. He whipped up his rifle and put one bullet each into the heads of the bodies pinned to the inverted crosses. Mercy killings if you prefer. Only one was still alive but he was making sure. In the blink of the eye he was then emptying the remaining rounds in his magazine at Mama Yacine. He figured he got about 10 rounds into her before two zombies threw themselves into the line of fire. He was sure at least two more rounds went through them and may have hit her.

Carl was knew the bullets could not kill her but he figured they would hurt like hell and piss her off. He was right as he was rewarded with screams of pain and lot of cussing, in French, English and some West African language he was only a little familiar with.

"Why do you do that? Bullets cannot kill her " yelled Aradia. 

Carl smiled and said "but I bet it hurt like hell and it made me feel better."

Then the Zombies charged. He did not have time to reload as the zombies started to come at him. He shoved the muzzle of the rifle into the mouth of the closest one with enough force that it exited the backs of its skull he then released it, making a mental note to himself to look into the practicality of a bayonet. The six other beings with Mama Yacine turned out to be vampires also. They assumed bat like forms; torsos of a human with long claws at the end of their hands and feet; bat like wings with a span of about of about eight feet to 10 feet, Their mouths filled with extremely long fangs and teeth. The entire form except the wings was covered with a fine layer of grayish brown fur. They varied in size with the smallest about the same size as Carl and the biggest topping eight feet in height.

Carl had unslung his shield and drawn his sword as he turned to run from the zombies closest to him and charged toward those furthest away buying himself space. His feet splashed in the pools of water as he ran quickly to the opposite end of the open space. The zombies were not much slower. They may have not been physically or mentally impaired very much but they were no warriors. They were also relative poorly armed with machetes being the only real weapon among them.

Carl knew he could not afford to be cornered because despite their lack of skill he would soon be overwhelmed. He kept moving though the zombies rank never allowing them to surround him completely. He also made use of the bonfires to keep them off his back. Carl used his sword in slashing attacks instead of thrusts so the blade would not be slowed down buy being imbedded in the body. The sword could easily pass thought necks and limbs quickly and was only slightly slowed by a body but he tried to keep those slices to just opening the stomach cavity instead of having to cut through ribs and vertebrae. 

His shield also was in constant motion. When not deflecting and blocking the attacks of the zombies the shield's edge was smashing into their throats faces and skulls. Being ambidextrous has its advantages.

Aradia and Carl had kept some distance between them as they planned. He need room to swing his sword without fear of hitting her and she need space for some of her spells so has not harm him.

As the first wave of Zombies charged at her she gestured at the ground and the rain water rose into the air. She chanted thee words and the water turned into shards of ice . She raised her hand s over her head and then moved them forward in a throwing motion . A strong wind came up and took the shard of ice so they cut through the approaching zombies like grapeshot from a civil war cannon. As a second wave approached she created a whirlwind around her that knocked them back. She was attempting to herd them into a corner

Mama Yacine and the six other vampires were not just sitting back while all this was going on

Three times Carl's armor had glowed with different colors, all indications that there were attempts to cast spells or some other magical attacks against him and that his armor had defeated those attacks. The vampires circled overhead looking for an opening occasionally swooping low but staying just out of reach of his blade. As a vampire swooped in on Aradia she would send a blast of wind to knock it back.

Carl knew he could not keep this up forever; even he would grow tired so he made use of Mama Yacine's unintentional gift of fire. He broke free of the crowd of zombies and ran between two of the bonfires. Using his ability to control fire he had flames move across the ground from each bonfire to connect with the next two for a wall of flames blocking the separating the zombies from Aradia and himself. This would buy them a few seconds breather has the zombies had to move around the ends of the bonfires. 




The Arena



In this time Mama Yacine had summoned and allowed herself to be possessed by the Loa Marinette-Bwa-Chech. She raised her arms toward Carl and chanted. All around him the ground erupted with poisonous serpents. This was strong magic indeed as were no poisonous snakes in Haiti.

Carl backed up to the wall of fire made his own gestured and the fire moved to encircled him roasting the snakes as they moved to attack him. This elicited a scream form Mama Yacine as the spirit left her. It was at this time that one of the circling vampires moved to the attack. Carl drew his battleaxe as he moved to meet the bloodsucker diving on him. He could hear Mama Yacine shouting "NON NON!" He did not know who this was aimed at but the vampires diving momentum would not allow it to stop the attack if it wanted. Meanwhile it appeared the zombies were equally unclear as they had stopped moving.

Now throwing an axe or tomahawk is not an easy thing, particularly in battle. The key is to match the axes rotation with the target so that blade ends up being imbedded in the target. In a competition or contest you have set distance making it easier than on the battlefield when your target is moving. Up to this point the vampires had made sure to stay clear of his blade but they had no idea about his axe throwing ability. He could bring the blade to them.

Carl dropped the fire around him and faced the diving vampire judging its approaching speed. At what he judged the appropriate time and threw the axe. The vampire was surprised by this an attempted to stopped, spreading its wings an attempting to pull up. Carl had calculated this and the axe blade hit the vampire in the center of its chest. The axe being blessed did its work. The vampire screamed in pain then fell to earth dead, bouncing once. 

Carl rushed over and retrieved his ace from the body and for extra measure separated the head form the body. Seeing this another vampire dived to the attack from behind. Carl saw that Mama Yacine's gaze had shifted to behind and above him and he faced this direction. He was back to holding his sword again instead of the axe. 

He held the shield up as if to take the vampires attack head on. At the last second he side stepped to the left and brought his sword down separating the head from body. The right wing and arm of the vampire impacted the shield knocking Carl off his feet as the head went rolling off to the side and the body's remaining momentum was expended as skidded across the ground. Another vampire took this as an opportunity to attack at the same time the zombies began to close in.

Carl got up turning to Aradia and said "wind shear" Aradia thought for a second then nodded with a smile. 

Aradia raised her arms above her head concentrating on the vampire. Unfortunately for the vampire its approach came right over one of the bonfires. As it passed over the fire Aradia quickly lowered her arms and a blast of wind pushed the vampire down into the bonfire sending up a shower of sparks and flames. The vampire tumbled from the fire and took to the air flying off into the distance, a smoldering, smoky ball of fire screeching in pain before it did a slow, smoky death spiral to earth. 

Enraged, Mama Yacine launched her heaviest attack yet just as the zombies were closing in. Three magical blasts struck Aradia in rapid succession also hitting the zombies around her. She was sent tumbling across the ground till she slammed against some rubble on the other side of the arena. 

Carl cut his way through a group of zombies and rushed up to her just in time to block another spell from Mama Yacine. This one hit his shield and it was strong enough to push him against Aradia.

He looked down at her, she had a bloody nose and a bruise on her cheek. One of her amulets was shattered. "You OK, Rad?" As he pulled her up just as another magical blast hit them. The plus was that it also knocked back the zombies that were approaching them.

She nodded and gasped "She is casting spells faster than I can deal with"

"Faster than you can shoot?"

She grinned in comprehension. She stood behind him as he shielded her from Yacines attack's. He said "Say when"

"When"

Aradia had drawn her gun and stepped from behind him firing at Yacine as Carl dealt with the approaching zombies.

Yacine screamed and ducked behind some rubble as Aradia and Carl resumed dealing with the zombies. The other vampires had held back after the loss of their three comrades. The figures at the top of the rubble had remained stationary throughout the battle merely observing. 

Carl launched an attack at the closest group of zombies moving through them till he was standing in front of Mama Yacine as she stood up from behind a pile of rubble He gestured at a machete lying on the ground and using telekinesis he hurled it at her. Mama Yacine turned to a vaporous form to allow the blade to pass through then solidify again. Carl did not have time to follow up as the zombies were again closing in. 

Aradia created a small tornado and was using it to push the zombies back. Carl gestured toward the nearest bonfire and stared feeding a string of fire into the tornado turning it into tornado of fire. This scattered the zombies driving them into the rubble. Carl noticed Aradia was showing signs of tiring and he knew even he could not keep this up forever. It was time to end this he thought as another of Mama spells struck him. The force was enough to stagger him.. He drew his .45 and emptied the magazine at her forcing her to seek cover once again. Carl enjoyed hearing her cuss. 

Carl turned to Aradia and said "Charge" as he sprinted toward Mama Yacine

One of the circling vampires landed in front to him blocking his path. This was the biggest one, the other two had landed next to Mama Yacine, ready to defend her. Carl did not slow down. Using his shield he knocked the striking clawed hands of the vampire upwards. At the same time he started the swinging of his sword low, putting all his strength behind it. He swung the blade up between legs of the vampire; driving up through its crotch, through the torso and exiting out between the creatures right shoulder and neck splitting it two. The momentum of Carl's swing spun him around a full 360 degrees as he went past the falling body. He came to a stop 20 yards from Mama Yacine and the two remaining vampires. 

Carl stood catching his breath. Attacking them was not an option because he would have to climb up into the rubble to get to them. He glanced quickly over his shoulder making sure the zombies were still out of the fight. He figured that he about another minute before they regrouped and attacked again. 

The beings at the top of the rubble were still there, still just observing. Her could hear Aradia breathing heavily behind and off to his right. He checked the ground they were standing on; it had been dried from the heat of the bonfire behind them.

He could not get directly at Mama Yaince because he would have to climbing through the rubble to reach her but he had another option. Breathing heavily he focused intently on Mama Yacine and there was a rumble in the sky. A look of what must have been realization crossed across her face. As she began the transformation into her bat like form there was a bright light then a blast. 

