Sex Fighting League Ch. 01

I dressed as quickly as I could, pulling my wet clothes back on over my wet skin while people walked passed. Some looked, some watched, some saw and picked up the pace as they kept their head down. I sent Hanna a message to let her know that I was out and no charges had been brought. She would read between the lines and know what that outcome had cost me. I went home, opening the door Dad was sitting on the sofa. "Good night?" he asked. I just looked at him with my 'fucking really?' Expression. "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time," he said with a shrug. I must have looked a mess at a glance, if you cared to look closer I was wearing muddy wet clothes, my hair looked like you would imagine and still had drying cum in it. If you dig a little bit deeper my t-shirt was stuck to me, partially from muddy water, but a not insignificant cause of the sticking was cum that was dried onto my chest and back. Going even further, my panties were more cum than material. I didn't rise to the bait though, the last thing I felt like was having an argument with my Dad on top of everything. I stripped, showered until it felt like I was scrubbing skin off and got into bed. I curled up in comfortable pyjamas and went to sleep.

I woke up and went downstairs still in my pyjamas. Dad eyed me and gave me a sympathetic smile. "Are you okay?" he asked. I just nodded. "No, seriously, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am fine," I said as I sorted out some breakfast, lunch, dinner. What time was it? I sorted myself a bowl of cereal for my dinner.

"Arrested?" he asked to which I just nodded. "What did they do?" he asked. I did like how he asked what they did, not what I did to get arrested.

I looked at him cautiously. He had one hell of a temper and I was his baby girl, even if he did come across as emotionally dead, he did still love me. The last thing we needed was for him to get arrested and charged as unlike me, he would not be offered a similar plea option. "You know..." I said with a shrug. He knows what happens to pretty girls who get in trouble. He will have seen the state of me when I got back, that doesn't happen falling into a bush when drunk.

"S..." he began, but the word caught in his throat. He swallowed and looked at me. "Sex?" he asked softly.

He seemed fairly calm, so I just nodded in reply. I tried to keep it light-hearted, but that was kind of difficult. Yeah, Dad, I was blackmailed into sex with multiple men, I can barely walk this morning. The good news is I managed to negotiate for them to leave my ass alone. Oh, incidentally, they took the cash in my wallet as a donation to the station in exchange for not fucking me up the ass. So it was hardly a negotiation, it was whatever the opposite of prostitution is. "The system is fucked," he said.

"It sure is," I agreed, but not as fucked as I had been this morning, "But what are you gonna do?"

"Find a train packed full of explosives and then blow the fuckers up?" he said with a grin.

"There are not enough explosives in the world to eradicate even half of the corruption," I observed.

"It would be fun trying though," he said and gave a laugh. This was a fairly common fantasy for people not in the higher circles of society, level the playing field with a fuck tonne of TNT. In fact, it was taken that seriously a decade or so ago a lot of people were arrested and imprisoned on charges of conspiracy. There was no real viable plan to do such an act, but there were enough rumblings in the underclass of the country for the government to get a bit nervous and decided to stamp it out.

I ate my cereal and sat downstairs watching the TV with him. I had no other plans that day and I did like sitting with him. We barely spoke, and if I spoke when sport was on and at a critical moment I just got shushed. That was comforting though, that was my childhood, carefully treading the line of not being yelled at. I tucked my feet up underneath my body and curled up onto the sofa. I was so tired still and dozed in and out of sleep.

I woke up when I felt a blanket lay over me. "Thanks," I mumbled as I cuddled it around me. It was not actually cold, it was fairly humid, even with the windows open, but the comfort was nice.

"Shorts," he said as he tucked the blanket around me. I just smiled. He wasn't being nice or sympathetic, I was wearing what were fairly loose short shorts and no underwear. Oops. I mentally pictured the angle I was sitting at and yeah, I doubt he would have seen anything too valuable, but he would have certainly seen my ass and gained the knowledge that I wasn't wearing underwear.

"No worries," he said as he gave me a warm smile, "It has been a while since I have seen a sexy young lady."

"Ew," I said.

"Hey, old guys have needs too," he said with a smile. He knew this topic creeped me out. I have no doubts that at whatever age that sort of activity is awesome, but I don't want to know about it. I certainly don't want to be the subject matter for my Dad's fantasy.

"You do realise I am your daughter yeah?" I said with a smile.

He just nodded and changed the subject. In his defence, he has sacrificed a lot to raise me. Kids are not cheap and the last thing he wanted from a drunken mistake was 19 years, and counting, of consequence. I am pretty much self-supporting now, but he does still feed and clothe me, as well as give me shelter and safety. I have offered to help with the bills, but he just waved it off and said that it was fine. He looked at me and then looked away again. I caught his glance and watched him for a second or so. He was winding up to something. "I don't want you to end up here," he said.

