Gladiatress Pt. 01

Introduction

Three hundred years from now, the world is very different. The Great War has decimated the human population and left large areas of desolated nuclear wasteland. The war destroyed most of civilisation's infrastructure leading to the Great Fuel Crisis as the world ran desperately short of stocks of fossil fuels. At the same time, global warming has turned most of the earth's surface into desert, and water has become a precious commodity. Large population centres were completely decimated and survivors have been forced out into the wilderness: most now live in areas of jungles, countryside and deserts to avoid the threat of radiation sickness.

The peoples of the world are scattered across the globe and have collected together in gangs or tribes, seeking safety in numbers. As a result, civilisation has regressed to a medieval feudal society where the strong rule over the weak and life can be brutal and short. Selen counted herself lucky to live in a desert town like Taraath which, as well as an elected town council, had its own well and a diesel generator to provide electricity at night.

The sun shone relentlessly from the cloudless blue sky, its harsh light reflecting off the red sandstone walls that seemed to rise straight up out of the baking hot sand of the arid plains. In the far distance vultures lazily circled, effortlessly hanging in the air as they rode the warm currents rising from a rocky outcrop.

The guard stood on top of one of the thick walls, leaning on his shield. He removed his thick leather helmet and mopped the sweat from his brow. It was a market day and from the city-side of the wall he could hear the sounds of the many souks: the loud chattering of the townspeople going about their daily business, traders shouting about their wares, the persistent beggars, excitable dogs barking in the distance. The smell of the town was carried on the warm, dry air: the aroma of exotic spices and roasting meat from the many food stalls made him realise how hungry he was. He shaded his eyes and looked out over the domes and minarets protruding above the dusty roofs. In the middle distance was the biggest market, the slave market, which would be at its busiest this weekend. Beneath him was an area known as "el n'makhta", which roughly translated as "the streets where everything is for sale" in the local dialect. A maze of narrow alleys filled with men in traditional white robes and women in colourful headscarves. Shop owners lurked in shady doorways and tried to lure passers-by into their shops by promising rock bottom prices for precious stones, exotic animals, illicit drugs, home-brewed alcohol, girls of whatever size or colour you wanted. Whatever you needed, you could get it there for the right price.

Outside the thick stone walls, he watched as the tribesmen erected their tents near the cool shade of the ramparts. Beneath him were the Osensi tribe, a small peaceful tribe with thirty or forty white tents that spilled out into the bright sunlight. Further down the wall, he could see the dark red tents of the larger and more hostile Na'inari tribe and beyond that the pale blue tents of the Jalengi. He could see the smoke from the campfires of another three or four tribes camped on the other side of the town walls near the north entrance.

He watched as groups of tribesmen and women gathered outside the large wooden gates of the south entrance. As their numbers swelled, they waved their arms as they shouted up at him impatiently and repeatedly rang the small bell next to the gates. He sighed, took a swig of lukewarm water from his canteen then descended the creaking wooden steps and, along with his colleague, slowly heaved open the gates. It had been like this all day; large numbers of people coming into the town for the annual festival, and the guards had been instructed that every man, woman and camel had to be searched for weapons. The town council was determined that there wasn't to be any fighting between the tribes like last year.

Near the large fountain in the town centre, the early evening sun baked the corrugated tin roof of the bar until it groaned and creaked. Selen could feel the oppressive heat radiating down from it as she served drinks to the hordes of customers. She'd been on her feet since 3 o'clock and was already looking forward to the end of her shift. Because of the extra demand, she'd agreed to work till midnight at twice her usual rate. She noticed the stranger at the end of the bar lean forward and push his empty glass towards her. A group of locals had been drinking since mid-day and they laughed and joked loudly. She had to dodge their outstretched hands as she passed them.

"Come here," laughed one of the swarthy men, "I fancy some white meat for dinner tonight!"

She sighed. It had been like that ever since she left the orphanage and started working here three years ago, her fair skin and blonde hair making her stand out from the darker-skinned locals wherever she was.

"So I hear you're fighting in the tournament tomorrow," the stranger said.

"That's right," Selen said, taking a bottle of the local spirit from under the counter and refilling his glass.

