The Tales of The Aurora Pt. 04

We spent the next ten minutes doing stretches, and light warm-up exercises. I could have pushed him to exhaustion before I suggested the sparring session, but that would have been underhanded. I wanted him in peak condition when I defeated him. That way, we would know who was the better fighter.

"James, I want a rematch," I told him, with fierce determination.

"What, are you aching for more punishment?" he asked, while he shot that infuriating cocky smile of his.

"No, because this time I will win," I told him, while I shot him my own cocky smile.

"Okay, but what's in it for me?" he asked, while he tried to figure out my endgame.

I thought over what to offer him. Something that would entice him to go with the match. With the bet in mind, I told him what he would get if he bested me once again.

"I still owe you that question from yesterday, so how about if you win, I will answer it today, and I will do whatever you want, for one week." That last part was a steep price, but I needed something to sweeten the pot. "So what do you say? Are you in?" I asked.

"Okay, that seems like a fair wager, but what about you? What do you get when you win?" he asked me.

"Let's call it an even wager; whoever wins gets to ask their opponent a single question, and will do their bidding for one week. Is that fair?" I asked him, one more time.

He nodded to my question, and we both headed for the sparring gear.

"Okay, I'm guessing you want to set the rules again?" James asked, while we put on our protective gear.

"Yes, same as last time. The first one to pin down their opponent wins, and this time no using your opponent's clothing against them," I said. I made sure to drive that last bit home, so he didn't try anything funny. Then just to be sure, I pulled off the shirt I was wearing, which only left me in only my sports bra and workout shorts.

"Okay, I agree with your rules, including the whole 'no opponent clothes' thing. Although you don't have much clothing left, now do you," he said, while he looked up and down at my body, showing that he liked what he saw.

Once we shook on it, I jumped on him with a series of fast attacks. I left no room for him to fight back. I kept on pressing the attack for several minutes. He did manage to counter or block, but with no room to punch back, all he could do was keep taking the hits. He tried to put some distance between us, but I always kept closing in. I hadn't pinned him down once, but I was waiting for the perfect opportunity. I had to admit, his stamina was quite good, if he was able to keep up with me.

At the five-minute mark, we both separated and went to rehydrate and wipe off the sweat. I was drenched in sweat. I never had to fight so hard to bring down someone before. It was almost exhilarating to come face to face with an opponent that could push you to your absolute limits. Still no matter what, I could not lose to him. After wiping my face, and taking a swig of water; I turned back and faced James. He, too, was sweating pretty hard, and his shirt clung to his body like a second skin. He realized that he could not fight well with his shirt on, so he decided to remove it, and show his body in its full glory. I knew James had a fantastic physique, but seeing him with no shirt almost made my body quiver. His muscle tone was even more defined with the added sweat that clung to his body. It made every ridge and valley of his body pop. Plus, the added blood flow, made the muscles in his arms look slightly more bulged. It gave him the look of extra strength, and vitality.

That moment made me remember that little mythos lesson he gave me about the female Amazons and the male warrior. Right now, James looked like a warrior ready to fight. The only difference was that I would not lose and submit to him. He wiped away most of the sweat with his used t-shirt and dropped it very close to the ring. He took one last swig of water, and made his way to the ring. From there, our match continued.

We fought for almost nine minutes after that. My shorts and sports bra were soaked through, and my muscles started to burn, but I loved every second of it. James had surpassed any opponent I had ever faced since I went to college. I still pressed him on the attack, but my stamina slowly declined. Because of that, he managed to land a few of his own punches. By the end of the second round, he almost had me on the defensive.

James was slowly gaining the upper hand, and the fear of me losing, slowly made its way into my mind. Then in a fit of desperation, I decided to go all out. Landing blow after blow until he reached the edge of the ring. Then I saw him lose his balance. I realized what an opportunity it was, so I made a fast-spin kick, and hit him in the shoulder. He did fall over, but managed to perform a barrel roll for recovery. I pressed the advantage and decided to throw a heavy punch at his head. I tried to knock him out, but then in one quick moment, I was sprawled out on the floor. From there he coiled around me, and just like that, he had me pinned.

