Conning the Arena 10

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#10 of Conning the Arena

Olag attempts to find a way to get info on the last fights, but faces complications.

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Conning the Arena

Chapter 10

Sponsored by GlynWolf

By Draconicon

The tournament continued apace, and Olag and his 'team' continued to win. Bit by bit, they fought their way up the rankings, and they started to earn the attention of those higher up. The polar bear heard security and other staff members of the ring mutter under their breaths about better match-ups than the ones that they were getting, how they might have overestimated the bear compared to the other three that were hitting so far above their weight in the arena, but they were trapped with the current match-ups. The line-up was such that Olag was the one getting whammied by the worst of them, and the others only had to deal with a comparatively less dangerous group.

Combined with Shelly's knowledge of what their opponents were augmented with, they were able to make short work of them in the arena. The giraffe, rat, and mouse were heading right to the top with him.

Or at least, that was how it felt while he sat in the corner of the barracks watching the latest fight. Shelly was the last one to face someone in the current bracket, and he kept flicking his gaze toward the screen as a distraction from his own thoughts. The brown-furred mouse was fighting hard against a Doberman that had been given faster legs and searing soles, ducking and dodging one kick after another to stay on her feet and out of harm's way.

She's got the speed, at least, Olag thought.

"What's the plan when this is all over?" Verk asked.

"Hmm?" he muttered, turning away.

"What the hell do we do when we actually get through this?" the rat asked again, leaning forward. "You say that the rich guy's gonna buy us when we win. How the hell do we get away from him?"

Olag arched an eyebrow. Verk had been pushing that point for the last couple of days, always nudging for an answer for the next part of the plan. At first, he'd gone along with the bear saying that they'd figure it out when the time came, but the closer the finals came, the more desperate the raggedy rat seemed to get.

Truth be told, he didn't have a clear idea of what they'd do next. He was mostly focused on getting them to that first goal-post. If they couldn't get there, then any further planning was pointless, and they still had one more fight to deal with before they could actually get over that finish line. And that was the dangerous part.

"We'll figure it out."

"No, we need a plan," Verk said. "Pirn didn't have a plan coming down here, and look what the fuck happened to us. If we're 'figuring it out' getting out of here -"

"If ya keep talking, someone might snitch to security and ruin it before we get the chance," Olag muttered.

"..."

"Ya wanna get outta here? Then trust me. I'll figure it out. One way or another, we'll get our freedom again."

Even if it meant going a little too far with Bradford when the whole thing was done. That asshole of a Golden Retriever was useful right now, but he seriously doubted that his boss would care if they were a little rough with the fucker on the way out. Hell, the mouse might like it if there was a little less competition when he came down and started carving out a space for himself. A vacuum invited opportunity, after all.

He looked back at the screen. Tense as the situation was, he couldn't deny that it was hot watching people fight in the buff. He'd had Shelly enough that her asshole was starting to show between her cheeks as she danced from foot to foot, her puffy pucker no longer modestly hidden between her legs. He smirked every time that he saw it, his cock rising slightly between his legs as he watched her duck, bob, weave around three rapid kicks -

"That's it, bitch...right in there."

He chuckled as the rodent darted in, punching the Doberman right in the balls. Her opponent doubled over, falling to his knees with a wheeze, and the mouse kept going, kicking him in the face and shoving him against the electrified edge of the arena.

That'll keep him out of it. Good girl.

"Looks like we're going to the finals," Verk muttered, shaking his head. "What now?"

"Now...we figure out a plan."

"Now? For that?"

"Yep."

Because the finals were going to be a shit-storm. Shelly had been their ace in the hole in terms of keeping them all on the up and up, but the last part of the competition involved match-ups with one of the other barracks in the ring. The mouse knew a shit-ton about the barracks they were in, what everyone was capable of, but when it came to the other ones - which were also equipped with better ones, sometimes, from what Shelly had told him - her knowledge was lacking.

She'd admitted this. He knew this, Verk knew this, even Pirn knew this. It was something that had been on the horizon for a while, and...

And they didn't really have a way around it at the moment. Except for a really, really dumb idea that Olag had stashed in the back of his mind that he really didn't want to follow up on.

