Secret Sex-Fight Society Ch. 04bymarkydaysaid©
Story till now: 19 year old bully Tommy Gunn had been accepted in the Secret Sex-Fight Society, an violent underground organization of martial-artists and cage-fighters who use sex as a weapon. Managed by the beautiful and mysterious Ciara Chocolate, Tommy won two of his first three official matches, defying expectations of what a rookie with a big cock can do. But Tommy lost his last match to the bisexual demigod Poseidon, who has taken the macho teen as his personal bitch. Will Tommy be able to overcome Poseidon? Will he get to have sex with Poseidon's girlfriend, the beautiful Miss Cupid again? Will he get fucked up the ass again like he deserves? Find out right now.
Tommy Gunn: 19. The protagonist of this story. A cocky and arrogant young man. Incredibly handsome and confident. Swimmer's body, six-pack abs, blue eyes, black hair.
Lucy Lockhart: 25. Tommy's former babysitter and current police office. Short red hair, big green eyes, freckles, nice tits, big ass. Easily bullied into sex and demeaning situations.
Christine McClain: 40-something busty Asian/Caucasian police chief with long black hair, long legs, and the soul of a dominatrix.
Ciara Chocolate: 35. A mysterious woman with great wealth and influence in Climax City. Milk-chocolate skin, tall, Amazonian, large breasts, short sleek brown hair, many ear piercings, perfect ass. Likes to wear very expensive, very sexy clothes.
Pietro "Poiseidon" Xavier: 20-something. A blue-haired god amongst men. Sex-fighter. Bisexual.
Caroline "Miss Cupid" Heart: 20-something. Sex-fighter. A sexy, tall, Playboy-style blonde. She has a bow-and-arrow tattoo tramp-stamp that points down her crack of her perfect ass. She has a special technique which allows her to infer great details about peoples bodies, health, and lives by making sexual contact with them.
Dragon Bitch: 40-something retired sex-fighter from Japan, now a manager in the society. Tall, huge breasts, masculine face, many tattoos depicting the people she has murdered and in what manner she murdered them.
Lockup: 19 year old sex-fighter, a punk-rock bitch with long red haird, a slender waist, and nice breasts. She has spent most of her life in prison or Juvenile Hall.
Lucy Lockhart (who hasn't made an appearance since way back in chapter 1) nervously entered her bosses office, so terrified of her colossal bitch of an overseer that she was almost pissing her little booty-shorts. Most people who saw Lucy would assume that she was a stripper pretending to be a police officer rather than an actual cop, which she was, and she was a damn fine mediocre cop too (mediocre being better than most). She was a cute, curvy redheaded girl of 25 years with a freckly, innocent face, big green eyes, a bubble butt, and a killer pair of juicy tits. Most of her body was on display, since her 'uniform' was just a skimpy crop-top, short tummy-bearing jacket, and a ludicrously small pair of shorts that left over half of her curvy ass exposed. If it weren't for the shiny little badge and the big fucking gun she carried no one would believe she was 5.0.
But in the year 2099, and in the metropolis of Climax City, such clothing was so typical it barely drew extra attention. And why should it? The City Council was made up of porn producers, drug dealers, and international criminals. The mayor was usually an ex-pornstar or a corporate sponsored robot. High schools were treated as recruitment centers for prostitutes and gangbangers. Pornography was so common it was regarded as public art, and killing someone was only illegal if someone bothered to bribe the police enough to press charges. In this world, no one cared who dressed like a total slut, because everyone did.
Also, in 2099 most firearms were so powerful that only military level body-armor would actually stop a bullet, so the Climax City Police were chosen entirely based on their ability to shoot first and shoot accurately, as the only defense was a quick offence. Lucy Lockhart was an excellent shot. She pulled off three consecutive head-shots during a raid in her first week on the force. She was also an above average hand-to-hand combatant, having taken down over a dozen knife-wielding serial murderers with nothing by her strong legs and tomboy-fists.
Those skills almost made up for the fact that she was a complete airhead, and usually fucked up most investigations through clumsiness. She assumed this was why her boss, Police Chief Christine McClain, wanted to see her. Lucy could already feel Chief's McClain's hand spanking her juicy butt.
But it looked like Chief McClain was preoccupied. The tall, busty woman of mixed Asian-Caucasian descent with the long black hair was feverishly masturbating with her long legs splayed out on her desk and a big, black vibrator humming over her erect clit.