What he did, happened so fast, that it took me a minute to process what had just transpired. As soon as I threw my punch, James spun around and wrapped a shirt around my fist, like a rope. While he was rolling, he had managed to grab his t-shirt that was at the edge of the ring, and wrap both ends around his hands. Then while my fist was firmly secured in his grasp, he spun around until his back was once again facing me. With my fist still wrapped in his shirt, he pulled me until I landed on his back. Then using my forward momentum he flipped me around. I landed face down, which in turn caused me to lose my breath. He swept over me until he was on top, and while bringing my restrained hand behind my back, he managed to free one hand and grab my other arm, and brought it also around my back.

Once he had them secured, he rolled us over until I was on top of him; which he proceeded to wrap his legs around my own. Arms restrained, legs all wrapped up, and just like that, I was pinned. I tried to wriggle out of his hold, but I was too weak to move. My last strategy caused me to exert all of my strength, hoping to throw him off guard. In the end, he flipped that on me. I tried so hard to break free of him, but it was no use, his grip was solid. I even tried to thrust my body up and down; trying to loosen his grip. But all he did was secure my arms in one of his hands, and wrapped his now-free one around my torso; halting me in place. I was going to voice again about him cheating, but I thought back to my rules about not using the opponent's clothing. I didn't say anything about using your own. I thought back throughout the match; him losing his shirt, me using up all my strength, and then me pushing him toward the side of the ring where his shirt was. It dawned on me that he might have planned this from the beginning. Once I realized all of that; I stopped moving and just slumped into his embrace.

"Do you concede?" he asked me in my ear, while he was trying to catch his breath.

"You planned this. didn't you?" I asked him, in a defeated tone.

"Planned what?" he replied.

"You planted your shirt by the ring, just so you can use it for this exact moment," I told him, while I felt his heartbeat slowing down.

"Yes, I did. Sasha, I know you are the better fighter. If I went at you straight on, I would have lost. So I came up with a plan. It was a one-in-one-thousand shot, but as you see, it worked," he explained.

"Did you let me keep throwing punches at you?" I asked him in defeat.

"Yes, I had to tire you out. It was rough; you throw some pretty powerful punches and kicks, but I knew I could handle them. All I had to do was wait until the right moment, and then lure you to where my shirt was," he said, as he finished explaining his plan in its entirety.

"Are you going to contest this victory?" he asked, in low steady breaths.

I thought about what he said, and what he did. He tricked me once again, but looking at it as a whole; I could not see anything he did wrong. He lasted far longer than most of my previous opponents, and he managed to turn my plan against me. When I thought that I had the upper hand, all I was doing was walking right into his trap. He outsmarted me, but instead of feeling robbed or cheated, I felt at peace. It was one hell of a fight.

"No, you win. I lost," I told him, with a gentle sigh.

Then he shifted his grip, holding me tighter against his firm, sweaty body. He then leaned into my ear, and in bated breath, he asked, "Does that mean that I can collect my reward?"

The way he said it, sent shivers down my body. Then I noticed something else. Something long and hard was rubbing against my firm ass. Realization set in, that what I felt was that hardening beast that he kept hidden in his shorts. It must have woken up when I was gyrating on top of him, while trying to break free. My mind was racing on what to do; 'should I back out of the deal, should I try to run, or say he cheated and this did not count.' One by one, I dismissed them all. I lost fair and square, and honor dictates that I had to pay what was owed.

So in a small, almost whimpering tone, I spoke up to him. "What do you want me to do?" I asked.

With that, he let go of my arms and legs and he gently moved me off of him. He got back onto his feet and proceeded to help me up, as well. He took my arm, and he led me to a padded wall at the end of the sparring ring.

"Stand perfectly still," he spoke to me, with an air of authority.

Doing as I was told, he proceeded to walk around me; inspecting me like I was his prized game; all the while, removing his, and my protective gear. He stopped right behind me and then began to move both of my arms behind my back. With the t-shirt that he still had in his hands, he began to bind my wrists together.

A little worried, I spoke up. "What are you doing?" I asked, but he only continued tying up my wrists.

Once he was finished he finally spoke to me. "Don't worry, I am not going to hurt you, unless you warrant punishment."

That last remark, sent a little fear through my body.