"I live here," I said sarcastically.

"You know what I mean," he said, "Here, this lifestyle. I want better for you."

"I know," I said. He has said this before and I wanted the same, but like everything, if you have money making more is easier than when you have no money. I can take big risks with my free cash, but five, ten or even 20% gains on not a lot is just a percentage of not a lot. I know I am oversimplifying it all, but I think my point is valid. My point may be an excuse for inaction, but either way, excuse or point, it is valid.

"Promise me you will try," he said.

"I will," I replied and I meant it. He didn't ask for much from me, he was a very easygoing parent and I did take liberties at times. "I just don't know where to start."

"A miss-step is better than staying still," he said. I have no idea who he stole that quote from, but I am assuming it was not his own. "This is all yours. House, car, savings, everything I have is 100% yours when I go. It isn't much, but it is a safety net. Get out there, live your life, have fun. If it all goes wrong you still have a home and safety. Don't spend your life here in this shit hole though."

"I won't," I said, "Promise."

"I am your biggest fan and I will support you in whatever you choose," he said, "Crime is not a good choice though."

"I know," I acknowledged. It offered spending money at the level that I dabbled, and that was the best case, it got me a right royal fucking this morning. I would never claim to have not enjoyed it on some level, I orgasmed and pushed back more than once, but on my terms, it would have been much more enjoyable. There had always been the possibility of them reneging on the no anal deal and I was actually fairly staggered that they didn't. Police in this day and age are hardly renowned for their ability to keep to the rules. Just for info here, I have no issue with anal sex. Use enough lube and most importantly, be nice and be very aware of where your dick is and I quite enjoy it. It is nowhere near as nice as correct hole sex, but pin me down and make me choose anal or a blow job and I am bending over every time. Cum in my mouth is fucking gross and cum on my face is just so degrading. Okay, having a cock slamming in and out of my bum is hardly dignified, but whatever, at least I enjoy anal on a very real level. I would love to cum during anal, but I have never managed it yet, I have been close a few times, but never achieved orgasm.

"Seriously," he said, "Promise me you will stop."

"I will."

"One day you won't be able to fuck your way out of trouble. Promise me."

"I promise I will stop," I said locking eye contact with him.

Life returned to normal and I sank back into the background again. It had been a honey trap in the bar and I had fallen for it, hook line and sinker. They were doing the rounds of the bars and clubs, hence the high-quality CCTV camera. It must have been our little shitty town's turn to have petty crime clamped down on. They do this every so often, just to keep the criminals in check. Of course, the criminals who are voted in carry on their careers with no interference. That is just how it is though, not fair, but it has been that way for decades, centuries even.

Hanna and I were in the bar, watching the usual filth on the TV and drinking more than was probably healthy. We were currently watching two guys beat the crap out of each other. They were so competitive it was incredible. They both knew what the stakes of losing were and neither of them wanted it. I was rooting for the guy who was in red shorts, he is very much not in red shorts anymore as two naked guys wrestle and fight for domination. The only reason I am rooting for the red team guy is because the blue team guy is hung like a donkey and during forfeit no matter how much lube they apply that is going to hurt. A lot. Watching two guys who are not particularly into that have sex is awesome, the awkwardness is just brilliant. The giver is torn between how nice it feels and that it is not a girl whom he is currently balls deep in. The receiver has a prostate, and no matter how much he doesn't want to like it, that is feeling nice and if he gets the angle right he is cumming and he is cumming hard. If however, the dick in your ass is too big, the dynamic changes and it just turns into a fucking and I find that really boring.

A couple of guys came up to the table and sat down, which is fairly bold as an approach. They placed two glasses down on the table and slid them in front of us. "Vodka and Diet Coke yeah?" one of them said as he looked at us. At least they have done their research I guess. The days of being spiked were over, technology has destroyed that particular rape approach. Even as a poor person, I have more nanotech in my body than I care to even think about. It is cheaper for the state to just give me the health benefits of the tech for free than it is to lose my minuscule tax contribution over my lifetime due to dying early from a treatable disease. The majority of illness and disease is countered by the technology in my bloodstream, the biggest killer is stupidity these days, average life expectancy is well into your 90's with outliers being upwards of 120 years old. The tech is only rented anyway, so the lifetime cost is fairly small, when I die as part of the burial it is all sucked out of me, "processed" and then put into a newly born baby for their life. Weird if you think about it, so I just don't On a more practical level though if the drink is spiked the nanites in my body will detect it and my phone will alert me to them, as well as call the police. CCTV will be reviewed and they do not take kindly to rape, or rape attempts.

