****** Slave of Pain 4: Slave Fighter by Rage ******
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Slave of Pain 4: Slave Fighter

He stared at her as she sat on the bed, his gaze admiring the long, lean, lithe
body the months with him had shaped. The soft swell of her breasts, the curve
of her thighs and hips, the soft rise of her mound. He wanted to fight her and
take her, but instead he sighed and continued to pack.

"Master," She began softly. "I know you have to go, but what am I supposed to
do without you? Three weeks is a long time without being able to fight."

He nodded. "I know, love. I've heard of a club called 'slave fights'. Maybe you
could go to the club and Marcus might know something about it."

"It won't be the same, Master," she sighed.

He grabbed her and pulled her into a deep kiss. "I know it won't, but maybe you
could find something good in it."

"I'll try, Master." He closed his suitcase and she followed him downstairs.

"When I get back, I want to fight you, little one." He said as he turned and
cupped her face. Placing a gentle kiss on her lips as he turned and opened the
door. He looked back as he slid into his car and she watched him drive away.
She closed the door and looked around the house, feeling as empty as it was.

She headed upstairs to get dressed. It didn't take her long to pull on the jean
shorts that were fringed, and the white T-shirt, and the midnight black,
leather, boots with the six inch heels. She grabbed the black leather jacket he
had given her. As she made her way downstairs, she stopped and grabbed the
phone.

Marcus and her had become friends, she taught him some of the moves she had
used on him, and he did the same for her. They enjoyed each other's company,
and understood each other. She dialed his phone number and waited.

"Hello?" His voice came over the phone.

"Marcus, it's Jesse."

"Hey, girl, what's up?" He laughed.

"What do you know about a club called 'slave fights?"

The club was just like the club her master had taken her to. The setup was a
bit different and there was a guard outside the door, but otherwise it wasn't
much different. Marcus led her over to a table and they sat down. He ordered
them a couple of soda's and after they were served he finally looked at Jesse.

"This is where I come when Master doesn't need me. Here, anything goes.
Especially fighting. It can be in the ring, " He pointed over to the boxing
ring. "Or in a private room. It can just be a fight or like what we do. Don't
use your real name here. Take a name to use."

"What's the name you use here?" She asked as she looked around the club.

"Mine's Destruction. I like it, and Master gave it to me." He admitted with a
smile.

"First thing my master ever thought about me was that I was a slave to pain. So
that's what I'll be. A Slave of pain." she smiled.

"Cool name, " he smiled. "Descriptive too."

"So what do we do? I mean, how do -" She was cut off by a woman approaching
their table smiling at Marcus.

"Yo, Destruction. Long time no see. Who's the chick?" The women pointed to
Jesse with a glare at her.

"Tiffany, this is Slave of pain. A friend of mine and fellow slave fighter.
She's good, so I'd watch my step if I were you."

"Oh really? So are you two going to fight tonight?" She made the question sound
like a demand.

Jesse shook her head. "We did that already, child. I want someone else to
fight."

"CHILD!" The woman screeched and turned on Jesse. Jesse stood and set her
stance. Feet firmly apart and set for balance. Her arms slightly bent, ready to
defend or fight. "How dare you call me child. I'm a Mistress and you aren't
worth my time."

"You weren't worth my time when you walked over here, child. If you've got a
problem with that, I'm sure I can help you out." Jesse stepped closer to the
woman and hissed. "I'm sure you'd enjoy going a round with me. I'll even let
you take the first blow."

The woman paled and turned to Marcus. "Destroyer, teach your friend some
manners."

"Tiffany, I thought you knew, slave fighters have no manners at all," he
laughed.

Jesse smiled at Marcus and looked back to the woman. "You gonna fight me or
stand there with your mouth open, child?"

The woman turned on her heels and walked away, but Jesse could tell she wanted
to run.

They sat and drank their sodas. Marcus finally wandered off with a Mistress who
had come over to him. Tiffany sat staring at her, even as her slave tried to
gain her attention. Jesse finally stood, and walked away from the table,
wandering around the room. She was bored, and needed a fight. She wasn't paying
too much attention when she felt a hand on her arm and she turned with her fist
ready to deliver a blow.