"Come on," he muttered, getting to his feet. "Let's get Pirn and wait for Shelly to get back."

"What are we going to do?"

"Whatever we can come up with."

"No, seriously, what the hell are we going to do?" Verk muttered, leaning in and pulling on the bear's shoulder. "We can't just seduce that asshole. Once we win, we're going to be fitted with obedience devices. That shit isn't going to take us in, not all free-willed. If he buys us, there's no way that we can just fight our way out."

"Maybe not you..."

"No, I'm serious. They're gonna put implants in all four of us that'll control us. The only way it'd work is if we cut the fucker's head off before he says anything. The second we get an order, we're forced to obey. Do you understand that? Do you?"

More than he wanted to admit. The number of times that he'd gone through various experiments with the boss's science officer had made it damn clear how hard it was to fight that sort of mental control. Malfust, that fucking peacock, had made it clear that he wanted to find out just what was giving Olag the power that he had to keep fighting, too, and the peacock had been waiting after every match for the bear to fall to his knees and need medical attention.

So far, he'd defied that asshole, showing the bird the finger and staying on his feet, but if he won and went back...

Or if he lost and went back...

"I'll figure it out."

"I need to know! I can't...I can't just go in blind again."

That was something that he understood. Pirn and Verk had been partners, both of them looking into what this underground arena was for, what it was doing. From what little he had been able to glean from the pair of them, they'd both been very confident coming down that they could get out again without a hitch.

Showed what happened to those that got overconfident, he supposed. He shook his head as he glanced at the doors, at the other competitors. They were studiously avoiding looking at him and the rat, and he and Verk were both keeping their voices down, but he lowered his voice further. The last thing they needed was to have one of the other competitors get tempted to take this to Malfust, or one of the guards. If that happened...

Well, the plans would be blown, for one, and the rest of their escape would get a hell of a lot fucking harder. Olag pulled the rat closer by his ear, ignoring the hiss and wince from his partner in crime, and whispered.

"The second I know what the hell we're doing, I'll tell ya, but get the fuck off my back. If I can't figure something out, I'll tell ya; for now, ya gotta trust me, and stop freaking out, or we're all fucked. Got it?"

"Nnngh...got it..."

He let go, shaking his head. They were riding the razor's edge, and if any of them lost it, they'd all go plummeting down. His best hope if things went fucky was to just let the thing inside take control, to let it go wild and hope that security was too scared to go all out against him. There was the barest possibility that he might be able to take out the worst of the security features, break a hole to the surface that would get his boss's attention, but...

But he couldn't rely on that. He had to play it cool, hope that he could find an opening with Bradford, and then ride the Retriever all the way back to the surface. Preferably with a hint of knowledge of where the fuck he'd been, where all the other competitors were, and where his boss could go to find all this shit. Because all these fighters going up for sale on the black market with augments and implants like this was going to throw the balance in the upper world all to hell.

The doors to the barracks opened. He turned, expecting to see the mouse bitch brought back by the guards, but instead, four of the armored grunts stepped through. They pointed rifles at him, and Verk rapidly pulled away, leaving him alone.

" Callahan wants to talk to you again," one of them said.

"...Looks like Rich Boy needs me again. Fine. Take me to him."

If nothing else, he'd have a better idea of just how much he'd have to 'bribe' the asshole again. Much as he hated to admit it, they needed the Retriever and the pull that he had over Malfust as much as they needed his muscles and Shelly's info.

#

The guards left him in Bradford's private quarters, and the hydraulic door slammed shut behind him. He looked over his shoulder, imagined that he could punch a hole through the inches of metal, and shrugged off the slight discomfort of being locked in a room with the perverted asshole. He crossed his arms as he turned back to the reclining canine, cocking his head to the side as Bradford kept his eyes on a datapad.

The silence was not atypical. The few times that they'd met since the deal he'd made had been rather like this. Rich Boy always gave him the quiet treatment, acting as if he had better business than the arena, and Olag always let him do it. Mostly because he didn't want to start fighting over something that didn't matter that much.

Of course, it was an act. The way that Bradford always looked over the datapad and licked his lips while taking in the bear's body made it clear that he was more interested in Olag's presence than he was in whatever he was reading. The fact that the dog was often dressed skimpily - today it was just a dressing robe that was as transparent as it was too small - and showed off his erection in the process only made it that much more obvious.