It knocked Carl on this back and the flash temporarily blinded him. He quickly got back to his feet shaking his head to clear it while patting out the parts of his trousers that were smoldering. The lightning bolt he had summoned was powerful and accurate. It had blasted a small crater in the rubble as it incinerated and blew Mama Yacine's body into many pieces. Bits of it could be seen charred and smoking around the crater.

He looked over at Aradia as she struggled to her feet brushing the debris off her and brushing small bits of rock from her skin that had been imbedded there form the blast. "What the hell was that?" 

Carl did not answer but turned back toward their enemies.

One of the vampires with her had been stunned, like Carl, by the lightning. He saw it struggle to its feet. It looked around for Mama Yacine, then looked at him let out a loud growl and flew away. Carl looked over at the surviving zombies and saw they were already scaling the rubble to leave. Further off to one side was the other vampire struggling to free itself from some rebar it had been impaled on. The rebar had been sticking out of the rubble. Its wings had been shredded by the blast and one side was badly scorched and still smoking. Carl climbed over to it careful to stay clear of its claws he removed its head with his sword. 

Looking around Carl and Aradia found themselves alone. The zombies were gone, the vampires were gone. The beings who were merely spectators had also left. All that remained were the bodies and parts of bodies. The ground was covered with corpses, severed limbs and heads of the slain. He was a ragged sight with burn holes in his blood splattered trousers and with blood also on his face from the zombies he had slain. 

His armor, sword and shield showed no sign of wear and bore no signs of battle. They were not stained or other wised marked with blood of those slain. Other than a few bruises and exhaustion he was unharmed.

Aradia had dried blood around her nose, a large bruise on her right cheek and numerous cuts and scrapes. Of her amulets one was gone and the other badly damaged. She was obviously exhausted and trembling a little as she came down from the adrenalin high.

Clouds were starting to form again obscuring the moon and reducing visibility as the bonfires were beginning to burn out. Carl and Aradia moved over to the two inverted cross and began the gruesome job of removing the bodies from them; they also retrieved the head from the staff. Aradia threw up twice as Carl pried the bodies off of the makeshift inverted crucifixes. It took three trips but he put the remains of the wizard and two slayers onto one of the bonfires. He also piled some more wood from the rubble onto it. 

He did not know their faiths and it was not a formal funeral but he said a few what he felt were appropriate, words over their pyre as did Aradia for her faith. They then gathered what remained of the vampires and put them in a separate bonfire. Aradia caused a wind to fan the bonfire making it burn more intensely as Carl put more fuel on it. He gathered up his SOCOM 16 cleaning the gore form the muzzle as best he could and grabbed his poncho. Rodents had begun to appear and were already investigating the carnage.

They climbed out of the makeshift arena and trudged through the near total darkness back to the shed where they had left their bags.

They saw and heard no one or thing on the way back. Their bags were just as they left them. Carl had Aradia pullout her first aid kit, another one of the purchases on the shopping list, and they cleaned up her cuts and scrapes. She still had not said much and Carl was a bit concerned. "Rad, are you OK?"

She sighed looked at the ground "Yeah, just sort of disappointed in my performance."

"Why is that, what do you think you did wrong?"

""I realized I am out of my league. Yacine was much more powerful than me. I could never have handled her alone."

"Don't let that bother you, there are not many could"

"You could have. You did not need me there. Sure I was helpful but even Yacine recognized you as her biggest threat, that is why she concentrated her first attacks on you. " She paused and looked at him "The thing is as much as I was out of my league in dealing with her, even with the zombies and other vampires she was just as much out of her league going against you."

"Let us just say I have a lot more experience and that counts for a lot. I do not know how old Yacine was but I am willing to bet I had a few centuries on her just as she had a lot on you. Do not be so disappointed in your performance you did great for a relative newcomer. You catch onto things quickly and I would imagine that if you live long enough you will rank up there with Miranda. As to your value in this past battle the important thing is what you learned"

She seemed to perk up a little as they packed up their gear and headed back to the airport. Walking back to the airport she hit him with a big question. "Just who the hell are you anyway?"

"What exactly what do you mean Rad?" He was not surprised but acted so.

"I think you know what I mean. I have not seen as much as you but I know that even Miranda cannot generate something as powerful as that lightning strike you did. Heck you almost killed us with it. You pretend to be just some lowly Paladin but your powers are something more."

"Not really. Look kid my magical abilities are not that great. I t took you a couple of years to get where you are at with wind and water; I have been trying to get a handle on this lighting thing for centuries. My abilities are few and limited. I can master any weapon worthy of the name almost immediately. I am seemingly immune to illness and recover from injuries, even magically induced ones quickly. All of that would be relatively meaningless without my special weapons and armor. Take them away from me and I would have died long ago. Without them I would not present much of threat to our enemies. In terms of pure magical ability you are much more powerful than I am. It is what I bring with me that changes the alignment.

My one big advantage is experience; hundreds of years of it. I used my sword and shield tonight just as I have hundreds if not thousands of times before. That is a lot of muscle memory. I have seen just about every type of attack and ambush. I am pretty sure that Satan and others rack their brains to come up with something new."

It was still early morning when they arrived back at the airport and it would be noon before they could get a flight out. They took that time to clean up and Aradia asked some more questions.

"So who were those guys at the top of the rubble? All they did was watch."

"Remember that a large part of this business is establishing a reputation, both on the good guys side and the bad guys. I think that is what Mama Yacine was attempting to do. They were her invited guests so to speak, to witness a demonstration of her power. They were probably other vampires; maybe even witches and sorcerers. I imagine she killed the three others with a similar audience in attempt to recruit followers or at least convince them to join an alliance."

"Why didn't they help her?"

"I guess they did not want to align themselves with a vampire who could not even deal with a young witch and aged Paladin."

Through various good connections they were on an outbound plane chartered for relief operations. They grabbed a spot off by themselves in the net seating running along the sides of the aircraft and began to dose off. He did not know how long he was asleep but suddenly he was wide awake aware of somebody sitting next to him. He looked over and realized it was Satan. There was nothing distinctive about his looks he just knew it. Satan appeared to be an average 30's something professional in the attire of the International Red Cross. He looked over at Aradia and saw that see was still asleep.

Satan spoke first "You really area first class pain in the ass, you know that"

"Well hello to you to and no don't worry about waking me up"

"I won't. You cost me big last night."

"You? I would have figure that Yacine was part of Vlad's crowd. You and vampires don't always run in the same circles. Next thing you know you guys will be having a joint company picnic." Carl looked around. The other passengers were sleeping or reading and did not seem to take any notice of Carl and Satan. They were too far away to hear their conversation over the aircraft noise.

"I was setting Yacine up as a challenger to Vlad's leadership. I figure to keep him busy defending his home turf so he would not be bothering mine. She was gathering power and establishing a rep but guess who has to come along and screw it up. It was a lot of hard work, particularly dealing with all the Voodoo stuff"

"Happy to be of service. It is interesting that you are willing to concede that Vlad has turf as you put it."

"I concede nothing the vampires will return to my leadership once I have dealt with Vlad." He paused. "You needn't look so smug. That fancy thing you do with lightning won't save your ass the next time. Besides I think you are losing your touch, you let one vampire get away"

"I did not see you there. Did you know I would show up?"

At this point Aradia had awaken and was listening in on the conversation

"I was not there. But somebody sent me the highlights. I knew there would some goody, goody showing up. The plan works as it always does. Let it leak out that somebody is in trouble or something evil is brewing. You guys get wind of it and pass it along and somebody comes down to investigate or help. In this case Yacine ambushes them gaining prestige, power and experience. She had just not progressed to the stage to where she could deal with the likes of you. I really didn't expect you knowing how you hate Haiti. I should have known better as you are also a sucker for a damsel in distress. "

Carl smiled "Well maybe, but as nobody else seemed anxious to head down there. Plus there was matter of the three guys who went missing."

"Ah yes, nobody gets left behind. I am sure I will be able to use that against you someday. " He paused in thought for a moment then asked, looking at Aradia "So when did you start running around with kids?"

Aradia replied "This kid just helped him put down one of your friends and set back your plans."

Satan eyes glowed red as he looked at her "Don't you dare to presume that you are more than a minor annoyance to me. My plans and fortunes have never looked better. Worldwide economic unrest with cries for more protectionism by individual groups, Class warfare and isolationism are on the rise in the United States. Sure some call it non-interventionism but a rose is a rose. Anti-Semitism and other intolerance on the rise in Europe, economic and territorial disputes are on the rise in Asia over precious resources along with population pressures while Africa and Russian always remain prime territory for me. In the Middle East I have still have groups killing each other in the name of their God. So don't you even think you are more relevant than a speck of dust to me."

Aradia was about to respond but Carl put an hand on her arm. Turning to Satan he asked "So what is with the Red Cross outfit, a bit of a stretch for you isn't it?"

"Not really, you would be surprised how much evil, intentional and otherwise, is done in the name of helping people.' Giving and evil cackle he added "As the saying goes the road to hell is paved with good intention." 

Pausing and checking his cell phone before he asked "You going to be there this week?"

Carl nodded "unless something comes up"

"See you then and if it is not past her bed time bring the child along." Before Aradia could reply he vanished.

She sat there quietly with a furrowed brow. After a few minutes Carl said "I know you have some more questions, so ask them."