"Not finding what you want, lady?" A huge man asked from his chair. His salt
and pepper hair was long, almost to his waist. He had tied it back in a loose
tail. Grayish green eyes stared at her. Muscles upon muscles defined his bare
chest. If he had stood, she knew he would tower over her.

"No. Not finding what I need at all." she admitted and pulled her arm out of
his grasp.

"New here? Haven't seen you around before." He smiled as his eyes roamed over
her body.

"Yep."

"Sit down, my name's Overland." He pointed to the chair in front of him and she
slowly sat down.

"Slave of pain," she answered slowly. Looking him over the same way he did to
her.

"So, Slave, what you looking for?" he asked as he ordered a scotch and soda and
she requested another soda.

"A fight. I'm a fight slave."

He nodded, unsurprised. "Where's your master?"

"Not around. Why? Do I have to have a master to be here?" she questioned as she
stared at him.

"No, not at all. You wear a collar, girl, just made me ask. Come on, I'll help
you get that fight you want."

He pulled her up to the stage and cleared his throat to catch everyone's
attention. "YO ALL!" He called out as he waited for silence to fall. When it
did he looked at her. "This here's Slave of pain, a fight slave. She's new and
looking for a fight. I'll let her tell you what she wants."

Stepping back, he guided her to the mike and smiled. "Go on. I know you ain't
shy, girl."

She cleared her throat and closed her eyes. "I'm Slave of pain. I fight down
and dirty, no holds barred, hard and nasty street fight. Taught by my Master.
During the fight you can do anything. If you win it continues on with your
will, if you lose I walk away. So if you want me, got to fight me, otherwise
leave me be."

She stepped back and Overland guided her back to his table. They were stopped
by a man with a knife in his hand. "Anything?"

She nodded. "Anything but death."

"Let's take it private," he grinned and looked at Overland.

"Room four is empty," Overland said as he handed her the key and walked away.

She followed the man to the room and unlocked it, following him in. She watched
as he removed his shoes and jacket and put them in a trunk in the corner. She
followed suit and then turned to him, she looked him over. Blond hair hung
around his shoulders, blue eyes shined in the dim lighting, he wasn't overly
muscled but still well built. He removed his shirt and smiled at her. His chest
was well defined, hairless and bronze colored.

They stood across from each other and she set her stance. He did the same and
then looked at her. "So if I pin you against the wall and strip you, I can do
anything to you? Fight you and fuck you if I get the chance?"

"That's the rules," she nodded.

"Great!" He turned away and then spun in a wicked kick that cracked against her
ribs. She cried out and crumpled to one knee as she grabbed her ribs. Feeling
no break, she looked up at him and grinned as she swept him off his feet and he
fell to the ground. She came up and dropped her foot into his groin. He growled
and moaned as his hands reached to cup his manhood. She could tell he wanted to
throw up from the pain, but he held it and she kicked him in the ribs.

She could have pressed her advantage but she wasn't taught to do that, so she
stepped back and set her stance again. "Come on, little boy, come on fight me."
Calling out to him caused her ribs to ache. She'd have a bruise there in a few
hours. It was worth it though, for the look on his face, the roar of anger as
he got to his feet and charged her. She waited till the last second and then
stepped out of the way.

He ran into the wall, full force. He crumpled to his knees and shook his head.
The fight went on in this vane for a while. He occasionally caught her with a
few lucky blows, she struck hard and fast and taunted him when she could. He
would let his anger fill him, and blind himself in the fight. His blows were
wild, and rarely struck their intended targets. She dodged them easily. Until
he picked up a chair and slammed it over her head. She fell to the ground and
tried to get up, but he was on top of her and pulling her arms behind her back.
She felt the rough texture of rope as her wrists and shoulders were tied behind
her.

As she kicked and struggled, he tied her ankles to a spreader bar, then slipped
a collar around her neck, as he rolled her over. Chains attached to either side
were fasted to rings set in the floor. She tried to move and found she
couldn't. She closed her eyes and growled low. She had been brought down by a
lucky blow. One lucky blow.

