The Contract

After both contestants were in place, three women, also in black T-shirts, came out into the arena and began attaching the wires to the contestant's nipples using stick-on electrodes. They next connected a metal dildo to one of the wires and inserted it in the contestant's ass. Finally they used a clip to attach a fourth electrode to both women's clit.

The burly security people came out and pressed both contestants over at the waist so that their heads were directly over the short belt pieces. "Open wide," one of them said, and one of the crew women pulled upward on the belt and held it in the contestant's mouth. "Bite down," ordered the security man.

"Once the contest begins," said the MC, "the level of the shocks will be automatically increased until one of the contestants lets go of the mouthpiece." Turning to the two contestants he continued, "Remember, you don't have to beat the machine. You only have to beat your opponent. The first one to release the mouthpiece loses and goes into the losers bracket." Looking up into the darkness beyond the audience, he said, "Ready. ... Begin!"

A large display lowered from the ceiling. There was a digital meter that currently said "0.0" and large clock with a single hand set to 0.

The clock began turning and the digital meter moved to "0.5." Each click of the clock hand took it forward one mark on its face, and with each click of the clock, the meter went up by 0.5.

When the meter read 1.5, both women began to squirm and grunt. At 3.0 the feet of both were dancing on their platforms. At 4.0 their grunts became wails through their clenched teeth. And at 5.5 one of the women screamed out loudly and pulled herself up straight, the belt snapping from her mouth and back to its original position on the top of the black box.

"We have a winner!" yelled the MC. "...and a loser."

The security men came and released the winner from her cuffs. She went to the risers on the left and stood on the first row. The stage hands used their oversized cart to move the loser to the first position on the riser to the right. They returned with the next two contestants. The procedure was the same except that since one of the contestants was a man, a cock ring was snapped in place behind his scrotum rather than an electrode clipped over the clit. Target thought that put the woman at a disadvantage, but the man still lost.

She watched this repeated a dozen times before she was finally rolled down into the arena and pushed over the black box. The metal dildo hurt slightly going into her anus, but that was nothing compared to the pain when the clamp closed on her clit. She kept thinking to herself, "If I can win this, I am safe. I can lose the next one and be out of this horrid competition." But the meter was at only 2.0 when she screamed loudly and lost her grip on the mouthpiece. She was crying heavily as she was rolled over to her place in the losers section.

After what seemed like just a few moments, the MC announced, "Well, ladies and gentlemen, we have our winners and we have our losers for the night. The question is, 'Who will be The Ultimate Winner?" He paused dramatically and added in a much lower tone of voice, "And who will be The Ultimate Loser?'" He then reverted to an almost normal voice to announce, "There will be a short break for our waiters and waitresses to take your drink and food orders and then we will continue with Round Two."

= = = = = =

While the wait staff was filling drink orders, the crew removed the black box and began setting up a large, shallow square that looked somewhat like a kiddy swimming pool, except that it was about twelve feet square and had a rather heavy steel frame. When it was set up, and after the MC had carefully inspected it and nodded his approval, it was filled to a depth of about four inches with a fluid that looked a lot like thick baby oil.

When all was prepared, the MC returned to the center of the arena and intoned, "Ladies and gentlemen, our second round will be Greco-Roman Wrestling. In Greek wrestling, the winner of the match is the first one to throw their opponent to the ground. The Greeks wrestled naked and would oil themselves up with grease to make it harder for their opponent to get hold of them. We are using an industrial lubricant in our slime pit, but it has the same effect. So just like the great citizens of ancient Greece, you get to watch a bunch of glistening bodies dancing around naked, trying to throw each other to the ground. We will begin with our winner's bracket and then move to our losers."

Target watched from her platform as the twelve women and four men were brought over to the slime pit two by two. Some of the contestants scooped up large handfuls of the lubricant and rubbed it into their bodies. Others just stepped into the pit.