"Hey, didn't I see you fight last year?" he asked.

"Maybe. I competed last year, and the year before. Made it to the final round last year but..." Selen left the words hanging in the air still unable to accept her ultimate defeat.

"That's tough, sounds like you're desperate to get into the academy," he replied.

"Yeah, so I'm trying again this year but if I don't make it maybe I'll just have to accept it's not for me and find something else to do with my life."

Selen looked him up and down as he raised the glass to his lips and downed the fiery liquid in one gulp. It was clear from his toned, athletic build that he was here to fight too, probably one of the many fighters who made a living on the circuit. He was tall with dark eyes and olive-coloured skin. His dark, wiry hair matched his wiry but athletic frame. He looked like the kind of man who had a 'girlfriend' in every town on the fighting circuit.

"So you're a fighter too?" she asked, noting the twinkle in his eyes as he placed his empty glass on the bar.

"Yeah, I've come to town just for the fight tomorrow. I'm hoping to get into the academy too. I'm Hassan by the way," he said, offering his hand.

"Selen" she replied, taking it. He held her hand for a little longer than necessary their eyes meeting across the counter. She couldn't help noticing that despite his name and dark skin, there was something western about his blue/grey eyes and his accent and she wondered if he was mixed race, like her.

"Hey how about some service down here, white meat!" one of the regulars shouted, making Selen jump back and pull her hand free.

"A man could die of thirst around here," he grumbled to no-one in particular as she refilled his glass.

---

After the war, society had regressed and become more brutal, and primitive sports like boxing and wrestling had become increasingly popular. Especially in desert areas where outdoor sports simply weren't practical. The academy was the town school for gladiators, split into male and female halves. Once they graduated, even ordinary professional fighters could make a comfortable living. The top fighters were idolised by fans and could earn huge amounts of money. This made the schools very popular and usually students could only get in by buying a scholarship, which meant that most places went to teenagers with wealthy parents. If you were poor, the only way of getting in was to win one of the qualifying tournaments and this was Selen's last chance this year. Her only chance to get away from doing this demeaning bar work and do what she felt she was born to do. She was already twenty-two and she felt time was slipping away.

This weekend was the highlight of the annual festival of light. There had been street markets all week and the town was packed with traders from all over the country, including the elders of all the local tribes. Tomorrow, there was the big slave market and on Sunday there was a big music and dance event. But tomorrow evening was the highlight: the wrestling competition at the arena attached to the academy.

Selen had been busy all week, training hard and working extra hours as the bar owner had promised to pay her double her usual rate. He had plenty of money right now. He'd rented out all the rooms behind the bar at treble the standard rate, including hers, so she was staying with her sister at the moment.

As the evening came, the temperature dropped from very hot to just hot. As the customers thinned out Hassan pushed his empty glass across the bar shaking his head when she offered him a refill.

"Yeah, I definitely remember you from last year" he said, sounding slightly slurred "you were good."

"Thanks" she replied.

"Yeah, great physique, great technique, very agile"

"You're too kind, feel free to carry on" she joked as she polished a glass.

"I think the only thing I thought you lacked was a bit of heart"

"Heart?"

"Yeah, a bit of aggression, a will to win whatever the cost"

"I prefer to rely on good technique and fitness," she said, bristling slightly at his criticism.

"Well you know, that'll get you so far but tomorrow everyone you fight will have good technique. No, at this level it comes down to who wants it most."

"You think?"

"Yeah, this is your dream, you've got to grab it Selen. Do whatever it takes, you've got to know what you want, then take it" he said, thumping his fist against the bar's surface passionately.

"I guess you're right..." she said.

"You want to be working here all your life?" he said, casting his eyes around the bar.

"I guess not" she replied thoughtfully as she polished the bar top then noticed one of the regulars trying to get her attention. "Anyway, I've got to go but maybe I'll see you tomorrow."

"OK, maybe we can get a drink afterwards" he said, getting up, then turned back to her.