"Chief McClain," Lucy stammered, instantly wet by the sight. "You . . . uh . . . wanted to see me?" For sex, Lucy hoped. Christine McClain might have been a total bitch, but she was painfully sexy and a demon in bed, as Lucy had happily found out one Christmas party.
McClain looked shocked at first, embarrassed, and then pissed off.
"Stupid cunt! Don't interrupt me when I'm investigating a case!"
McClain threw her dildo and it hit Lucy right in her freckled face, leaving a painful little bump. Lucy whined as she rubbed her face clean of the pussy-cum that had gotten on it.
"But . . . but . . . you said-"
"Shut up, Lockhart, you dumb little retard. I know what I said." McClain quickly pulled her tight skirt down, hiding the dripping pussy beneath, and buttoned her open blouse, covering up her spectacular white breasts. "Get your fat ass over here and take a look at this."
Lucy scampered over to McClain's desk and leaned over to see the holo-screen that the Police Chief had been masturbating to. While Lucy was leaning over her big ass was close to McClain, who gave a mean little tug at the back, making Lucy whimper from the playful wedgie.
The holo-screen was playing six different videos, all of them showing people either engaging in brutal acts of martial arts or dominant sex, and Lucy quickly realized that one act was following the other. These people were fighting, fucking, and fighting some more in an apparent sport to establish some sort of dominance, the dominant one being the winner. There were images of men fighting women and subduing them, of women doing the same to men, of women fucking women, and even of men ass-raping other men. Many of these fighters wore unusual outfits and a few even displayed superhuman abilities, like some kind of erotic comic-book nightmare brought to life.
"What am I watching," Lucy asked.
"It's called the Secret Sex-Fight Society, or just the Society, depending on who you ask," McClain answered, cruelly pinching Lucy's plump ass-cheeks. It annoyed her what a great ass this retarded rookie had. "It's basically people fighting and fucking each other for kicks, although we have evidence that huge amounts of money are transferred after every fight. It seems that there is a huge network of gamblers and viewers spread out all around the world, but the nerve center of the whole thing is right here in Climax City.
"So?" Lucy asked, biting her puffy lips to stop from squeaking when McClain's sharp fingernails dug into the soft flesh of her ass. "I mean, nothing here is actually illegal, other than some of the destruction of public property I'm seeing. Gambling is legal. Organized fighting is legal. I mean, even public sex is mostly legal."
Lucy yelped as the sexy Police Chief spanked her. "Stupid brat. Who care if its legal? The point is its lucrative! There are certain members of the Society called managers, and they're the ones who really win big if their sex-fighters manage to beat/rape the shit out of another manager's fighter. Again, no problem with that, except it is obvious that billions of dollars are changing hands, and not a penny of it is being taxed!"
Lucy stammered from the sheer hypocrisy of what her boss was saying. "So . . . you don't care that people are engaging in disorderly acts of violence and indecent sex for the enjoyment of others?"
Chief McClain shrugged. "No. I mean, you basically just described my high school."
"So . . . you just care that these managers, the ones organizing the fights, pay taxes?"
"That's all the City Council cares about, so that's all I care about."
"But, why are you telling me all this?"
McClain smiled, running one hand down the side of Lucy's body like a hungry lesbian admiring a fresh piece of pussy. "Because, Officer Lockhart, you have the highest scoring aptitude for hand-to-hand combat in the entire force."
Lucy was not the sharpest tool in shed, by any means, but even she saw where this was going. "You can't be serious."
McClain allowed her herself a raspy giggle as she reached under the busty officer's jacket and twisted one of her perky, pink nipples. "That's right baby. You and I are going undercover."
When Tommy awoke the first thing he thought about was how much his ass hurt. And no wonder, he had just lost his first sex-fight, and unfortunately for the hyper-masculine alpha-stud Tommy Gunn, he had lost to a very well endowed bisexual young man. Pietro Xavier, better known within the Society as Poseidon, had humiliated the rookie fighter in the ring, surrounded by an audience of other sex-fighters, and then fucked the very straight 19 year old up the ass with a very big, very fat cock.
Tommy groaned in stiff discomfort as he kicked down the covers of his bed. He was naked. His lithe, muscular body shone in the dim light of the room, highlighting his every sexy groove and perfectly formed part. His nine inch penis was semi-hard, as usual, and despite the recent sexual humiliation of being sodomized by another man, Tommy began to masturbate as he always did after waking up. Strangely, the only images that came to mind were of Poseidon. His blue hair. His swimmer's physique. His baby-fresh face and wicked smile. His hands.