Olag just let it happen. He kept his arms crossed, his cock dangling over his balls and hanging well down his thigh, and waited.

Eventually, the dog put the datapad to the side and sat up. The oval room always felt smaller than it should, particularly considering the low ceiling, and today was no exception as Bradford chuckled.

"Malfust is starting to push really hard for the chance to look into you, Meat," the dog said, shaking his head. "I thought that he was just being a sore loser, but after some of your fights, I'm starting to get curious, myself."

"Ain't a mystery. I'm just that good."

"Good enough to stand up to a wrecking ball of a rhino that's supposed to be able to crush steel in his bare hands?" Bradford chuckled. "Good enough to knock an orca to the floor that was supposed to be able to stand up to explosions at point-blank range? Good enough to take lasers to the face and keep on coming?"

The polar bear shrugged. Some of those had been harder than the others, admittedly, and there were times when he should have gone down from it, but he needed to give a good show. And more than that, he needed to show that he wasn't going to be beaten. The thing inside had given him portions of its power to stay on his feet for that rhino, though. It had...been harder, that time.

"I told ya. Ya want the best, and that's me."

"You're certainly the best fighter that I've ever seen, no arguments there, Meat. But there's only so long that I'm willing to wait for answers. Particularly if there's ways to use you to improve others."

"There ain't. It's just me."

"You say that...but I wonder if it's true."

The Golden Retriever got to his feet, closing the short distance between them before reaching down and groping the bear's balls. Olag growled deep in his chest as he had his testicles bounced, rolled around in the other man's palm. Fingers that were surprisingly dainty stroked up the bear's cock, working towards the tip, and Bradford slid his pointer finger just under the bear's foreskin, rubbing the tip of his cock directly.

It worked embarrassingly well to get his dick rising, soon leaving it throbbing in the air before the other man. The dog chuckled, giving it a few strokes before letting go.

"Of course, I remember our deal. That you'll give me the best fighter in the arena if I keep giving you the chance to prove it, and keep Malfust off your back. I imagine that you probably will, at this point. You and your little friends have been remarkably interesting to watch, and I'm sure that you're going to reach the finals...if I have incentive to keep to our deal."

"What the fuck are ya talking about?" Olag growled.

"Oh, don't play coy, Meat. We both know that you need to keep me satisfied. That blowjob last time was a good start, but I need something a little more than that, now. After all, what's the point of supporting someone like you if I'm not getting something out of it? Promises are promises, after all, but a good business needs at least a few payments on the way."

"Payments? Ya think that I can just -"

"Call it 'interest,' Meat. Now, what kind of 'interest' can you show me that'll keep me inclined to keep to our deal, and make sure that Malfust doesn't give you a surprise 'medical exam' before your final match?"

"You..."

Olag gritted his teeth, fighting the first reaction that rapped against the inside of his skull. This was not a bad thing, he told himself. If he could just show off a little, give the other man something to enjoy for a few minutes, then the deal stayed on the right tracks. More than that...

I need to get back to the medical wing without Malfust there. He's got all the records of what he's done to all the fuckers in this ring. If I can just see the records...

He needed another favor, and he wasn't going to get that without the goddamn Retriever's help. And he hated that. He hated that almost as much as he hated Bradford.

"Ugh...fine..."

"Turn around for me, Meat. Let me see the other side again."

Olag's pride was not happy about the arrangement, but he knew that he had no real choice. He turned slowly, fists clenched at his sides. Much as he told himself that he was doing this because he had to, he knew that he had to keep up the reluctance. If he showed too much willingness, the asshole would start thinking that he liked this, or worse, that he was trying to play the Retriever for a favor. Neither of those would end up going well for him, and he needed to make sure that the other man actually stayed in the dark.

"Mmmm, looks like that ass is still just as fine as it was the first time I saw it," the canine said. "Hold still."

He did, and he knew just what was coming. Olag growled deep in his throat as Bradford grabbed his ass, holding his cheeks tight. They didn't 'jiggle', considering that he had enough muscle back there to keep them from wobbling overmuch, but they were round and large with that same muscle. He huffed between clenched teeth as they were forced apart, a thumb rubbing right over his pucker.