"Thanks," I said warmly as I took a sip of the free drink. They were not uneasy on the eye by any stretch of the imagination. Let's see where this goes. They both seemed very confident, well, they just sat down uninvited and knew what we were drinking, which is fairly confident as an opening gambit.

"Sophie and Hanna yeah?" he said. I glanced at Hanna who glanced back at me nervously. Knowing our names was either stalker-level weird or we were in trouble for something.

"Depends on who is asking," Hanna replied.

They smiled and sat back in their seats. They took a sip of their drinks and just chatted with us. I am not even sure if they were chatting us up or not. I guess that could be a brilliant approach to getting into a girl's panties if she doesn't even know that is your goal. Make her think it is her idea, that is the greatest trick of all. It was friendly and amenable and yet not really going anywhere. I was very much disarmed though and at ease. I was aware of how weird it was that they had just sat down with us and started a conversation.

Another round of drinks arrived and I took a sip of it. It was still a single and not a double, they were in this for the long game. Although spiking is a thing of the past just getting her drunk is still a valid approach. Valid and effective, I have had a few morning-after regrets after waking up very hungover in a stranger's bed with a very odd taste in my mouth, not wearing anything and laying in what had been the wet patch.

"Er..." Hanna began, "Are we in trouble?" she asked.

"A guilty conscience," one of them grinned, "Should you be in trouble?"

I applied my best innocent face and smiled at him. "Not unless you want us to be naughty."

"Do you come as a package?" he asked.

I glanced at Hanna who just grinned. We did not, I love her with all of my heart but not in that way. I have been in the room while she has had sex and vice versa but never joined in, neither is there a real burning desire to do so. "We could do..." Hanna teased. I actually saw the 'fucking hell' flash across his expression as he no doubt imagined us in some sort of depravity. Girl-on-girl porn is very popular still and I don't think there is a guy alive who would not want to watch it in real life at least once in his life.

"No, you are not in trouble," the other guy said as he broke the tension that had built between us. "We are actually here with an offer."

"Go on..." I prompted. I was expecting the offer to be them kindly agreeing to take us back to their house and give us a good fucking. Good is very subjective though and what is good for them is probably us just laying there and making the right noises for their ego as they fill us with cum after a disappointing build-up and anti-climax. I am of course being cruel and judgey, they ooze confidence, but they don't look like they are adept in the bedroom. I did a mental check on what underwear I was wearing and whether it was nice enough to be seen. It would not influence the decision of if I slept with one of them or not, but if it was boring or not very sexy I would go to the restroom and remove it beforehand. I actually couldn't remember what I was wearing, it had been hours since I put them on and I had not paid them that much attention at the time. I would have to check if this went anywhere. I would let Hanna decide, I wasn't really in the mood, but she needed a wingman to take care of the other guy and I wouldn't let her down if she felt like sexy time.

Another round of drinks arrived just at that moment, but only two. A small booklet was slid in front of each of us, they stood up, thanked us for our time and then left. I was not expecting that. I looked at her and we both slid the paperwork in front of us.

It was two invites to a training fighter league. My heart skipped a beat. These were very invite-only, the only way you got into these leagues was by being invited, you could buy your way in, but if you had the money to buy yourself in, you were usually of social circles where fighting for your dignity was not acceptable.

I checked the watermark and hologram. They were genuine. "Fuuuuuuuuuck," I said as I read the details of the offer.

It was the little leagues. You started at the bottom and worked your way up if you were any good. If you were not any good you faded into insignificance. The lower league matches were not even televised. You could get them on shitty quality streams if you dug around, but hundreds of thousands of amateur fights were happening every day, and the vast majority were not televised. The only reason they were recorded was for training purposes after the event. It was a real contract though, you committed in yearly increments and were able to walk away at the end of each year. Of course, if you were shit your contract was terminated and that was the end of your 'career'. The first few months were just training and conditioning and that usually progressed into boxing, which progressed into the full fights you can watch on the TV. Getting to the top is like elite sport, it is unlikely to happen. Even making a living from it is unlikely, but the first yearly contract was minimum wage based on full-time hours so around 25,000 credits

I looked at Hanna and she looked at me. I was in, my face told that story and she beamed back at me with a similar expression. "Are you in?" she asked excitedly.

"Fuck yeah," I said, "You?"

"Fucking right I am," she said. We chattered like chip monks with an energy I had not experienced before. This would go nowhere, we would get a year or two out of it at the very most and then we would be back here, but in the meantime, let's enjoy the ride. I just had to tell Dad... He did say he would support me in anything I decided.

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Thank you for reading

As always, comments are welcomed.

I am hoping to make this into a long running series