"Hey stud," Poseidon said, pressing his naked body against Tommy's as his strong hands gently ran down the younger man's chest and thighs. "Ready for round two?"
"What the fuck!" Tommy yelled, falling out of bed and backing off to the wall. "What the . . . where am I?" Tommy suddenly realized he didn't recognize the room. It was much nicer than his, and cleaner too.
"My bedroom," Poseidon answered, laying naked on the bed. "Where you belong."
"F-fuck you dude!" Tommy stuttered. He did not like having to question his sexuality this much. The fact alone that he was still erect with only another guy in the room bothered him. "You can't . . . you can't just drag me up to your room like I'm some kind of gay slut!"
Poseidon rolled his eyes. "Uh, actually, yeah. I can. You lost our fight remember? You lost HARD. The rules were that the winner (that's me) gets to do whatever he wants with the loser (that's you). Check the clock, stud. It's only 1am and sunrise isn't for another four and a half hours. And right now, what I really want you to do, what I really, really, REALLY want . . . if for you to suck my dick."
Tommy's eyes fell to Posidon's shredded waist. His shiny, hairless cock was only semi-erect, but it was already over seven inches long and as thick as a woman's wrist. It hung over one of the fighter's muscular legs like a big, fat slug, but Tommy knew just how rock-hard that thing could get. His ass felt like he had just gotten fucked by an iron bar.
Tommy had been staring for a long time. "Fuck you!"
Poseidon rose out of bed and marched over to Tommy, pushing him against the wall. Their hard chests touched, their hard cocks swung together, and Poseidon brought his face centimeters away from Tommy, so that they could feel each other's breathes. Poseidon had very sweet, minty breath.
"Tommy. I'm not an asshole. And I don't force myself on people who don't want it," Poseidon said, only slightly lying.
"I didn't want you to . . . to . . . impale me last night," Tommy said. He hated how hard his cock was getting.
"That was different. That was a sex-fight. You chose to become a fighter. You chose to get in that ring. Sometimes you win, and when you do life is fucking sweat, but sometimes you lose as well, and you just have to bend over and take it. But hey, if you're too much of a pussy to deal with the consequences . . . go ahead. Get out."
Poseidon stepped aside and pointed to the door. He was letting Tommy go. Free pass. No cocksucking on ass-poundings required.
Tommy was going to go for it. He was going to walk right out and pack up his shit, move back in with his mom and go back to his regular life of working odd-jobs and banging easy pussy . . . but when the full weight of that struck him he suddenly realized how amazing this new life was. He had never experienced anything as amazing as living in Chocolate Tower, or participating in the sex-fights, or (in a funny way) getting dominated by another man for the first time in his life.
Tommy and Poseidon just looked at each other, and although no one talked they both understood.
"Good boy," Poseidon smiled. "Now get on your knees and suck daddy's cock."
Tommy slowly descended to his knees, crawled forward like he had seen so many dozens of young girls do for him, with an open mouth and big, nervous eyes pleading pathetically for approval. Poseidon took a hold of his new slut's head and guided onto his swelling member. After a minute of awkward slurping and gagging Poseidon started to laugh.
"Tommy, babe. I've got to be honest with you. Even for a straight boy, you are terrible at sucking cock."
Tommy and Poseidon spent the next four hours making passionate, sweaty, conflicted hate-sex with one another, going from gentle caresses to painful strikes and back as often as they changed positions. Tommy did his best to reclaim some measure of his dominance back from his blue-haired lover, but Poseidon was never on bottom for long. He twisted and teased Tommy in ways the aggressive bully never had before, controlling what he felt and when he felt it. They kissed, licked, and bit every inch of each other's hard, athletic bodies, but it was always Poseidon who mounted and penetrated. He led Tommy around the bed like a king leading a slave, sometimes humiliating him with slaps and pinches, and other times rewarding him with thrusts and strokes.
Tommy was delirious. Sex had always been a one-way street for him. It began in his nuts and ended in some bitch's pussy. He fucked girls in the same way a wrecking-ball refurbishes a building. Rarely would he find one particular piece of ass worth hitting more than once, but it was never about the relationship, or friendships, or love. It was never about anything other than the sex.
Poseidon was different, other than the obvious fact that he was a 20-something year old man. Poseidon wasn't dominated, or afraid, or awestruck by Tommy like girls were. Poseidon just seemed amused.