She took a deep breath then slowly let them out before speaking. "Is he right, Satan I mean? Do we really not make a difference?"

"Let me answer you with a question. Would I keep doing this if I thought we didn't? I believe everything we do makes a difference. I don't just mean people like us, Paladins, witches, hunters and so on. I also mean everybody else as they go through their daily lives. I believe simple acts of kindness, just doing the right thing are as important as slaying demons. Simply holding a door open for somebody or donating a bag of rice to a food bank carries the same weight as what we just did in Haiti."




The Arena



Sara was about 20 years younger than me. We first met when she came to work at the large law firm I was with at the time. It was Saar's first job out of law school. In addition to being extraordinarily beautiful, Sara was (and is) very intelligent, funny, witty, and has a great attitude towards life. There was something about her that made you think that getting to know her better would be very rewarding.

To this day, I'm not sure what Sara saw in me. However, we became good friends. We shared views on a number of subjects and found each other amusing and entertaining. More importantly, we each learned that we could trust the other person. Because I was, at least arguably, one of her "supervisors," our relationship did not go any deeper than friends while we were at the firm. 

Large law firms have intense and complex internal politics. The recession made the environment at a number of firms, including ours, cutthroat. About seven years ago, I decided that I was not thriving in that environment. So, I went out on my own.

Sara stayed behind at the large law firm. One of the few regrets that I had in leaving the firm was my expectation that I would be seeing Sara little, if at all, going forward. Late in the afternoon of the first Friday on which I was in my new office, Sara called, inviting me to dinner. Nothing other than a very pleasant dinner happened that first night. However, we were soon lovers.

To try to expedite a long story, Sara left the large firm about six months after I did and became my law partner. One thing I learned as I got to know Sara better was that she had a genuine interest in nudism, an interest that I shared. Our first trip together, a couple of months after Sara joined my office, was to Club Orient on St. Martin. Club Orient is a great place under any circumstances. Having Sara with me naked made that a truly memorable trip. I'm not sure that a "true nudist" would appreciate this, but, both of us being nude around other people had a very positive effect on our sex life. Several times a day on St. Martin, we'd retreat to the Chalet to fuck, suck, and lick each other. Sara was a vigorous lover anyway; but, the knowledge that every inch of her was on display to anyone who walked by seemed to imbue her with greater sexual energy.

Not long after we got back from St. Martin, Sara came into the office one day and stripped off. She walked into my office completely nude.

"Harry, we spent several days together on St. Martin without putting on a bit of clothes, and we both loved it. I don't see any reason why we can't or shouldn't work naked, at least when no clients are coming in. So, you need to get those clothes off right now."

"What about deliveries?" I asked.

Sara smiled. "What about them?"

That issue was settled. I realized that I didn't have any choice and that it probably would make the office more fun. I stood up. I unbuttoned my shirt and tossed it on a chair. I kicked my shoes off, undid my belt, and pushed my trousers and my boxers down. Sara came around my desk and gave me a naked hug and a kiss.

"I love you," she said.

I had hoped so, but that was the first time she had said it explicitly.

That set the pattern. Sara and I started working nude most of the time. I suspect that the landlord wondered why we kept the thermostat in the suite so high in the winter. It was, however, a warm feeling to be standing in the office window, naked, with Sara naked next to me, watching the snow fall on the city streets.

Our office had been a nude zone (to the point where Sara had put a warning sign on our front door) for about a year when Sara decided that we needed a secretary. I couldn't argue with her because we were both busy and the time we spent on clerical work was time we could otherwise use to make money. Still, I was disappointed. I had gotten used to working with no clothes on, and seeing Sara naked in the office all of the time was the best work environment I could imagine.

"I don't see why we need to start dressing just because we hire a secretary," Sara declared.

"We're not likely to get someone who is willing to work naked, and I'm not sure we could even legally put that as a condition on the job," I responded.

"Who says that our secretary needs to get naked?" Sara retorted. "All we need is someone who is cool with us being naked."

"How do you bring that up in the interview?"

"Let me handle it."

Sara did, at least, agree that we should be clothed to interview any candidates. Given the layoffs firms had made over the last several years, I shouldn't have been surprised that we received a number of resumes, including several from people whom we knew from our old law firm. We agreed that those people were out. It didn't take long for a clear star to emerge: Gwen, a very attractive and intelligent young lady who had a B.A. in art history and her paralegal certificate. She was working at another large law firm, but didn't like the people.

Gwen had been outstanding through her first interview. We had avoided the big issue. Finally, Sara asked what I thought we be the disqualifying question.

"Gwen, there is one thing a little different about this job. Harry and I both work naked most of the time. That means we walk around here most of most days with our butts and genitals, and my tits, fully exposed. Would that be a problem for you?"

Gwen laughed, until she realized that Sara wasn't joking. Then she paused and thought for several minutes.

"Well, I'm very used to being around life models who are naked. I don't want to take my clothes off, but I think I could deal with it."

Sara asked, "Would you be ok if Harry and I undressed right now?"

Gwen nodded. So, Sara and I stood up and both stripped naked in front of her. Sara and I sat back down, both being careful to keep our legs apart so that my dick and Sara's pussy were on full display to Gwen. Gwen looked, but didn't seem bothered. The interview went on to more mundane things like salary and benefits. At one point, we heard the bell on our outside door ring. Naked, Sara left the room to answer it then walked back in holding a UPS package.

"Wow!" Gwen exclaimed.

Somehow, Sara taking a UPS delivery in the nude sealed the deal. Gwen started working for us full -time two weeks later. I guess you could have characterized our office as CFNFNM - one clothed female, one nude female, and one nude male. Surprisingly, it worked very well. Over time, Gwen got to know us well enough that she started making teasing comments about our pubes.

Sara and I had moved in together. About twice a year, we took vacation back to Club Orient, to Caliente, or somewhere else where we could go nude with others. It continued to be the case that Sara's desire for sex and the energy she put into our sex acts, while never low, was very noticeably greater when we were naked around other people.

One evening at home, Sara said "You know I just feel sexier when I know that people have been looking at my bare ass, cunt, and tits. I wonder how I'd feel if I knew that people were watching me fuck."

I didn't know and said so. I thought that her statement was just an expression of intellectual curiosity. I was selling Sara a bit short.

A few weeks later, Sara showed me something she had printed off of a website she played on. It was a very discrete announcement:

WANTED: Committed couple to make love

for an audience. Private event, but large audience

expected. If interested, call...

The ad gave a phone number with an area code I didn't recognize. Sara said that she had looked it up and it was in Texas.

Sara got a special gleam in her eye. "So, lover, would you fuck me in front of a large audience?"

I assumed that the ad was really looking for people who performed in the porn industry, and that Sara would figure that out and lose interest. I thought it best to be mildly supportive. "Call them if you want to. Find out what it is about."

A couple of days later, Sara came in my office. "Remember that post I showed you? Well, I called them. A woman answers the phone '____ County events Center.' Anyway, it is a privately owned arena. The owner is a bit kinky, apparently. He wants to invite about 8,000 'friends and business associates' to his arena to watch a couple fuck. She says that he doesn't want to use sex workers. I asked what I needed to do if I and my partner were interested. She said, 'send us a resume,' so I blanked our names and contact info off of ours and mailed them in a plain envelope. I did give her my cell number to call back."

I said, "You seem excited. Why am I thinking that she called back?"

"She did. She said that the owner liked our resumes, if they're real. They want us to come down to Texas for an interview. They pay the airfare and lodging."

"Oh," I said.

I checked your calendar and you are free next Thursday and Friday. So am I. So, I called the woman back and said we could come down then. She said she'd book our flights and hotel and e-mail tickets."

"Is this just an interview or do we also audition?" I asked.

Sara got that gleam again. "Would it bother you if we have to audition?"

"Well, I can see that the idea has you aroused. I guess that I have to go along with it, whatever it involves."

"No. If it seems too sleazy or unsafe, we just leave," Sara replied.

That explained how Sara and I ended up in a medium sized city in Central-West Texas talking to a complete stranger about fucking in front of 8,000 people. We had flown to DFW and changed to a commuter flight. About an hour later, we were in a small airport where a limo driver was holding a sign with the name "Sara." He drove us into town and stopped in front of what appeared to be a medium-sized sports arena.

We were ushered into an elevator which went up several floors and deposited us outside and executive office suite. Walking in, we were greeted by a truly stunning receptionist.

"You must be the couple about the special event. I'm glad to see you. Mr. French (not his real name) really wants to do this and was getting frustrated that he could not find an acceptable couple. Let me tell him you are here."

A moment later, the beauty ushered us into a huge office. One wall was completely a window which looked out into a dark sports arena. Mr. French was a heavy-set man, expensively dressed, with a thick Texas accent.

"I built this place to get this town on the map. Other than the local Div III college basketball, the best I've had in here was a Spurs exhibition game, once. I figured, shit, its mine. If I'm not making any money from it, I can at least have fun with it."

Then he asked us to sit down.

"What I have in mind is that I know a lot of people. I figured I'd invite them to watch an ordinary couple fuck and suck a bit. Doing it in an arena is different and should make it pretty erotic. I can't charge anything or serve alcohol or it'd be illegal. Same, I can't pay the couple or that'd be illegal. But, I also own that bar across the street, so no one should go thirsty and I should make a couple bucks."