"This means you're mine, doesn't it? I have claim on your body, right?" He
demanded as he began to cut off her clothes, she could feel the sharp point of
the knife against her skin.

"Only for now," she growled angrily.

"Oh, I know. If I let you get free you'll fight me again. I ain't going to let
that happen." He pulled the remnants of her shirt away from her body and slowly
cut her bra off. She tried not to struggle, not wanting to be cut.

"Now would I do that? Would I try to fight you again? A deal's a deal. You won,
you get my body," she said softly as he began to cut away her shorts.

"Listen, Slave, I know you would. I ain't stupid. No rules, no holds barred.
Means anything can happen." He finished cutting off her shorts and pulled the
rags off her body. He ran his hand over her stomach and the black panties
covering her sex. She closed her eyes and tried not to feel his hand.

"What do you have planned?" she asked.

"Whatever comes to mind," he laughed.

She sighed as she felt the blade of the knife lay cold against her thigh.
Knowing there was nothing she could do.

She lay naked before him. Her legs spread open revealing the flower of her sex.
His eyes roamed over her as he toyed with his knife. She was beautiful, and
totally his to do anything he wanted to. He moved closer and ran the
unsharpened edge of the knife over the inside of her thigh.

He watched her skin flinch and heard her soft gasp as she felt the cold steel
touch her. He could see the muscles in her legs tense up and he laughed.
Running the knife over her inner thigh again, up to her sex and slowly parting
her nether lips with the point. She started to struggle and then stopped. He
grinned and ran the tip over her clit. She gasped and hissed. "No! Don't cut
me." "Knives don't always cut, Slave. But their touch can be worse when it
doesn't. Besides I ain't going to kill you. So why worry about it?" He laughed
and ran the blade's tip over her clit again.

"It's not the knife I'm worried about. I don't want to be cut. No blood,
understood?"

"I ain't stupid, but if you move one more time, you will be cut. So don't
move."

She felt the blade of the knife against her nether lips and gasped. The metal
was so cold against her heated flesh. He laughed and ran the tip to her
entrance and she gasped wanting to get to him and trying not to move.

"Ever been fucked by a knife? Ever feel it slip into you and fuck you so hard
and deep with the point crashing into your insides? Ever feel that, slut?"

She bit her lip and groaned, she didn't want to antagonize this man. She didn't
want to be cut but she definitely wanted out of this. She tried to stay still
and gasped as she felt the blade slip inside of her. "Nononononononono," She
screamed. "Please, don't. Not with the knife."

"I won your body, remember. I get to do anything to it I want."

"Not with the knife, please. I'll do anything, damnit. Not with the knife!" She
tried to remain still but she was struggling against her bonds. Panic was
setting in and she couldn't fight against it. She didn't want to die here,
alone without her Master.

When she felt him pull the knife away and a moment later slam it deep into her
sex she screamed and passed out.

Waking was the hardest thing she had ever done. She struggled against the
nightmare that felt. Struggling wildly in her bonds she gasped, her body was
reacting to the thrusting of the knife. Writhing uncontrollably as she moaned.
Suddenly, she realized the knife blade wasn't inside her, but the handle of the
knife.

"Fear is the best weapon against you. Did you know that? With fear I can make
you believe anything I want to." he laughed as he thrust the handle deep and
her hips rose to meet it. "I told you I wasn't going to cut you, but you didn't
believe me."

His hand was pinching and pulling at her nipples and she moaned as she thrust
her hips against the handle. "Fear takes you where I want you. It makes you
soft, and weak. I like the fear on your face. I like the fear that you felt. I
loved the way you screamed. Now cum, slut. Cum for your fear Master."

She screamed and came, arching her hips high as her inner muscles throbbed
around the handle. When she lay panting and gasping, he touched the tip of the
blade against her clit. Then stood, shoving the tip into her entrance again and
smiling. "Remember, Slave, fear is your true Master."

Laughing he left the room, leaving her bound with the knife laying just inside
of her. She lay there hoping Marcus would be the one to find her, and thanking
God that her Master hated knives.

This story is part of White_Shadow's_Nasty_Stories.
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