"Looks like those overnight tendrils are doing what they're supposed to do, Meat. You weren't this loose before."

"Rrrrr."

"Lean over."

The tendrils from the goo pits had been there every night, pushing into his urethra and up his ass alike. He was never sure just how far in they went, but when morning came, there was no need to use the toilet. He, and all the other fighters, were kept clean inside and out by the goo pits. And it had done something to him, considering that the minute that he leaned forward, the asshole was able to slide his thumb past the bear's pucker with ease.

He hissed through clenched teeth, thinking of many different violations that he could put Bradford through in the future as that digit slid in and out, in and out, each time thumbing past his rim and going that little bit further. More than once, it ended up rubbing right over his prostate, sending unwilling teases right down to his cock and making it bob up and down. He growled louder, which only seemed to entice the canine.

"That's it. A good beast under me. If you win -"

"When."

"Heh, confidence is a sexy thing. When you win, I'm going to enjoy seeing you break properly. A good little rut after your first implant will do it, I'm sure. You may be strong, but I doubt that you have the mental fortitude to withstand the real power of this place. And someone like you under my heel will be more than an ample trophy for my gatherings after this..."

"Mmmph."

"And then I can enjoy all that you have up front, too," the dog said, chuckling to himself. "But until I can enjoy that thing under my tail, I'll just enjoy this taut little ring under your tail."

That thumb became a finger, and then two fingers. Olag had no choice but to stand there and take it, his cock bobbing and throbbing from the constant stimulation. Much as he hated the idea of anyone under his tail, there was no denying that there was enough stuff back there to get stimulated. The docs had always enjoyed sending him to prostate exams, considering it was the only fucking way to get him up and throbbing from butt-stuff being done to him. This was no less humiliating, and in some ways, far more so, considering he could feel the intent behind it.

"Have you ever had someone make you cum this way?" Bradford asked.

"Mmmph...no."

"Maybe I should keep you here until your final match. See how long it takes to get the great bear to spray the wall with my fingers up his ass. Maybe we can get up to fisting before you have to go for your fight. Certainly would be an interesting way to spend the hours."

Olag harrumphed, shaking his head before he could stop himself.

"Try it, ya fucker. Try it and I'll turn ya into fucking paste on the wall."

"Don't you try and talk back, now. Remember, your fate relies on my help."

Two fingers became three, and he growled out loud as he felt the first burning heat of friction along his hole. It was intense, and more than a little uncomfortable, considering just how deep those fingers were going now. He huffed and puffed, shaking his head rapidly as the three fingers fanned and swayed inside of him, tickling his prostate and forcing his rim out further, leaving him feeling it much, much more.

"What's the matter, Meat? Don't you enjoy getting off? I thought that you liked your cock getting all stiff and drippy, considering how much you've been teasing yourself in the barracks?"

"Mmmph...fucking others..."

"Enjoy it while you can. When you're with me, you'll only use that when I give you permission. And I won't give it often. This meaty rump of yours is going to be more than suitable when I'm recovering from those sessions. And I don't think that an owned bear needs to use his dick more than, I don't know, once a month?"

"Rrrrrr..."

"Now, lean forward."

The bear's pride warred with his plan, and it took everything that he had to force the pride down. He leaned against the wall, and he closed his eyes as the third finger was joined by a fourth. Just one little bit -

No, complain. Complain, now!

"NNNNGH!"

For the first time in his life, Olag let 'pain' show on his face. For the first time, he let himself react as if it was far worse than it was. Every trained instinct that he had from his childhood onwards to suppress pain and pretend that it wasn't so bad got squashed, and he whined as if this was agony to have four fingers stretching his hole.

It wasn't comfortable, of course, but it wasn't as bad as he was making it look. Yet, it worked; Bradford immediately pulled his hand back, staring in shock as Olag kept the act up by slumping forward, huffing and covering his ass with one hand.

"Nnngh...fuck...fuck..."

"That...that's your...weak point?" Bradford whispered.

"Hurts..."

"No. No, no, no, you can't be hurt. I have too much money riding on you, you -"

"Too much...nngh..."

"Fuck. No, no, I have millions on this stupid bear..."