Most of the matches were over fairly quickly. The secret seemed to be to rapidly get hold of the other person around the waist. If you were the first to securely grab the other, most likely you could throw them down. The slippery gel, however, made it difficult to hold on to anything. The match that got the most reaction from the crowd was when the large, heavyset woman who had brought Target to the club grabbed her opponent at arms length, lifted her up off the ground and slammed her down into the gooey pit.

"Another classic 'Big Momma' body slam," yelled the MC. "Big Momma has been our Ultimate Winner here at Wicked Whip eleven times. If she wins tonight, she will join only two others in our All Time Winners Hall of Fame."

Target had carefully watched the fourteen matches that preceded hers. She was trying to figure out what she had to do to win. She thought she had it. She had to keep her hands close to her sides so her opponent couldn't grab her waist, but not too close so her arms couldn't get pinned. She had to stay slightly crouched to hold her waist back, but not so far crouched that she could be pulled over.

"I can do this," she thought to herself as her wrists were uncuffed and she was led to the slime pit. "I can do this," she assured herself as she looked at her opponent, a frail-looking girl about two-thirds her size. "I can do this," she said out loud as she scooped up double handfuls of the lubricant gel and smeared it over her arms and breasts and legs and between her legs. "I can do this," she said firmly as she looked into the small face of her opponent.

Target moved slowly around the pit waiting for the girl to attempt to grab her. She knew that was your most vulnerable point and where several of the previous fighters had been defeated. As they lunged forward to grab their opponent, they themselves were grabbed and thrown to the slimy floor of the pit. Target waited, but the frail, little girl didn't lunge. She didn't even try to grab Target's waist. Instead, after several circles of the pit by both fighters, she suddenly dropped to her left knee and just as suddenly brought her right hand upward between Target's legs. The fingers of the tiny hand were held together to form a pointed wedge that drove directly into Targets pussy lips. The hand was full of slime which squished out between the fingers as the hand drove rapidly and painfully inside Target's cunt. Then the girl stood up and lifted upward with her right hand while holding onto her right wrist with her left hand.

Target screamed louder than she had ever remembered screaming before. She bucked against the intrusion, but the hand was deep inside her. The girl pulled Target towards her and then shoved her with her shoulder so that Target fell backwards into the slime. The smaller girl then pumped her hand rapidly in and out of Target several times while smearing more slime across Target's face and hair.

Target tried to yell, but it just came out a guttural moan. The winner then pulled her hand free and patted Target on the belly while saying to her, "I'll see you later honey when I get a crack at The Ultimate Loser... because that is going to be you tonight." She then stood up, held her hands in a victory pose, and walked out of the stage area.

A few moments later the final pair entered the slime pit. It was over almost immediately as one of the fighters reached over with her leg and pulled the foot of her opponent forward. "You almost had to want to lose to fall for that," thought Target as she watched the girl splash into the slime. Looking at the other seven still in the losers bracket she asked herself, "How many of these girls entered in hopes that they would be The Ultimate Loser?"

"It is time for our first reward and punishment. Our eight winners to this point will each receive $100. Our losers receive ten with the belt. You each received an entry ticket into the belt lottery for tonight. The winning numbers are displayed on the screen. If you hold a winning ticket, come forward, get one of the belts and get in position."

Soon five men and three women were standing behind the loser's platforms. "I want to hear those belts snap when they hit ass flesh," instructed the MC. Then he asked the crowd, "Are you ready to count?"

"Yes!" screamed the crowd. Then they yelled out "One!"

Target screamed as the belt slammed into her ass.

"Two!"

Target screamed again.

By the time the crowd yelled "Ten!" Target was unable to scream anymore. She was crying incoherently and nearly falling over the railing to which her hands were cuffed.

"After another short break to refill drinks and reset the stage," announced the MC. "We will continue with round three."

= = = = = =

It was almost a half-hour later before the slime pit was drained, disassembled and removed from the stage area. In its place a large plexiglass room had been erected that took up the entire open area at the front of the building. The crew was setting up large boxes and barrels throughout the room. After everything was set, the MC returned to his microphone.