Sensing my tense body, he continued his explanation. "You had formal military training, didn't you?" he asked, while he made his way to the front of me.

"Yes," I said.

"Good, which means you know how to address a superior?" he asked, almost rhetorically.

I answered him with another yes, as I tried to figure out where he was going with this.

"Good, for the next week, when we are alone, you will address me as 'sir'. You lost to a superior fighter, so you must show respect. Do you understand?" he told me, with an authoritative tone.

"Yes," I answered him.

But then, he slapped my face. Not too hard, but just hard enough to leave a little sting. "It's 'Yes, sir,' unless, I tell you otherwise. Do you understand?" he remarked, while looking deep into my eyes; showing that he was in charge.

"Yes, sir," I replied.

"Good. Now, if you keep that up, then there would be no more punishments," he warned me.

He then guided me until my back was pressed against the padded wall. Then, while still looking right into my eyes, he began to caress my body, in the same manner, he did yesterday. To think I did all of this so I could put what happened yesterday behind me, but here I was in the same position, the only difference was that I had agreed to this.

"You know, Sasha, you do have a great body," he told me, while he moved his hand to the lower swells of my bra-covered tits.

Knowing what I had to say, I responded to him, "Thank you, sir."

"Good, you remembered," he praised me for my response, and in return, he pinched my hardened nipple, sending a wave of pleasure through my body. Then he raised his hand to the underside of my sports bra. He gave it a rough tug upwards, causing my tits to be freed from their sweaty confines.

"Your skin looks so flawless with their dark, rich color, and your breasts look so perfect. Especially with your Hershey kiss nipples," he said to me.

I responded to him, with the same 'Thank you, sir,' and he began to fondle my tits, rolling my nipples with the roughness of his hands. A small moan escaped my lips as he played with them.

"Are you enjoying this Sasha?" he asked, to which I nodded. "So tell me; what do you say to those that make you feel this good?" he said, with that cocky grin of his.

Knowing what he wanted to hear, I said, "Thank you, sir, for making me feel good."

The wave of humiliation was overwhelming; I was thanking this man for giving me pleasure. I should have been disgusted with myself, but I only felt a tight warmness deep within my core, and new wetness between my legs.

He kept at this for several minutes. I wasn't too afraid of anyone walking in on us, because we still had twenty minutes left in James' training session. The crew was pretty good at leaving us alone.

He was lavishing my tits with his hands and soon with his mouth, and tongue. Every time I moaned, I would say 'Thank you, sir'; the few times when I didn't, he would slap my tits, which would leave a stinging sensation. Still, even with the slaps, the pleasure never seemed to fade. In fact, it just caused it to skyrocket even more. Releasing his mouth from my tits, he began to move up to my face. My tits missed the feeling of his mouth, and as if on instinct, they thrust themselves upwards, trying to get back into his mouth.

Noticing this, he smiled widely, and with an amusing tone, he said, "Well, well, well, looks like someone was enjoying themselves. Let me see just how much."

He slowly moved his hand straight down towards my dripping peach. As soon as his hand made its way into my tight shorts, he cupped my pussy, and a wave of humiliation and pleasure swept over me. A loud moan escaped my lips, then a chuckle filled the room.

"My my, you are pretty excited. I can feel you dripping down into my hand," he said, as he rubbed up and down my wet slit.

"Now, what did I say about making you feel good?" he asked me.

"Thank you, sir," I said, while I panted with need.

"Good, remember every time you moan, I want to hear 'Thank you, sir,' right afterward. Do you understand?" he said.

I replied to him with a 'Yes Sir,' and with that, he began his renewed assault on my pussy. He slowly worked a single finger inside, feeling the wetness of my insides. Then he slowly added a second and then a third. The pleasure and pain of having my pussy being violated by his fingers was almost too much to handle. I kept on moaning and groaning with every thrust of his fingers. Remembering what he said, after every moan, I would end it with a, 'Thank you, sir.' It was happening so much that I kept repeating it like I was reciting a mantra. It even got to the point where I would say it, even when I wasn't even moaning. It was so humiliating, letting myself be felt up by him, always thanking him for it, and yet the amount of pleasure I was feeling was undeniable. It was as if I was getting off on being humiliated. All it did, was add fuel to the raging inferno that was welling up, deep within my core.