...Gotcha, Olag thought, hiding his grin as he kept his face against the floor.

He needed to get to Medical again, but in order to get there, he had to be sent there. To be sent there, he was either going to be shipped to Malfust for experiments, or he needed to be seen as injured so that the others would want to fix him up before another fight. He couldn't get injured in the barracks, not without taking a massive hit to the reputation for fighting off threats to the people that he'd taken under protection, so Bradford was his only choice. And that man wasn't going to do it without having to follow through on his threat to leave Olag with Malfust...unless he had made a lot of bets against the other competitors and he needed the bear to win.

As the Golden Retriever ran for the communicator, Olag kept his head down, whimpering in a way that he never would have done even as a kid. He was going to sell this fucking injury for all that it was worth; if nothing else, it'd keep them from tying him down once he got to Medical, and that would mean that he had the freedom to find the fucking records without having to deal with everything else.

#

It went better than he hoped, but not quite as well as he would have liked. One of the nurses, a wolf male, had taken the time to inject him with a sedative rather than tying him down. No sooner had the medical professional done so than the wolf straddled him, furry ass pressed right against his still-hard erection.

It had been a short round of anal, to be sure, but the wolf had gotten off and sprayed Olag's chest before getting off the table. The wolf in question moaned happily from the ride, but didn't bother to turn on the restraints. Instead, he hobbled off towards the bathroom. Considering the fact that Olag had allowed himself a 'sleep orgasm,' he imagined that the canine was going to be busy scrubbing out his insides for a while. There had been quite the mess afterward, and most of it had still pooled around his balls.

Once he was alone in the main room, Olag rolled his legs to the side, grunting as he forced himself to his feet. It took more effort than he'd like, and he was dizzy as could be, but he was still conscious, and he didn't have anything holding him down. That was a win as far as he was concerned.

"Horny little fucker," he muttered, glad to at least have lost the erection for now. He wobbled as he got to his feet, holding one hand to his forehead and the other to the exam table until he caught his balance. "Right...right...records..."

He remembered Malfust having a series of them, mostly accessible from the various consoles. One of the 'exams' early on had been in this room, or one just like it, and he'd seen the peacock accessing his records from the terminal. Looking around, he saw the little square on the wall that seemed to be the terminal in question, and hobble-wobbled his way over to it.

Tapping his finger against it brought the screen to life, and it asked for a password and username. Olag growled, leaning his head against the wall.

What was that trick...Tatyana, what the fuck did you say...

The fucking tigress was the computer wizard, not him. He didn't work with this shit unless he was breaking it. But she said that there was always a way to break into a system, particularly the mid-range ones. Old ones didn't have the complexity that allowed one to manipulate them properly, and the cutting edge stuff was too fast and too secure to really breach, but for something mid-range -

Restart, interrupt start, open-access safe mode.

That was it. He looked down for a restart - there it was. He tapped the icon, let the terminal beep, boop, beep - tapped it again. A half-formed logo faded, and the monitor opened up with a text box asking if he wanted to start it in safe mode.

Gotcha.

Once it had confirmation, the terminal opened with a list of different folders and sub-folders. They were all marked as non-editable, but that was fine; he didn't want to change anything, just read it. He scrolled down to the journals and experiment files, opening them until he found the folder that contained his name. Seeing the barracks it was attached to, he exited that folder and went back to the other one, marked its name, and then flicked through to see whether there was a listing for the battle brackets for the final.

Come on, come on, where the fuck are you? Don't got the time for this...

The screen swayed and shifted before his eyes, and it was taking all his willpower and an arm against the wall to keep from falling forward with the strength of the sedative in his system. Anyone else suffering a dose of this would have been out cold for a fucking day, he was sure, and he was just barely managing to hold it off. He had to find that info, or he was going to be in the shit.

Where...where...

The letters wobbled before his eyes, but he caught the words 'match-ups.' Desperately, he tapped the folder.

There it was. The brackets for the fights were laid out, and he saw the names for all their opponents. Olag muttered them under his breath again and again, committing each one to memory before backing out and going back to the other barracks. The names were still in his head, and he worked through it one by one.

"Pirn...against...Velma..."