"One more thing: be wary of the girls from the tribes. I've done that circuit. It pays well but they don't fight like us town-dwellers. They fight dirty, and if you want to win you have to be prepared to fight dirty too"

---

The next day Selen got up early and checked in at the academy. All of the fighters that wanted to stay overnight were assigned rooms and Selen seemed to have got lucky. It turned out that most of the trainees were away on their summer break and she'd been assigned a huge room that would normally sleep four. It had a large sleeping area, nearly a third of the room covered with several large futons and scatter cushions. The rest of the wooden floor and some of the bare walls were covered by colourful, intricately-patterned rugs. A large window was cut into the thick walls.

The other end of the room was dominated by a large table and six chairs. Hanging over the back of one of the chairs were her official tournament uniforms. Both uniforms were Lycra and the rules stated that the contestants could wear nothing else, not even boots. Fighters from Taraath normally wore green and so her 'day' uniform was a tight white cut-off t-shirt and lime green shorts. Selen decided to try them on and soon she stood in front of the full length mirror in the adjoining bathroom. She was a quite tall, slender blonde with a trim athletic figure. The "t-shirt" was more like a sports bra and it clung tightly to her chest doing little to hide the swell of her cupcake breasts. The 'shorts' were more like hot pants and they clung tightly to her pert buttocks like a second skin. As revealing as it was, it wasn't as revealing as her 'night' uniform, a tiny green bikini. She held it up between her hands: the top was just two small triangles of material held together with spaghetti-thin straps! Well, she thought, maybe she wouldn't make it to the final stages and she'd be spared the embarrassment of wearing it in public.

She changed back into her street clothes then unpacked a few possessions and walked down to the notice boards at the bottom of the stairs where they'd posted details of the first round of fights. She quickly ran her finger down the list till she found her name and noted that she'd been paired with "Na'ina", a name she didn't recognise.

"Sounds like she's from the Na'inari tribe" said a voice behind her. She turned around to see a girl with a similar frame to her but slightly stockier and shorter, her glossy brunette hair cut in a neat bob. Selen noticed her fingernails were painted the same bright orange as her shorts. The girl looked vaguely familiar.

"Did we fight last year?" she asked.

"Yeah, you beat me in the second round but no hard feelings, eh? I'm Melea," she said smiling and offering her hand. Selen shook it.

"You were really good, it was quite close, wasn't it?" Selen replied, recalling the difficult but ultimately triumphant tussle.

"Not close enough for my liking" she said, and laughed revealing even white teeth. They chatted for a few minutes, Selen warming to Melea's friendliness and optimism before she made her excuses so she could get ready.

Round 1

Selen waited nervously in the tunnel. It was late afternoon and she could hear the crowd cheering the final stages of the previous contest. She glanced across at her opponent, who she guessed was about twenty years old. An attractive girl with thick dark curly hair, dark brown almond-shaped eyes, thick black eyelashes and smooth, even skin the colour of faded leather. She had a gold nose stud, lips that seemed set in a permanent pout and was dressed similarly to Selen in a tight white t-shirt and blood red shorts, the colour of the Na'inari tribe.

The tunnel led out onto the arena, a large powder blue circular fighting area surrounded by concentric circles of steeply raked wooden benches. They followed the referee out and Selen felt the springy rubber surface beneath her bare feet. It was still quite early in the day and the benches were only three-quarters full. The three middle-aged male judges wearing their dark-purple ceremonial robes sat apart from the other spectators to one side. "In the green shorts, a local favourite fighting out of Taraath... please welcome Selen!" the referee shouted, and Selen raised her hands in the air and waved as the crowd applauded politely.

"And in the red shorts from the Na'inari tribe...please welcome Na'ina!" he continued. Her opponent accepted the cheers of the crowd by striking a pose and flexing her impressive biceps. She was shorter than Selen but looked a lot stronger and Selen resolved to try not to get drawn into battles of strength on the floor.

"This is a standard 'day' fight; the winner is decided by a submission or two falls. Now I want a good clean fight," the referee said to them, "no spitting, punching, kicking, biting, gauging or hair-pulling. Is that understood?" Selen nodded.

"Whatever" her opponent said, turning and casually waving to someone in the crowd. The referee looked over at the judges. The head judge nodded and gave him a thumbs-up.

"Now fight!" he shouted, bringing his hands together as he stepped back.