When 5:30am finally rolled around the sun rose, and the morning meant Tommy was free from his contractual obligation to be Poseidon's plaything. But Tommy, who was biting a pillow to stop from screaming as Poseidon rammed his ass harder than ever, barely noticed at all.
It wasn't until 7:30 am, when the room was bright with the morning sun and most people were already on their way to work that Poseidon finally finished, and he busted his nut all over Tommy's pulsating, perspiring chest. Tommy was exhausted, stiff, and so overwhelmingly satisfied that he allowed Poseidon's twitching tight body to fall on top of his, and locked in that sweaty embrace, the two studs fell asleep.
"Chief McClain," Lucy whined. "I don't think this is going to work."
"Of course it'll work, dumbass," the attractive Police Chief disagreed as the two busty ladies sat in their undercover car, staking out a gym in one of the nastier parts of town. Beggars and prostitutes were everywhere, and Lucy had to keep shooing them away as they came up to the window begging for change or offering to suck her clit for a sandwich. "The plan is perfect."
'The plan was stupid,' Lucy thought but knew better not to say aloud if she wanted to avoid another spanking. McClain had discovered by 'investigating' through some of her private channels (which meant sucking the cock or pussy of the first city official who'd talk to her) that the Society had introduced a relatively new manager to their ranks, one that was new enough that most of the other managers wouldn't recognize them yet. This manager was supposed to be a bitchy Asian-American woman with long legs and big tits, just like Christine McClain herself. Also, this new manager was even said to have a feisty redhead working as her only sex-fighter, not dissimilar to Lucy Lockhart, and that their base of operations was in this crummy gym that the manager owned.
The plan was: infiltrate the gym, identify the manager and her sex-fighter, dispose of them, take their places, thus allowing a breach into the impossibly secretive social workings of the Secret Sex-Fight Society, and then, profit.
"There they are!" McClain said, peering through her giant binoculars. "Oh shit! They don't look anything like us!"
The busty Asian woman, the manager, was indeed large-breasted and long-legged, but in regards to similarities to Christine McClain that was it. The manager was even taller than McClain, a giantess of seven-feet at least, and her body was a swirl of Yakuza tattoos that graphically displayed the people she had murdered and in what ways she murdered them. Her hair was cut short, unlike McClain's flowing black tresses, and instead of the Chief's feminine, angular, beautiful face, this woman had a very masculine profile.
Her sex-fighter was hot at least, but unlike the busty 25 year old Lucy, this girl was a knockout 19 year old with a tall, slender body, and well-shaped but not incredibly large breasts. Her red hair trailed down her back in shaggy spikes, like the tail of a fox.
"What do we do now, Chief?" Lucy asked, hoping she could go home, feed her cats, and masturbate to another one of those old movies with Channing Tatum like she usually did.
McClain took a long, deep breath, and then punched Lucy in the face.
"Oh!" Lucy whined. "What was that for!"
"Just getting you in the fighting spirit! C'mon, fat-ass! We're going to go wipe the floor with those bitches!"
"Pietro, I'm home," Caroline Heart, better known as Miss Cupid, said as she entered into the high-rise apartment she shared with her master/boyfriend. She was fashionably dressed, as always, wearing a frilly low-cut top to accentuate her firm bosom, and a pair of low-rider jeans so tight they looked like they had been painted on her perfect, tight slender ass. Her long blonde hair was pulled back, revealing her slightly curved cheekbones, long eyelashes, and naturally puffy lips.
"Yoga-pants were on sale so I got us both . . . WHAT THE FUCKING HELL!"
"S'up slut," Tommy greeted. He was sitting naked on the couch, watching a morning news show as Poseidon's head bobbed like a blue basketball in his lap, loudly sucking his stiff cock.
Poseidon popped off and started stroking his chiseled fuck-buddy's tired penis. "Hey sweetie. Do you wanna take over for a while? I've already gotten him to cum twice this morning, but number three is giving me trouble."
Miss Cupid dropped the bags she was carrying. Her perfectly groomed eyebrows twitched in horrified shock at what she was seeing. Her boyfriend, her master, her god, the undefeatable and incomparable Poseidon was on his knees happily giving head to some 19 year old punk who she thought everyone was supposed to hate. She had sex with him, sure, and it had been fun, but she only did it because Poseidon told her to, and so she could learn secrets about Tommy. She had enjoyed watching Poseidon fuck Tommy's ass like a jackhammer carving a Christmas ham, but that was supposed to have been about dominance. This . . . this looked like some really gay sex.