"Our next contest will be a group contest rather than one on one. The eight winners will compete together, and then the eight losers. This is a paintball competition. The winner is the one who has hit the greatest number of their opponents while not being hit themselves. Two points for every time you hit an opponent. Minus one point for every paintball spot on you. We will provide protection for your eyes, but the rest of your body will be open to strikes and a paintball makes a rather painful pop when it hits open skin."

Target had never played paintball before and was unsure even of how the equipment worked. Each person had a rifle-looking gun with a large hopper on top of it. Evidently the paintballs were in the hopper and fired out the end of the barrel. Actually that was all she needed to know.

She watched the first match to see if she could get some pointers, but except for the fact that you needed to hide from your opponent but still needed to be able to see them to shoot them, she learned nothing. She did note that Big Mamma seemed to be able to pop up from behind a box or barrel, fire four or five shots and then disappear before anyone could get a bead on her. She also seemed to be able to move around the room almost like a ninja, suddenly being behind an opponent who thought she was in front of them. When the round was finished, Big Momma, two other women, and a man were the final four winners.

Target and the other seven were led into the plexiglass room. There were colored splotches on the walls and on the various boxes and barrels. "If you shoot before the command to begin, you are an automatic loser," instructed the MC. "But other than that, anything is fair."

The MC stepped back out of the enclosure and yelled, "Begin!"

Target wasn't sure what she planned to do, but she definitely had not planned on a group attack. Four of the girls must have conspired together. As soon as the MC had yelled "Begin!" they ran together to form a tight group that could protect each other while at the same time hunting down the others. Had it been real guns, it would have been called a massacre. The four conspirators had only one or two hits on their bodies while the other four - especially Target - were covered with colored bruises.

"I understand this one's name is 'Target,'" laughed the MC pointing at Target's splattered body. "We might have to put something in the rules against working together like that, but since it isn't there yet, we have four clear losers. The non-losers may leave. The semi-finalist losers take your positions on the punishment benches."

Four spanking benches were pushed into the center of the battle room. Target was unsure what to do, but one of the burly security people dragged her over to a bench and forced her to kneel on the raised pad. He strapped her legs in place, and then pulling her body over the higher padded area, he strapped her wrists to a bracket low on the other side. Her ass was in the perfect position for striking.

There was a muffled pffft sound and Target screamed. "I really shouldn't have done that," snickered the MC as he handed the paintball gun back to one of the crew members, "but with a name like 'Target' and pussy lips that look like a bull's eye, I just couldn't resist." The audience all laughed as they looked carefully at Target's ass. The MC had indeed hit the bulls eye. The inner fold of Target's labia was stained a deep green.

"At this level, the four winners, as part of their reward, get to help with the punishment of the losers." The MC handed large, wooden paddles to the four semi-finalist winners. Target noticed that Big Momma was taking a position behind her. "Hit in sequence," instructed the MC. "At the end of the sequence, the audience will count the swat. The audience will also keep track of which hit they thought was the strongest and will vote at the end to see which winner gets an additional $100 for the strongest arm."

"Ready," the MC asked.

In response the paddles began swinging. Splat, splat, splat, splat, "One!" Splat, splat, splat, splat, "Two!" Splat, splat, splat, splat, "Three!" And so it continued. All four of the losers were screaming themselves horse by the time the count got up to twenty. It wasn't until after the paddling has stopped that Target realized that she had pissed herself.

"Let's get some cream on those asses," said the MC, "They have two more rounds to go."

Stage hands wearing disposable rubber gloves hurried in and smeared some sort of ointment on the bruised and bleeding behinds of the four losers. All four renewed their screaming as soon as the cream was applied.

"I didn't say it would stop the pain," said the MC with a shrug. "I said it would enable them to finish the contest." He laughed and added, "Actually it hurts like hell, but it stops the bleeding and prevents infection. Save the painkiller buzz for the winners, right everybody?"

The audience responded with shouts of affirmation. Someone yelled, "Right! Let 'em suffer. They're LOSERS!"