What I'm thinking is that it will be a lot sexier if the audience gets to know the couple some first with their clothes on and then sees then naked and going at it. So, I figured we'd do this on a Saturday night, it's not like I have much booked in here on Saturday nights. I'd have the couple here from, say, Thursday. Thursday night they'd have dinner with a few of my close friends who will be there. Friday, you'd be hanging around downstairs in the lobby for a few hours so the other folks coming to watch you could stop by, say hi, and talk to you a bit; get o know you a little. How does that sound?"

With, to me, obvious sincerity, Sara replied "very exciting."

"Good," Mr. French said. "Now, tell me about yourselves."

We spent the next 45 minutes giving our backgrounds, explaining our relationship, and answering questions. Some were very pointed. Finally, Mr. French said, "Y'all don't mind if I check into what you've told me a bit, do you?"

We shook our heads to indicate that we didn't mind.

French pulled two forms out of a desk drawer. "Good. Just sign these authorizations for release of information. We'll tell anyone who asks that we're doing a background check 'cause we're thinking about hiring you for something real sensitive. You just gotta trust me on that one "

We really didn't have anything to hide, so we signed the forms and handed them back.

French said, "I'll bet that you expect me to ask you to fuck for me or, at least, to get naked. I'm not going to do that. You look like real attractive people. I want to look forward to seeing you naked for the first time out on that floor in front of the audience just like everyone else you're gonna meet."

French took a breath and continued, "I know you've got a flight home tomorrow. I really appreciate you coming down here to talk with me about this. I let you know if you're it after I see your background checks. In the meantime, I'd be honored if you'd have dinner with me and my lady-friend. I'll let you go to your hotel and clean up, say a couple hours?"

Sara spoke up, "Mr. French, are you interviewing anyone else to be your performers?"

"That's a fair question," French replied. "I do have a couple from California scheduled to come in. I'm gonna have Michelle call them and say something has come up. If your background checks are clean, it's your if you want to do it." Looking at Sara, he added "I hope you do. I'd really like to see you naked and going at it."

Sara smiled and, only slightly sarcastically, said "Thank you. I'm flattered."

The limo driver was waiting below and took us and our bags to a nearby Marriott. Once we were in our room, Sara asked "What did you think?"

I smiled. "I know what you thought. By the time French was done talking about what he wanted us to do, your nipples were poking through your top. I'm not as enthused as you are, but it does sound like it would be fun. No one out here in Texas knows us, so this is probably the time and the place to do something like this."

Sara came over and hugged me tightly. "You're ok doing it? Great! I really want to do this." Then she kissed me.

For dinner, Sara put on a very sheer beige dress which did nothing to hide her perfect figure, or to conceal the fact that she was only wearing a garter belt and hose beneath. It was a warm evening, so Sara insisted that I wear a very tight knit shirt she had packed and tight slacks that made my dick very clearly discernible.

"French may not want to see us naked yet but that doesn't mean we can't give him an idea of what he's got to look forward to," Sara explained. Sara did look very beautiful and sexy.

The same limo driver (what were his hours?) took us to a discrete and expensive looking restaurant. A hostess whose dress was almost as revealing as Sara's greeted us.

"You must be Mr. French's guests. I'll show you to our private salon."

We followed the hostess through the main dining room. Every eye in the room followed her and Sara as they walked. We went around a corner to a door with frosted glass. The hostess knocked twice, and then opened the door. At the back of the room was a bar and female bartender. To our right was a table full of hors d'oeurves. Sitting at the table in the center were French and a younger lady with long, straight black hair. French and the woman stood as we entered. French extended his hand to shake.

"Good to see you again. Is the hotel all-right? This place is another of my properties. I decided that we needed one good restaurant in this town. The lady is Vivien, my friend and my accountant. It helps if you accountant is also a good friend."

I noticed that introducing Vivien was French's third priority. Vivien was, maybe, 30. She was very pretty; wearing a maroon dress with a plunging neckline that showed a fair portion of what appeared to b two lovely breasts. 

With no hint of a Texas accent, Vivien asked, "How are you? You're the couple whom Howard has gotten to do his sex act?"

We acknowledged that we were.

Vivien smiled. "I actually envy you. I think that would be incredibly erotic. Unfortunately, I can't do it because I live in this town. I only get to watch."

Howard interrupted. "Get yourselves drinks. Edith back there will give you anything you want, except white wine. This is West Texas and we don't do white wine out here."

I had a vodka & tonic. Sara had a dark rum & tonic. Drinks in hand, we sat down at the table.

Vivien picked up where she had left off. "Have you done anything like this before?"

Sara answered, "No. It has just been a fantasy of mine. We have spent a lot of time at nude beaches and resorts, so the nudity part won't be difficult."

Vivien shot French a look. "These folks go to nude beaches. They don't seem weird to me." Turning to us, Vivien explained "I've asked Howard several times if we could vacation at a clothing-optional resort. Howard won't take his clothes off in front of other people. He loves to see other people nude, though. I keep telling him that, if you are going to look, you have to give others something to look at too."

Rather than respond, Howard changed the subject. "I took the liberty of deciding the dinner menu. We're all having grouper. These fish were swimming off the Florida coast this morning."

The dinner conversation continued on in that same pattern. Vivien wanted to talk about our upcoming performance. Howard kept changing the subject and, as I inferred was habit, tried to dominate the conversation. We were able to learn that Vivien, who seemed very intelligent and pleasant, was originally from Illinois.

Howard left the room at one point. Vivien took the opportunity to tell us, "I am a bit of a 'kept woman.' But, Howard's money isn't the sole attraction, he is really a decent guy and he demands very little of me. Basically, I'm here because I'm a good accountant, and honest unlike his last one, and because Howard wants a woman on his arm. He'll get tired of me after a while. That's ok. Howard's 'severance packages' are very generous so I should be set for a long time when I'm 'let go.'"

I'm not sure that I or Sara would have struck Vivien's bargain, but she seemed to be a good person and was certainly good dinner company.

The meal was outstanding. At the end of the evening, French said, "the limo will pick you up at the Marriott about 40 minutes before your flight. The terrorist risk is pretty low here so you move through TSA pretty quick. Now, please excuse me, I need to talk to the manager for a minute."

Vivien escorted us back to the entrance and the long-suffering limo driver. All eyes in a still virtually full dining room followed her and Sara across the room. Sara was clearly the star of the pair, but Vivien was a lot more than honorable mention. Vivien stood with us for a moment at the restaurant door.

"I really hope that you two go through with this," she said. I really do envy you if you do. I'm as kinky as Howard, I guess; but I'd love to do that. Naked in front of several thousand people?" Vivien smiled. "I get wet just thinking about it." After a pause, Vivien added, "I appreciate you both showing off discreetly tonight. I'm looking forward to seeing you both with nothing on."

For some reason, Vivien's comments and her earnestness hit me, and I was getting a bit hard. Vivien smiled and pointed to my crotch.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing that unwrapped and in use."

Sara and I were pawing each other a bit in the limo. It was after 10:00 p.m. but was a warm Texas night. 

Back in our room, Sara said, "Let's check out the hotel pool." I agreed. Sara stripped off her dress and garter belt and rolled her stockings down. She grabbed a large t-shirt from her bag and put it on. The hem barely covered her bare ass. Sara tossed me an item she had bought for me a while back: a black satin wrap that went around my waist and covered me to an inch or so below my dick. It fastened with Velcro. I stripped off and put on the wrap. I grabbed a keycard and we headed for the elevator.




The Arena



The hotel pool was on the roof. It afforded a good view of the town and, in the daylight I assumed, some of the surrounding plains. The pool deck was dark. However, we heard voices. As our eyes adjusted to the dark, we could see two figures in the water.

A female voice with a Texas accent said, a bit timidly, "Are you from the hotel?"

"No," I answered.

The voice giggled. "That's good cause we don't have any clothes on."

Sara and I looked at each other. Sara pulled the t-shirt over her head and I unfastened the Velcro. "Neither do we," I replied.

"In that case, come on in the water," the voice said a bit more confidently.

Sara and I took the concrete steps in the shallow end into the water. We were in water midway up our thighs when two twenty-something girls came up to us. Both were naked.

Both girls looked us up and down. The one who spoke before said, "You sure don't have anything on." She looked at my dick. "That's nice to see."

Sara and I introduced ourselves. 

The girl who had spoken said, "I'm Jenny. This is Pat. Don't think we're lesbian just cause we're up here swimming naked. There just isn't much else to do in this town."

Pat spoke for the first time. "There's a hot tub over in the corner. I doubt that they turn it off. Let's try it."

Although it was a warm night, we all four got into the Jacuzzi, which was still working. It was a tight fit. I was sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with Jenny and Sara was shoulder-to-shoulder with Pat. The ladies explained that they were high school volleyball coaches from two adjoining schools near Houston. They were in town for a coaching clinic.

"The clinics are good," Jenny explained. "But, about half the coaches are guys and they just want to get us drunk and get in our pants. Some of the other girls are fun, but they were pairing off tonight. I skin dive, but I don't muff dive. That left Pat and me looking for something to do. The only thing we could come up with is skinny-dipping in the hotel pool."

Jenny paused for a moment. The she started again: "Y'all know, as a high school coach, I've got to be real careful who I mess around with. I make the wrong move and I could lose my job and get blacklisted from coaching anywhere in Texas, maybe in the whole US. Out here, no one knows who I am or what I do." 