The giraffe's opponent, an aardvark. Female. Enhanced with speed and armored back for rolling attacks. Meant as a wrecking ball. Extra-sensory to tell where her targets were as she went from place to place. He had ideas already, but was moving on.

"Verk...against Timothy..."

Putting the rat against a tiger. That was all kinds of shitty to start with, but it looked like someone had given this one ranged attacks. Air-cutters were spliced in against his claws, and his teeth were enhanced with venom. This one would be one of those dangerous fighters, but it looked like the venom, once activated, flowed back as well as forward. Something to think about.

"Shelly...fighting Nero..."

A black jackal. Less implants for this one, but what was there was concerning. Fast-healing, it looked like. Someone that was fitted with an experimental metabolism booster, both increasing their speed and how quickly they recovered from anything done to them. Olag wanted more details but had to hurry on.

"Me..."

His eyes fuzzed over for a moment, struggling to see. The name faded for a moment, then came together again. Bachus. A donkey, it looked like. He managed to open the file -

"Hmmph. And here I thought this would be the opportunity to see what you looked like from the inside."

Malfust. Olag slowly turned from the terminal, panting as he looked down at the peacock. The smaller male stepped forward, hands behind his back as he shook his head, long lab coat swirling behind him.

"When I heard that you'd been sent to Medical, I thought that this would be a golden opportunity. And yet, what do I find? A half-drunk bear that's barely staying on his feet, and trying to be a sneaky little pest for our operation?"

"..."

"What, too out of it to try and lie? Try and defend yourself?"

"Ain't like...I could say much now."

"No. But you can answer this."

The peacock pulled his hands from behind his back, holding out a pistol. He aimed it right for the bear's chest, and Olag looked down at the barrel. It was broad, and he could just barely see the glint of the slug that was deep down inside the thing. It was just big enough to cause him some serious problems.

"You respond to trauma. You say that I won't be able to find out what gives you your strength. Let's see just how true that is, shall we?"

"Ya don't want to do that," Olag muttered.

"Oh, but I do. Let's see what you have inside you, shall we? For science."

BANG!

Olag stumbled back, slamming against the wall from the pure force of the bullet hitting his chest. The ripping, tearing pain of his ribs breaking and his chest being ripped open by the bullet was bad enough, but as he coughed blood, he could feel a vibration from the bullet itself. It was rattling around inside him, bouncing near his lungs, actively punching the air right out of them.

"If you have a way to survive this, then do it. Show me what you have inside of you. Show me just what makes you strong. If you can beat this...then do it."

Oh, you fucking idiot...

The thing inside of him was already forcing itself past all the boundaries that the bear had set on it. The blood coming from his chest froze over, becoming nothing more than a crystallized flower of red that no longer flowed. The hole in his chest, likewise, was plugged with the freezing blood. As the cold grew, chilling the blood and freezing the bullet punching the air from his chest, Olag's stance steadied, and the metal beneath his feet began to shimmer with the chill that spread across it. He wheezed, one eye slowly going a deep, glowing blue as the thing that he'd carried for so long and kept suppressed seized hold of the opportunity.

Kill...break...destroy...

Malfust stared, his mouth falling open as the bear's body started to crack, ice splitting through his flesh and rolling out of his shoulders. His muscles grew stronger and harder, and everything popped as it grew. Not just broader, but taller, bigger. The bear's head hit the ceiling, looming over the peacock, and he growled. The sound was deeper than ever, the sound of glaciers cracking, the sound of the avalanche roaring down the slopes, with the keening cut of wind freezing the space between.

Kill...break...destroy...

"What...what..."

Olag watched his hand grab the peacock by the throat. The spirit had taken charge of a limb already, and he had no way to actually slow it down. He gave up on trying to keep it from killing Malfust; if he was going to do anything to stop it, he had to focus on what would happen afterward...and do his best to ignore the silent screams of the peacock as the scientist's vocal cords froze on contact.

The End

Summary: Olag attempts to find a way to get info on the last fights, but faces complications.

Tags: M/M, Humiliation, Embarrassment, Fingering, Domination, Blackmail, Nudity, Slavery, Arena, Golden Retriever, Polar Bear, Peacock, Blood, Dark, Gun, Series, Shot, Pre-Cum, Masturbation, Anal, Orgasm, Cum,