The stage crew had disassembled the plexiglass room in a remarkably short time and had set up what appeared to be a raised wrestling ring in its place.

"This is a relatively simple contest," began the MC. "To win," he explained, "you just have to shove this ass-spear" - holding up a rather large butt plug shaped dildo with an overly long handle on it - "up your opponent's ass."

He held the unit up higher and said, "Do you see those little bands of metal near the base of the dildo above the protector bar on the handle? They will sense the skin contact of an asshole closing down over it and the handle will light up. Judges will know for sure that it is in place and we will have a definite winner and a definite non-winner."

Target noticed for the first time that in the winner's bracket you had winner's and non-winners, but in her bracket, you only had losers and non-losers. There were no winners in the losers bracket.

The first two contestants from the winners bracket climbed into the ring. Both were holding one of the ass-spears. After a considerable amount of grappling and wrestling, the male contestant finally succeeded in pinning the female to the mat face down. Then sitting on top of her, he pushed the ass-spear into her rectum until the handle lit.

"A winner!" shouted the MC. As the "non-winner" started to pull the spear from her ass, he added, "Do that back stage... in case anything comes out with it." She waddled off with the handle still sticking out of her ass and blinking.

The second match was over almost as soon as it had begun. Big Momma launched herself at her opponent and took her down with a scissor lock around the abdomen. As soon as they both hit the mat, Big Momma rolled so that her opponent's shoulders were slammed into the mat and then reached up with one hand and pushed the hapless woman's legs down over her face. With the same motion she plunged the ass-spear home. There was several seconds of absolute silence before the audience erupted into wild cheers and applause.

"And that's why you don't want to mess with Big Momma," yelled the MC. "I don't think we will see anything like that from our losers, but you never know."

Then directly addressing the four losers, he added, "And just to give you losers some added encouragement to at least TRY to win, the ass-spears used in the losers bracket don't just blink. They give off a high voltage pulse with every flash of the light."

Target cringed at the thought. The audience, however, cheered and stomped their feet.

The first round in the losers bracket was between a slightly balding man and a young woman with extremely short hair. Neither had hair in their crotch. The match went very much like the first round in the winner's bracket with both fighters grappling and tugging until finally one of them pinned the other to the mat and pushed the ass-spear home. The light began blinking and the girl pinned to the mat began howling, "Take it out! Take it out! Please, take it out!"

"You heard me before," said the MC. "You have to go backstage before that comes out."

The girl struggled to her feet and, crying in pain, stumbled across the stage, her body pulsing and quivering in time to the flashing light in her ass.

"I have to win," thought Target to herself. "I can win," she said aloud. "I will win!" she said forcefully. But less than a minute later, she, too, was wailing in pain and struggling to waddle across the arena to the backstage area where she thought her painful intruder would be removed.

A few moments later, however, two of the more muscular stage hands pushed a large platform back out into the center of the stage. In the center of the platform were two poles that held a crossbeam about seven feet in the air. Hanging from that crossbeam, facing each other and strapped together at the waist were Target and the loser from the first semi-final match. Both were screaming and moaning in time to the pulsing lights in their asses.

"I guess I forgot to mention that the loser's spears cannot be removed until they have timed out." The audience laughed. "So why don't we give the servers a chance to take more drink and food orders and we will get set up for the final challenges."

= = = = = =

About fifteen minutes later the ass-spears quit blinking and Target and the other loser, sweaty and exhausted from screaming in pain, hung limply from the straps that held their wrists to the cross bar.

Meanwhile, a set of low stocks had been set up in one of the corners of the ring.

"Take them back stage and hose them off," instructed the MC and the two female stage hands pushed the platform into the back area.

"And now, Ladies and Gentlemen," yelled the MC in his announcer cadence, "we come to our final contests of the evening. In a few moments we will know who is The Ultimate Winner and who is The Ultimate Loser." Lasers and strobe lights flashed throughout the building and the crowd stomped their approval.