They circled each other warily for the first few moments, sizing each other up, each trying to grab each other's wrists.

"Come on bitch, let's see what you got," the girl taunted, suddenly lunging at Selen aggressively. Instinctively Selen grabbed her wrist and pulled her forward, twisting her body at the same time and throwing the girl over her hip. The crowd cheered as the girl hit the floor with a loud thud.

"Think that's clever, huh?" the girl snarled scrambling to her feet and running back at Selen. Selen repeated the trick using the girl's momentum to once again propel her over her hip, the girl's firm backside thudding onto the rubber matting even more loudly.

"You wait till I get hold of you, bitch," she snarled, springing to her feet again as the spectators behind her pointed and laughed.

This time she rushed at Selen and managed to grab her legs so that they fell to the floor together, arms and legs entangled. This is what Selen had been trying to avoid and soon the superior strength of the girl showed as she slowly manoeuvred herself behind Selen and tugged her arms behind her back. They were both in a sitting position now, Selen in front and held between Na'ina's legs which were wrapped around her stomach, her ankles locked together. She groaned, feeling the breath squeezed out of her as the girl's thick muscular thighs squeezed her torso. She wriggled and struggled but couldn't stop the girl pulling her arms behind her back rendering her helpless.

"Not so clever now, are you bitch? Huh?" her opponent growled, her lips brushing Selen's ear. With the blonde's arms folded together, Na'ina could hold both wrists in one hand, leaving her other hand free to lightly slap Selen's face as she taunted her, trying to provoke a reaction from Selen, trying to make her lose her composure.

"Nice hair" she said, roughly tugging the clip from Selen's scalp so that her long blond hair spilled over her shoulders.

"Nice and strong" she taunted as she grabbed a handful of Selen's blonde locks and pulled her head back painfully.

"Nice tits too" she said crudely, her hand squeezing one of Selen's boobs through her tight t-shirt. Selen noticed that she had a large tattoo of a scorpion on the inside of her wrist as the girl's hand firmly squeezed the swell of her breast.

Selen felt herself blushing and looked up to see the spectators' reactions. They happened to have landed so that they were facing a group of young men. Although it was only late afternoon, it looked like they were already on their fifth or sixth beer of the day and they cheered and whooped excitedly as Na'ina's hand groped her breasts lewdly.

"What do you think boys? Nice tits, huh?" Na'ina shouted and they cheered even more loudly as the girl roughly fondled her boobs through the thin Lycra.

"Get it off!" one of the lads shouted, spilling his beer as drunkenly stood up.

"Yeah, take her shirt off!" his friends shouted excitedly.

"Hey what are you doing? Careful!" Selen exclaimed feeling the girl's hand tug the bottom of her t-shirt up over her stomach.

"Off! Off! Off!" the lads started to chant, clapping their hands excitedly. She struggled but Na'ina still had a vice-like grip on her wrists and without warning yanked her t-shirt upwards revealing her pert, young boobs.

"Yay! Woo! Great tits!" the lads cheered wildly, all of them standing up now and punching the air.

"Hey, referee, do something!" Selen shouted angrily. "There's nothing in the rules stopping her doing this" he shouted back over the noise of the crowd, shrugging his shoulders as he ogled her naked breasts jiggling as she struggled furiously to free her arms.

"What's the matter slut?" Na'ina teased, her hand stroking the smooth skin, "I hear you work at a local bar so I'm sure it's nothing these men haven't seen before".

"No! Stop! Bitch!" squealed Selen as the girl's fingers pinched one of her nipples painfully, finally provoking a reaction from her.

"Why not submit now and save yourself from further humiliation?" Na'ina asked as her skilful fingers tweaked and squeezed Selen's sensitive nipples until they were swollen and hard.

"More! More! More!" chanted the lads, clapping their hands.

"Come on, submit and I'll let you go" she whispered, grabbing a fistful of golden hair and tugging Selen's head back.

"Never!" gasped Selen defiantly. With her shoulders and head pulled back, her back was arched and her boobs were pushed outwards and she felt herself face burning, blushing furiously at the humiliation. Now Na'ina tugged her backwards so that she was lying flat on top of her, her arms still trapped between their bodies.