As she was saying this, I felt Jenny's hand under the water stroking my dick. I thought that I knew where Jenny was headed. Apparently, so did her friend Pat. Pat leaned over and whispered in Jenny's ear. Jenny frowned for a moment. Then her face got a look of resignation.

"Pat reminded me that we've got to be up early, so we've got to go. It was nice meeting y'all." With that, Jenny and Pat stood up and started climbing out of the Jacuzzi.

Pat turned back to look at us. She smiled. "Make sure y'all get a good look."

Jenny and Pat toweled off very thoroughly next to the Jacuzzi, giving us every opportunity to have a very good look. Then they pulled on one-piece suits and went in to the elevator.

Sara giggled. "See. I'm not the only girl who likes to show off a bit." Sara's hand grasped my dick, which was partially hard from Jenny's stroking. "The coach was doing a bit of therapy?" Sara asking jokingly. "Well, I don't want to waste this."

With that comment, Sara stood up, straddled me, and lowered herself down into my lap. Sara guided me into her. For a few moments, Sara just lay against me with her head on my shoulder. We were both savoring our coital connection. Then Sara began to ride.

We had been home for almost two weeks when Vivien called Sara. Sara called me into her office and put Vivien on speaker.

"You two passed all of Howard's checks," Vivien informed us. "If you are still willing to do this, you are the couple."

I could see Sara's nipples hardening. Sara replied for us both. "Of course, we'd love to do it."

We then discussed a date. French's arena was no as devoid of events as he claimed. Between the arena schedule and our schedules, we finally found a Saturday six weeks out.

Vivien explained a few of the details. "We'll fly you in on Friday morning. As you know, it takes a good part of the day to get here. You should be in the hotel by 3:00 p.m. That will give you some time to rest. You'll be at the same Marriott. Howard wants you at his house at 7:00 Friday night. He'll be giving a cocktail party for a few of his high-roller friends who will be watching you Saturday. He wants them to meet you. You'll keep your clothes on for the cocktail party."

Vivien went on. "The show will be at 8:30 Saturday night. We know that there are physical limitations, especially for Harry; but, if you can, try to make it last about an hour. Harry wants you in the lobby of the arena, dressed, at 5:30 p.m. He's having a reception for everyone attending. The idea is to get as much of the audience as possible to meet you with your clothes on."

Sara responded, "That's fine with us. Should we shave?"

Vivien laughed. "I'll leave that up to you. Whatever you think will look best under the bright lights."

Sara said, "Thank you. We're really looking forward to it."

After the call ended, we looked up and realized that Gwen had been standing in the door of Sara's office. This was a bit embarrassing because the thought of what we'd agreed to do had us both a bit aroused. Sara's nipples and my penis were both hard. We also didn't know how much Gwen had heard.

Gwen quickly made clear that she had heard enough. "The audience is going to meet you with your clothes on? I assume that means they'll be seeing you 'under the bright lights' with your clothes off. What are you two up to?"

Busted by our secretary. In a spirit of candor, Sara explained what we had agreed to do. When she finished, Gwen was silent for a moment.

"Wow! That's pretty brave. It is also pretty kinky. I guess you're safe enough doing it in Texas that no one here will find out. Wow. I couldn't do that." Gwen paused again. Then she added, "I couldn't do that, but I'd like to watch." Gwen pulled out her Idiot phone and scrolled through something. "Shit! I can't go out of town that weekend. Will you bring me a video?"

Sara replied, "I'll see what we can do."

The six weeks passed both agonizingly slowly and in no time. I have to admit the being more than a bit nervous as we boarded the plane for DFW. Sara was nervous, but also excited. I had not realized how big a fantasy public sex was for her. Now, she would get to live it out.

Rather than the overworked limo driver, Vivien picked us up at the Marriott. As she drove, she explained, "Howard had a place, he calls it his ranch, just outside town. It's a nice place, but the only thing reminiscent of cattle on it is Howard's BS. Anyway, he's invited about 50 of his 'good friends' to meet you two. I've met most of these people before. They're a lot like Howard. They'll probably treat you like Howard's hired strippers. There may be a few crude remarks as Howard's bourbon supply is depleted, but nothing worse than that I expect."

Vivien drove on in silence for a few moments. Then she said, "You remember that I said I expected that Howard would let me go at some point?"

We made affirmative noises.

"I preempted him. He was good about it though. I've got a two-years consulting agreement that obligates me to give him ten hours per month. In return, I get $50,000 per month whether he uses me or not. I'm out of here next week. Taking care of you two is basically my last assignment for Howard."

Another pause. "Oh, by the way, in case you're curious, Howard and I never had sex. Not that I objected. Like I told you, Howard will not take his clothes off in sight of other people. My time here has been two years of chastity."

Of course, Sara and I both assumed that Vivien was fucking Howard. I decided to leave that topic alone. Instead, I said, "That is a pretty good deal. What are you going to do now?"

"I'm not sure. I am a damn good accountant and business advisor. Do you have any suggestions?"

I looked at Sara, who nodded. "Well, we might be able to connect you to some people, but our contacts are all in the Midwest."

"That would be fine with me. Thank you. I would really appreciate that."

Soon enough, we were at French's "ranch." It was light enough that I could see a lot of flat landed fenced in, several outbuildings, and a main house that reminded me of "Southfork" on the old "Dallas" series. 

Vivien led us inside and through a large crowd into a large room that opened out to a patio and pool. Whatever furniture was usually there had been moved. Along the walls were tables of food. A bar and bartender were in one corner. French waived us towards him with a broad gesture. At the same time, he grabbed one of the young ladies serving canapés and said something to her. In almost an instant, two young men came into the room carrying a small riser.

French motioned for us to get on the riser. Sara and I stood there with most of our torsos above the guests' heads while French picked up a microphone. I could hear French's voice through speakers that must have been built into the walls or ceiling.

"If y'all'd give me your attention, I'd like you to meet our featured performers for tomorrow night, Bill and Yvonne (we'd agreed with French to use assumed names). Their Yankees, but they seem to be pretty good looking and I'm sure they'll give us a good show. I'm going to ask them to mingle. Say hello. I thought it would be more exciting if you get to know them a bit like regular folks before you see them naked and going at it. Thanks. Oh, and there's plenty of booze and food. Don't go home hungry or sober."

French motioned for us to get off of the risers. As we did, he walked away. A middle-aged couple came up to us.

"Right nice to meet you," the man said.

"We don't meet many folks in your line of work," the lady said.

"What line of work is that," Sara asked.

"You know, porn, sex workers," the woman responded.

"Actually, we're both lawyers," Sara retorted.

The couple walked away shaking their heads as if we were crazy. Maybe we were, but not the way they thought.

A younger man, who had been drinking a bit, came up, ogling Sara.

"How'd they pair the two of you up?"

"Actually, we are a couple. We've been together about seven years now," I replied.

The man took another swig of whiskey and ran his eyes over Sara.

"Before you ask," Sara said, "I don't hire out, not at any price."

The man looked miffed and walked away. Behind us, I heard female laughter. It was Vivien.

"You pegged him. That guy has offered me $5,000 to give him a blow job eight or nine times," Vivien said. "He refuses to believe that I'm not a hooker. He just thinks Howard has me on an exclusive retainer."

We met a lot of people that night. Not everyone was as boorish. One couple we talked to seemed genuinely interested in what our motivation was to put on our display.

The wife of the couple said, "Bill and I have been looking for ways to add excitement to our sex lives. Thinking about doing what you're going to be doing gets me aroused, but I couldn't bring myself to do it."

At one point in the evening, Sara and I were standing by ourselves. A very beautiful girl, probably about 21, came up to us.

"Hello. I'm Heather Smith (not her real name). Mr. French is friends with my parents. When I heard what was happening and that he had invited my parents, I talked them into bringing me and my boyfriend too. I admire you for doing this. I'd love for Greg and me to take your place, but my parents would shit if they knew that I like to have people see me naked. There's an unofficial nude beach down on South Padre. Greg and I go two or three times a year. We both love being naked. We've had several couples next to each other on the beach all doing it at the same time. We sort of see each other and that's fun. A whole arena full of people would be scary, but that's part of the thrill, right?"

I had to think that, whoever Greg was, he had lucked out. We chatted with the girl for a few minutes, sharing stories of social nudity.

Finally, Vivien collected us and drove us back to the hotel. "I think Howard's plan has worked. There does seem to be some serious anticipation for seeing the two of you naked having sex."

We slept late the next morning, and then headed to the hotel "fitness room" to do as hard a workout as facilities permitted. Both Sara and I had been working out hard since we decided to do this. If we were going to be naked in front of several thousand people, we wanted to be a buff as possible. Naturally, Sara had succeeded much better than me.

After our workout, Sara and I went back to our room and showered. Then we shaved each other's pubes. Might as well be as bare as possible.

Vivien picked us up to go to the arena around 5:00 p.m. Although it was fall, it was still quite warm in this part of Texas. Sara wore her form-fitting beige dress. Sara is sexy and beautiful any time, but, in the dress, she automatically induces a hard-on. At Sara's insistence, I was in a very tight polo shirt and tight slacks. I felt like I was wearing Spandex. At least, I wasn't worried about what people might see. Showing off everything was the whole point of the evening.

The arena lobby was packed. Vivien explained, "Howard has a lot of friends. Also, don't worry about the law. Howard cleared this beforehand with the Sheriff and District Attorney. They are both here tonight."