"You are doing great, Sasha. Do you know what you are acting like, right now?" he asked.

"No, sir," I replied, trying to steady my breath, as I felt the heat on my face.

"You are acting like a bitch in heat. A female dog that wants to have that itch scratched by an alpha dog. What do you say, Sasha, are you my bitch?" he asked, with intense lust into my ear.

Being called a female dog, or a bitch, was incredibly degrading, but all that did was just pour more fuel into the raging inferno deep inside of me. Almost in a state of delirium, I screamed out, "OH YES SIR, I AM YOUR FEMALE DOG! I AM YOUR BITCH!"

As soon as I said that, he intensified his assault on my cunt; rubbing the palm of his hand against my aching clit. All the while, he groped one of my breasts with his free hand, and gently nibbled the sensitive side of my neck. It was so overwhelming, and I needed something to hold onto. But with my arms still bound together; all I could do was rely on James' strength to hold me up. When just about to reach the apex of what I assumed would be an explosive climax, James decided before that exact moment, to take things up a notch. He pinched my nipple to the point of pain, and at the same time, he started to bite down at the base of my neck, hard. Then he mashed down hard on my throbbing clit. The combination of pleasure and pain, caused that raging inferno to explode outwards, consuming me in its all-encompassing flames.

The pleasure was so intense, that I tried to scream out my delight, but only a whispering sound could escape my wide-open lips. Even the fire deep inside of me, had consumed all the oxygen within the room. It felt like an eternity, the sheer magnitude of that climax far surpassed any other I had in my life.

Regaining my senses, I felt like I was floating on air, like not even my feet were touching the ground. Then I realized I had lost all strength within them. The only reason I was still standing upright, was that James hadn't loosened his hold over me.

In a last fit of gained consciousness, I spoke to him. "Thank you, sir, that was wonderful," telling him in only a whisper.

He loosened his grip on me and I slumped down onto the matted floor. He took a step back, thinking that he was done with me. I was about to voice my concern until he started to loosen his shorts.

"Tell me, Sasha, do you know what alpha dogs do to their bitches," he said, while lowering his pants, exposing his raging cock. It was standing proud and erect; veins criss-crossing its shaft, and the color of its head was a menacing purple. A clear liquid was oozing out of the little hole at the tip of his cock. He gave it a few strong strokes and in an animalistic voice, full of lust, he said, "They mark their territory with their scent."

With a low groan escaping his lips, a white-hot liquid shot forth from his cock. Spurt after spurt, his white cum landed on my face. It felt like I was a super-glazed donut, when he was marking me. When he was finished with his last spurt, a little of his cum slid onto my closed mouth, and as if on instinct, I licked my lips and swallowed his creamy substance down my throat. After swallowing that small amount of semen, a small orgasm swept through me. It wasn't as strong as the one he had given me before, but it still sent my pussy to a tingling sensation. Recovering from that mini-orgasm, I began to realize there was a pungent smell that filled the room. His cum had a strong scent to it. It had a strong, earthy scent that was pleasant to the senses.

'God, he really did mark me. Everyone in the whole crew will know I am his bitch. What will they say? What will Liz say?' All those thoughts were running through my mind, humiliation was seeping into me, and that once-raging fire, started back up again. I didn't know what was wrong with me, or how I should stop this. Before I continued into a tailspin, I heard a clicking noise and I looked up and saw James standing over me with a hand-terminal. I had been so engrossed in my dilemma, and his scent, that I didn't even realize that he had walked away to retrieve his things and had come back.

"Now, that is a pretty sight," he mused, while kneeling and bringing the terminal to my face.

On it, was a picture of me covered in his white goo. It was a sight to see, the contrast between my dark skin and his milky-white semen was almost breathtaking. I was a complete and total mess, but that only turned me on even further. Unfortunately, I didn't have the strength to continue. With his molesting, and his corporal punishment routine, my body had nothing left to give. That feeling alone, brought a smile to my face. Looking back at James, he placed the hand-terminal right next to me, and then he lifted up a towel. Then with a firm but gentle grasp on my chin, he began to clean my face.