The lobby was so crowded that you could only move by rubbing against people. I felt more than a few hands touch my package. Sara told me later that she had many hands on her tits and ass. 

Everyone seemed to know that we were THE couple. We received a number of comments. Some a bit crude, but none hostile. The most common was how the speaker was looking forward to seeing us naked. I suppose that having us mingle while dressed increased the audience's anticipation. It had an effect on us. Talking to a complete stranger knowing that, in an hour or so, you would be in front of the stranger again completely naked and then fucking was a surprisingly erotic experience.

At one point, Sara leaned against me and whispered, "I'm so horny. I'm going to explode when we get out there."

My level of arousal was increasing dramatically also.

Finally, Vivien pulled us out of the crowd. "You've got about 45 minutes," she said. She led us down a hall and into a locker room. "You'll strip off in here. That door leads out onto the main floor. I'll gather your clothes so you get them back."

Sara looked at me. "We'd better strip off now so we don't have any clothes marks in our skin." Of course, neither of us had worn any underwear for exactly that reason.

We stripped with Vivien standing there. When she saw pronounced tan lines, she said, "I thought that you two are nudists."

"We are," Sara replied. "It was a pain tanning with suits on, but we thought that tan lines would focus attention where it ought to be."

We talked and paced for what seemed like a long time. Then there was a knock on the door. Vivien opened it and had a short conversation with the man who had knocked. Turning to us, Vivien asked, "Ready?"

Completely naked and bare foot, Sara and I walked through the door. It was fairly dark and I was conscious of people seated in the stands on both sides of us. 

As we walked, hand-in-hand, to point where the stands lowered to the floor, the bright light of a follow spot hit us. The arena seemed full. Everyone could see us now. I looked at Sara. The expression on her face told me that she was thrilled. We stopped, turned to each other, hugged, and shared a long kiss, with lots of tongue. As we broke our embrace, the crowd was applauding. At that moment, I was incredibly proud and happy to be standing there naked with Sara.

We slowly walked to the center of the arena floor. Just before we went up the steps onto the stage, I looked to my right. Seated in the front row, with an older couple to her left and a handsome young man to her right, was Heather whom we had talked with the night before. She looked right at me, winked, and then raised a hand with her fingers forming the "ok" ring.

Sara and I climbed onto the stage to more applause. There were people seated on all four sides of us, so we walked to each edge of the stage, waving and giving everyone our full frontals. When we reached that side of the stage, I looked at Heather again. She and the guy I presumed was her boyfriend were applauding vigorously. After winking again, Heather leaned and said something to her boyfriend. Then he kissed her.

Sara and I had thought long about how to drag things out to give French the hour he desired. To start, we made a second circle of the stage. This time, however, Sara turned her back to the audience, spread her legs, and bent over. Each side of the arena got the full pussy and asshole view of Sara. Probably the most beautiful thing ever seen in Texas.

After Sara had held her bent pose for several moments, she would straighten up, face the audience, and give them her 100,000 watt smile. Then she would lean over in front of me and stroke my dick a few times, as if to make me hard; although I was already hard. Then Sara would lift my dick up to show the audience my shaved balls. After everyone got their fill of testicles, Sara would gesture for me to turn around. I did and bent over. Sara would spread my cheeks to show the assembled my asshole. We did that routine once for each side of the stage. Hopefully, everyone saw all of us both.

At center stage, at our request, was a piece of furniture like a large divan covered with a red satin cloth. There was also a metal frame made of four vertical legs with horizontal bars at the top and half-way down holding it together. This had required some measurement. Sara went inside the frame and climbed up so that, with her hands on the top horizontals, her feet were on the middle ones. The frame was shaped like an inverted cone so that Sara's legs were spread apart but she could easily rest against any of the top horizontal bars.

I walked into the frame. Sara was positioned so my face was level with her mound. I stood very close to Sara. I could see her fluid dripping off of her cunt lips. I began licking it up, and then started to eat Sara properly. I put my arms around her, grabbing a handful of each cheek. We had, sort of, rehearsed this. The plan was for me to go slowly, but to get Sara off orally once.

I worked slowly but steadily. I loved the taste of Sara on my tongue. It took probably about 15 minutes, but the Sara came forcefully and loudly. She wrapped her legs around my head and neck. I let her rest on me while my face was buried in her shaven patch.

After regaining herself, Sara said "now." With that, she let go of the top horizontals and fell down through the frame into my arms. We hugged each other by our asses and had another very long kiss. Then Sara took my hand and led me out of the frame.

Sara led me to the divan. She lay down on her back with her legs spread as far apart as she could without straining. I stood beside the divan with my dick so hard that it hurt. This part was French's idea. The divan was on a turntable which began to slowly rotate so that each part of the arena could view us from each angle.

After we had done two rotations, I mounted Sara and entered her. She was so wet, I slid in easily. As I did, Sara leaned up and said in my ear, "This is the best moment of my life. I love you."

Sara and I had practiced (a sacrifice, right?) and could fuck for a long time without coming if we kept it slow and easy. That is what we did for about another 15 or 20 minutes. I made my thrusts somewhat exaggerated so it was clear in the top row exactly what we were doing. I glanced as the stage rotated by them. Heather and her boyfriend had their hands in each other's laps.




The Arena



Finally, Sara decided that it was time to get serious. She pinched my ass, which was the signal to change position. We figured that it would be more appealing if we came with Sara on top. I pulled out and rolled off to Sara's left side. That put me on my back with my hard on sticking up. Sara kneeled beside me. She took my dickhead between her left thumb and forefinger, holding me straight up, while her right hand gestured for the audience to look at my dick, glistening with her fluid.

Finally, Sara straddled me and slid down onto me. Sara's face, stunning at any time, is especially beautiful during sex. The look on her face at that moment was probably the sexiest thing I have ever seen. That coupled with feeling her all around my dick almost caused me to come right then. I hastily reminded myself that I had a job to do.

Sara also had a job to do and she went at it like a fury, riding me vigorously. It was quickly apparent that Sara had lost control. I let myself go too. Fuck French's time limits. My whole world shrank to Sara above me and the extraordinary sensations in my dick. 

I knew that Sara had come again when she shrieked, convulsed, and collapsed on me. Just then, I had the most powerful eruption in my life. So forceful that it hurt, putting me squarely at the intersection of pleasure and pain. That was the last thing I remembered for, I'm told, several minutes. I came to and realized that I had passed out naked on a stage in an arena full of people with my dick in my lover. Sara still lay on top of me. After another moment, her eyes opened, she smiled, and gave me a third very long kiss.

Somewhat weakly, we stood up from the divan and faced the audience. Everything was silent. Then Sara ran a hand between her legs. She put a finger covered with my come and her fluid to my lips. I took her finger in my mouth and sucked it. Then we faced each other, embraced, and had our fourth very long kiss.

As we broke that embrace, the audience started their applause which quickly grew exponentially in volume. We stood, waving at the audience as the center of the stage continued to rotate. As we rotated back to face Heather, she and her boyfriend were standing (as was most of the audience now). Her boyfriend's pants were unzipped and his hard-on was sticking out. Heather grabbed the hem of her dress and lifted it way up, showing us that she wore nothing underneath.

The stage did another full rotation, and then stopped when we were facing the steps. We climbed down and, still in the spotlight, walked back through the stands to the locker room.

Vivien was waiting just inside the door, breathing a little hard. "That was probably the most arousing thing I've seen," she said. "I couldn't help it. I got myself off while I watched you."

Sara and I each kissed Vivien on a cheek. "We're glad that you could share some of the pleasure," Sara said. "I hope that we will share pleasure more intimately with you in the future."

Vivien looked at us both for a second. "I'd really like that, "she answered. "Now, there is a shower in there. You probably want to shower, but don't get dressed. I've got your clothes. Howard is entertaining his high-rollers in the luxury boxes. Screw Howard. I've talked to a few people and we've rented a bar a couple blocks from here for a private party. You're appropriately dressed already. I think you'll enjoy it."

Sara and I were both exhausted and exhilarated. We stood under the hot water holding each other for several minutes. Finally, Sara smiled and asked, "Was it worth the trip?"

"Definitely," I responded. "Of course, anywhere with you is worth the trip." That earned me another kiss.

We toweled off and spent some time drying and combing our hair. Vivien had duffel with our clothes over one shoulder. We followed her outside to her car, naked in the Texas night. She went by a nice-looking bar which had its windows covered over, turned, and parked behind the bar. Still naked, we followed her into the bar.

Inside were about 25 people. Michelle, French's gorgeous receptionist was there as was the middle-aged couple we had talked with at French's house the night before. Towards the back, to my surprise, stood Heather and her boyfriend along with a handsome couple who appeared to be roughly my age.

A cute redhead stood behind the bar. "I didn't get to watch you, but I applaud what you did. Your drinks are on the house." All I wanted then was a beer. Sara had a shot of rum and a large ice water.

The bar was small, clean, and cozy. A football game played silently on a big screen TV behind the bar. Jazz music played in the background.

Vivien moved to the center of the small room. "This whole thing was Howard French's idea. We all know Howard and we know that he's very rich and very strange. For once, Howard had a great idea. We all enjoyed what you did tonight and respect you for doing it." Vivien looked around the room and applause broke out.

Vivien continued. "Part of Howard's strangeness is that he cannot stand to be seen naked by anyone. Not all of us suffer from that problem. You two have shown all of yourselves to Texas tonight, so we thought you ought to see a bit of Texas too."

With that, Vivien kicked off her shoes and began unbuttoning her blouse. Looking around, I saw that everyone in the room was undressing. Soon, there were 27 naked people in the room. I turned and looked behind the bar. 28. The cute redheaded barmaid was now wearing only her skin too.

Vivien clothed was a very attractive lady. However, clothed was not how Vivien should be. Naked she was almost as beautiful as Sara. Unfortunately, the same could not be said about Michelle. While every lady is beautiful naked, Michelle's apparent beauty clothed relied heavily on external support.

Sara and I sat naked on barstools while a quiet, convivial party went on around us. Heather walked up with her boyfriend and the older couple, all four completely naked. All four looked good naked and I did not see a tan line among them.

Heather looked at us. "Thank you very much for this evening." She hugged and kissed me and then hugged and kissed Sara. Gesturing to the young man, Heather said, "This is my boyfriend Greg." Greg and I shook hands.

Greg and Heather separated and Heather gestured the older couple forward. Both were quite fit and looked great naked.

Heather made another introduction. "These are my parents, John and Amy."

John extended his hand to shake. "We enjoyed the evening. You were very courageous. I hope that it was as much fun as it appeared to be."

Sara answered him, "It was better for us than you can possibly imagine."

Amy, who was a lovely lady, spoke up. "We have more to thank you for. John and I have been going to Club Orient at least annually for years. We love being nude. We kept that hidden from Heather because we thought she was the prude. In talking to her about why she wanted to be here tonight, we found out that she's been going nude and South Padre while we've been going nude on St. Martin. Now, the family can be nude together."

Heather interjected, "Mom and Dad are going to Club Orient for Thanksgiving and their taking Greg and me. Turkey and pie with no clothes on should be great." We were happy to help bring Heather and her parents together as a clothes-free family.

Vivien came back just then, looking wonderful in only her skin. Looking at Sara, she said, "I have a question. Of course, you wouldn't use condoms for something like this, but what birth control do you use?"

Sara laughed. "Ordinarily, I'm on the pill. I went off of it a few weeks ago. We haven't had sex since we were last down here. Harry and I thought that the chance of conceiving a child in front of 8,000 people was too good an opportunity to miss. We'll see if it happened. I'll go back on tomorrow."

Amy, Heather's mother, laughed and clapped. "I really like how you Yankees think."



The Arena Aftermath



Sara and I knew that there was a risk of consequences from our performance in Texas. Still, we thought that we were reasonably safe. True, we had fucked and sucked naked on stage in front of about 8,000 people. But, we had done it nearly a thousand miles from home. Neither of us had any intention of going back to Texas. Only a few people in the West Central Texas town where we had performed knew our real names and contact information. Our agreement with Howard French (not his real name), the sponsor of our "event" was that no pictures were taken.

We had been home about a week when we got an e-mail from Vivien, French's accountant and ostensible girlfriend. Vivien was leaving French and had become, we thought, a friend. The e-mail said that, unbeknownst to us, closed-circuit TV cameras had shown every second of our performance on the arena's mega screen TV. That wasn't bad in itself, but, of course, the arena's closed-circuit TV system was computer-driven so a complete video of our performance was saved on French's servers.

The last two paragraphs of Vivien's e-mail to us went as follows:

"As you know, I'm leaving here. I've been cleaning up things in the office and I deleted the video of you from every place I could find it. To my knowledge, only two copies remain. One is attached. What you did was so beautiful; I had to keep a copy for myself. I hope that you don't mind."

"I also attached a copy of my CV. As I told you when you were here, I'd like to get back to the Midwest. You know the deal Howard gave me, so you know that I really don't need to work at all. But, I can't just lie around eating bonbons. If you know anyone doing something interesting whom you could put me in touch with, I'll be forever indebted."

I suppose that you could have read that as implied blackmail, but we didn't. It so happened that Sara and I did know someone in the major city in the next state west, about a hundred miles away. Leslie ran a business doing event marketing and consulting. She had started several years ago promoting dirt-track car races. She'd moved up to county fairs, and then got work with a couple of state fairs. Now she was working with some minor league baseball teams and had recently signed a contract to consult with a WNBA franchise. Leslie's husband, Martin, was a structural engineer. He had left a large engineering shop about four years ago to start his own firm, and was doing very well. Leslie and Marty were also committed nudists. That was how we had met them. They were also very good people and very good friends. Sara forwarded Vivien's CV to Leslie.

We put the video of our performance on a thumb drive and took it home to watch. Watching ourselves, naked in the bright lights, with spectators faces in the background, show ourselves off and then do oral and vaginal sex brought back much of the intense eroticism of that night. I was surprised that, playing the video in real time, we had been on stage almost exactly the hour which French had requested. It had seemed only about half as long. Sara and I fucked with a special intensity that night. We were both a bit disappointed, though, that no one was watching.

Gwen, our secretary, had learned what we were up to before we left for Texas. Since we had been back, she kept teasing us about seeing the video. I probably would have kept quiet about there actually being a video. However, Sara is compulsively honest and candid and told Gwen that we had a video of ourselves. That disclosure led to the three of us sitting in a conference room in our office while Gwen watched a video of me eating and fucking Sara in front of an audience.

Gwen watched the video in silence. When it was over, she said, "Wow! You guys are something. I don't think that I could do it, but it must have been fun."

Sara responded, "It was the most exciting thing that I've done in my life so far."

Apart from showing Gwen the video, things went on fairly normally. We heard from both Leslie and Vivien that Vivien had worked out deals to be an independent contractor to both Leslie's and Marty's businesses and was moving to their town. Given how readily Vivien stripped off in the Texas bar after our performance, we hoped that Les and Marty would bring her into the lifestyle and that we'd be seeing more of her.

Right around the Holidays, we got a call from Amy. We had given Amy and her daughter, Heather, our real contact information because they seemed like good people and people we'd like as friends. Apparently, that feeling was mutual. Amy was calling to tell us that she, her husband John, Heather, and Heather's boyfriend Greg were going to Club Orient for ten days in January. Would we like to join them?

After checking our calendars, Sara and I gave an enthusiastic "yes." January in the Midwestern US is not the region's best time of year. Several days naked on a Caribbean beach with good company seemed a desirable alternative. 

We had a very quiet set of Holidays. It was a gorgeous day when we met Amy, Heather, John, and Greg at Princess Juliana airport. When we got to the resort, we hit a glitch. We thought that we had reserved two adjoining chalets. The resort had only reserved one. The resort staff was very sorry, but, with it being winter in North America and Europe, they were fully booked. They did offer to move an extra bed into the chalet. What were we going to do?

The chalets are intended to sleep up to four. Adding two people made things a bit cramped. Of course, after a couple of hours nude on the beach, dinner nude on the grounds, and a few drinks, all three couples were getting amorous.

Back in the chalet, there was really no privacy. Each couple tried to hide under the sheets, but it was blatantly obvious that we were all going at it. Actually, it was pretty nice hearing the sounds of John and Amy and Heather and Greg making love while Sara and I pleasured each other.

The next morning, I had the privilege of sharing the shower outside the chalet with Amy.

Grinning, Amy said, "It sounded like you two had a fun evening."

Grinning back, I said, "Well, if my ears weren't lying, John hit your spot."

Grinning more broadly, Amy said, "Yes, he did and he was rewarded."

"I heard that," I said. We both laughed.

After toweling off, we walked back inside. Everyone else was up and Sara was making coffee (God love her). Amy walked to the center of the room.

"Well, we all know that we all had fun last night. We're so close together in here that I don't see any point in being coy about it. Of course, we have to behave outside the chalet, but, in here, I say that we just be open about the sex."

No one objected to that house rule. The six of us spent a very relaxing day naked on the beach. We even survived an influx of cruise ship day trippers who wanted to see the "nudy beach." None of us minded being seen. A few of the cruise ship folks stripped off themselves. Despite the signs forbidding photography, quite a few of the ones who stripped had some special pictures for their albums.

John and Amy gamble a bit. That night, they got dressed and took the rental car into Phillipsburg to go to the casino. Heather and John and Amy and I weren't interested in that. Just after Amy and John left, Sara and I wrapped pareos around our waists and walked off the nude beach to a small stand selling fresh cooked fish and rice. We brought four meals back to the chalet and the four of us had our second nude dinner on the porch.

After dinner, we had a few drinks and talked. After the dark, the sea breeze slackened and we got a few bugs, which moved us inside. Heather sat down on the sofa and put her feet up on the coffee table. That pose left her fully exposed.

"It is funny, and I don't understand it, but I really enjoy people seeing my naked body," Heather said. "I know all three of you are looking at my pussy and that feels great to me. At the same time, I feel good looking at Greg's and Harry's dicks. I even like that Sara is looking at me and I like looking at Sara. What is it? Am I sick?"

Sara laughed. "No, you are not sick. The naked human body is an attractive and sexy thing to see. As for people looking at you, I enjoy it too. Part of it is probably breaking the taboo. I also take pride in my body and put work into it. If people get pleasure looking at me, that's great. And, Heather you're very beautiful. You should never be ashamed of or hide your body."

Greg and I thought it best to let the girls take the lead on this topic.

Heather looked at me, "What about you, Harry. Obviously, you don't mind people seeing you. What is it?"

"I think Sara probably explained it as well as I can. I don't know exactly, but, as you said, it gives me a good feeling. Of course, being naked is much more comfortable than being clothed."

"What about the sex?" Heather asked.

"Sex is a wonderful thing. I don't know why society decided that it should be hidden. I'm proud to give physical proof of my love for Sara."

Heather laughed. "As well as you two do it, I'm not surprised that you want to show off." Heather paused. "Don't worry Greg, You're great too,"

Greg smiled. "Thank you. You aren't so bad yourself."

We talked an hour or so longer. Then Heather and Sara got the idea that we might as well re-arrange things so that the three beds were next to each other. That turned into real work, but we got it done. Then the four of us showered together outside in the darkness. Sara was riding me, and Heather was riding Greg, when Amy and John returned from the casino. Amy and John quickly stripped and put the third bed to similar use.

The next morning, I walked up to the store to get a paper. When I got back, only John and Greg were in the chalet. Pointing in the direction of the bar/restaurant, John said "The girls are having a pow-wow."

The girls walked back about a half hour later. Coming into the chalet, Amy again took the lead.

"We've talked. We're all having a great time and, counting today, we have seven days left before we fly out. We girls were thinking what we could do to make this trip really special. Well, our idea is, to put it bluntly, to partner swap. Obviously, John can't hook up with Heather, so here's what we want to do. Sara will pair up with John. I'll pair up with Greg, you're not my son yet. Heather will pair with Harry. We'll try it for today and, if it goes ok, we can keep doing it. The idea is that the new pairs will spend the day, and tonight, as if they had come with each other. Are you guys ok with that?"

Sara and I have an open relationship. Our love for each other involves much more than just sex and neither of us is jealous if one gives and receives pleasure with another partner. I wasn't so sure that this was a great idea for the other four. I saw special potential for trouble with the Amy/Greg pairing. However, everyone seemed to like the idea, and it wasn't my place to act like everyone else's parent.

The idea was quickly accepted and Heather plopped her naked butt next to mine on the sofa. "Well, partner, what are we doing today? I'd like to do something active."

"What about snorkeling? I can see if the water sports people can outfit us and take us to Tintamarre."

"Great idea."

Amy spoke up. "If we're going separate ways today, how about we meet back here around 4:30. There's a great restaurant in Grand Case. I know it means getting dressed, but we can have some fun with that too, and the restaurant is worth it." Everyone agreed.

I established that we could get fins and masks and that the water sports people could take Heather and me to Tintamarre in a half hours. Back at the chalet, I asked in anyone else wanted to come.

"No. You two have fun together," Greg responded.

Heather and I quickly packed waterproof bags with food, drink, and sunscreen. The boat ride out to the small island in Orient Bay was quick. Unfortunately, we were not alone. Two Dutch couples went out with us. We were dropped off, warned about currents, and left. One of the Dutch ladies said to me, in a fairly heavy accent, "Don't worry about us. We give you room."

Heather and I walked around with our gear and finally decided that the side of the island towards the northwest, towards all the newer non-CO resorts on Orient Bay looked most promising. We donned our gear and got into the water.

The fish and marine landscape around the small island really isn't that great. It may be better with scuba, but I haven't done that here and really haven't seen anyone diving in Orient Bay. However, swimming behind Heather watching her bare legs and butt more than made the excursion worthwhile. We snorkeled for quite a while, and then walked back up the beach. Our sunscreen was supposed to be waterproof, but why take chances. Heather and I covered each other with more sunscreen. Heather paid particular attention to my dick and balls.

"I sure don't want those burned," she giggled.

After coating each other, which took an inordinately long time, we drank some water. Sitting on the small island's beach, we could see people moving on the main beach across the water.

"Harry, do you think that those people could tell if we were out here fucking?" Heather asked.

"I'm not sure."

Heather giggled. "Do you want to find out?"

I rolled onto my side and kissed one of Heather's nipples.

"I guess you do want to find out," Heather giggled again. She gently pushed me flat on my back and leaned over me. As she began to kiss me, her hand fondled my balls. Then she began stroking my shaft. I was kissing Heather and rolling one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger as it hardened. Heather abruptly lay back on her back and spread her legs on the sand. 

"You on top, she said softly.

I got on top of Heather and slowly slid into her. The look on her face was almost enough by itself to make me come. My ass was faced towards Orient Beach.

Heather whispered in my ear, "Go slow. Let's give a good show."

That said, Heather seemed very sensitive. Before I was close to coming, Heather was there, and nearly hyperventilated. I don't know about people on Orient Beach, but as my focus broadened from just Heather, I saw the two Dutch couples watching from a discrete distance.

As we ate our food, Heather apologized. "You didn't come. I'll make it up to you later." Sooner than I wished, the boat came to take us and the Dutch back to the resort.

It was only mid-afternoon. Heather and I walked the resort. Noticing that the tennis courts were empty, she gestured, "Want to play?"

I'm rotten at tennis. But, we borrowed some rackets and I bought a can of balls at the store. We warmed up and then flipped for service. Before my first serve, Heather turned her back to me and crouched. "Will you check my form for receiving serve?"

Her form was excellent. Unfortunately, Heather was a good tennis player. She also looked great playing naked, especially as she began to sweat. By the time she had blanked me 6-0, we, or rather she, had a few spectators.

"That's enough. This sun is frying me," Heather said. I think she was really bored. I wasn't much competition. 

We returned the rackets and walked back to the chalet. We washed each other under the outdoor shower and went inside. Heather's mother, Amy, said. "Good. You're back. Let's start getting ready to go eat."

I saw what Amy meant by having fun being clothed when she pulled a short sundress over her head with nothing underneath. Heather quickly put on a short white dress that seemed translucent. It cinched below her breasts and emphasized them. The skirt flared out, but stopped above mid-thigh.

Standing behind Heather, I lifted the hem of her dress up, exposing her gorgeous bare ass. "Any breeze and you'll be showing this," I said.

"Hopefully, I'll show more than just that," Heather replied with a laugh.

Heather then dug through my bag to find a tight polo and a pair of pretty short shorts. "Commando only," she instructed. I put the shirt and shorts on. "Sit," Heather commanded. I did. She squatted down level with my legs. "Good, I can see the head of you dick when you sit. That works."

Just then, Sara and John came out of the other room. Sara had a pareo wrapped tightly around her and clearly wore nothing underneath. She looked good enough to eat right there. John wore an interesting tan garment structured like a very long shirt that stopped above his knees. With it, he wore a belt. Like me, Greg had a polo and short shorts. There wasn't an undergarment among the six of us.

"This could be fun," Amy said.

I feared some resistance to our attire at the beachfront restaurant in Grand Case. My concern was unfounded. We were, technically, dressed. I also suppose that the restaurant and servers were used to just about everything during high season. Still, I felt a bit unusual sitting in a pretty nice restaurant with my dick sticking part way out of one leg of my shorts. I'm sure several other diners noticed, but no one said anything. Perhaps their attention was diverted by Sara, Heather, and Amy, who all looked stunning.

The meal was superb. The light was fading as Heather and I took a short walk along the beachfront. It was high season, so we were not the only strollers. Despite my teasing of Heather before we left the resort, Grand Case is somewhat on the lee side of the island and I really didn't expect any revealing gusts. One came, however, blowing Heather's dress up to the cinch below her breasts. For a moment or two, her bare lower body was on full and glorious display. Several people noticed and a couple gave Heather a round of applause. She took a bow, which exposed her ass again.

"That was great," Heather said. "I wish I could just strip this off and walk naked."

I hadn't seen any of the police who were usually ubiquitous on the French side of the island. "Maybe you can," I said. "If any authority shows up, we can plead the ignorant American defense."

That was all Heather needed. She undid the cinch and pulled the dress over her head. Naked with heeled sandals, Heather looked gorgeous, sexy, and elegant. We walked back to where Sara, John, Amy, and Greg stood outside the restaurant.

"A bit off of the reservation, aren't we?" chided John.

"It seems to me that Heather has a good idea," Sara said as she undid her pareo and exposed herself.

"I guess I'll have to join in," Amy sighed as she pulled her dress over her head.

The street lights were on now. Looking at the three naked women, I doubted that I had ever seen anything more beautiful. But, our rental car was parked two blocks away. This could be interesting.

Once again, Heather took the lead. She unbuttoned and unzipped my shorts and pulled them to my ankles. I figured that there was no point arguing, so I stepped out of them. "Arms up Harry," Heather commanded. She pulled my shirt up and off and bunched it with her dress and my shorts. We linked arms and walked naked through Grand Case.

For some reason, John and Greg stayed clothed, such as they were. This led to an interesting arrangement when we got in the car. The front seat was ceded to John and Greg, partially on the theory that the driver should be wearing something. I was put in the middle of the back. Sara and Amy got in on my right and left. Then Heather crawled over them and sat on my lap.

It was slightly embarrassing when I got out of the car at the resort with a hard-on. Among the six of us, it was no issue. But, the very cute girl who ran the resort store was walking to her car in the parking lot just as I got out. I had flirted with her politely each morning as I got my newspaper. Sara, Amy, and Heather made enough noise that the store girl looked and saw me standing at attention. She smiled, waived, and kept on her way.

We went back to the chalet where John and Greg disrobed, and I relaxed. Then we walked up to the bar for a nightcap or two. Coming back to the chalet, we were all in a great mood and everyone felt frisky. At Sara's suggestion, we pushed the three beds together, as they would remain for the rest of our stay. Soon, Heather was riding me. To one side, Greg and Amy were in 69.