Fray - Panryn's first combat (excerpt)
#2 of Excerpts
A freshly enslaved Panryn is sent in the arena for the first time, and is pitted against a rather aggressive opponent.This is an excerpt from a story I am still writing called "Fray". By the time I post the full story, I'll likely make some changes to this specific passage, so consider this non-canonical.
[...] The half-elf heard the crowd cheer with more vigour than before, signalling the victory of one of the gladiators. He had only seen one enter the arena, but even without knowing who the small lynx would be up against, he wouldn't have bet a lot of money on him. It didn't come as a surprise then that the next contender was called without seeing the lynx come back.
"You're next after this one."
Panryn gave his master a small nod. He'd been sold a few weeks earlier to a middle-aged dwarf bearing the marks of the Silver Bond on her bald head, and had been training daily in preparation for his first fight. He wasn't mad at her, not as much as he was at himself. Having himself sold slaves to fight as gladiators in his not-so-distant past, it was only fair-play.
It also meant he knew a thing or two about the shows, like how his lithe stature meant he served more as an opening act of sorts. Looking around and seeing he was the last of his size category, he figured the proper show would start after his defeat.
The horns blared outside, and the crowd's cheering diminished slightly as it focused on the action, eager to see who would gain the advantage. Panryn took this opportunity to close his eyes, travelling away from the barely-lit corridor to picture his homeland's prairies. The wind blew against his skin and through the grass. The small stream that passed through the village before diving into the sea was quiet as it ever was, safe for the occasional rock or fallen log it splashed against...
When he opened his eyes, the wind turned into cheering from a crowd that surrounded him from all sides and the stream became a ringing in his ears, either from the sudden heat of the sun or from the fear of fighting, he could not tell.
From the other end of the arena stood his adversary. To Panryn's surprise, he looked as frail as himself, the short brown fur of the wolf failing to hide the lines of his bones on his arms, chest and legs. To the side, lined up against the wall of the arena and in plain view of the audience, the defeated contestants were bound in pillories, including the lynx who had meekly entered earlier.
In courtesy, the half-elf gave a small nod towards the wolf, who responded with a snarl as he strode towards him at an intent pace. Playing with two wooden short swords, turning them in his hands, his eyes were fixed on Panryn, who chuckled slightly at the angry wolf, trying his best to conceal his increasing worry. Though he didn't know if it would help him much, he had picked an ordinary pole.
The horns had already just marked the start of the fight, but none of the fighters had done more than carefully approach one another. The gates behind them suddenly closed, which seemed to startle the brown-furred warrior as he started running towards his opponent with a yell.
The first few blows were dealt, and for the most part parried with their wooden weapons. Each strike triggered a new wave of cheers from the audience, but Panryn was too focused on the fight to note their derisive tone. Right now, there was only him and the wolf, and he was sure it was the same for his adversary.
There were many times since the fight began where he could have suffered a mortal strike, or dealt one himself. Thankfully that wasn't the objective here. People enjoyed the fighting, not the death, and when arena fights evolved to include another form of entertainment appreciated almost universally among arena spectators - turning "kill your enemy" into "sexually dominate them" - the popularity in such events saw an immense rise, and the steep decrease in deaths helped meet the increasing demand for slaves.
Panryn was glad to have been matched against a fighter of his stature. Despite the aggressive attitude of the wolf, he felt he at least had a chance to win. Even if he didn't, he was glad he could last long enough for the fight to be entertaining.
The wolf's wooden swords were becoming annoying. He was comfortable with a staff, but it was difficult to parry the attacks of two weapons. Panryn focused on the wolf's movement, which thankfully wasn't too expert. With a thrust, he hit the ravenous wolf in the wrist with enough force to send one of his weapons flying. With a now empty hand, the wolf seemed to hesitate for half a second, but his eyes promptly filled with renewed fury, and he attempted to simultaneously strike the half-elf in the sides, and grab his staff.
He only succeeded in one of his goals, Panryn having shifted his pole to parry the wolf's single weapon. This put him in an awkward position, and it took no effort from his rival to grasp his weapon.
Locked in a grapple, they both could feel the anticipation rise from the cheering around them, the crowd seemingly aware that the tide of the battle was about to shift in favour of one of the two fighters. It was only a matter of keeping the balance until the other gave way, which the wolf was not intending on doing. He chose to drop his other sword to better pry the pole away from Panryn's grasp, and when he did he promptly let go of it to grab at whatever part of his opponent he could, probably planning to make him trip to the ground.
None of that happened. The half-elf deftly sprung back two steps before pouncing towards the wolf and tackling him by the belt. They both hit the ground at the same time as the staff that had been thrown away, and Panryn was momentarily faced with his opponent's erection. He paid it no mind as he climbed on top to prevent the wolf from getting back up or kicking him away.
Now that it looked like they were finally getting to the good part, the crowd cheered a bit more sincerely with the two fighters' fall. After rolling around in the sand, Panryn thought he had the wolf pinned, but when he turned to the side he could feel his grip miss his enemy's fur, and he worried that would be his last mistake for this fight. The wolf was thankfully slower than him, and he managed to wrap his limbs around him from the back, sliding his own legs between his opponent's to force them to the ground, and locking a single arm underneath his armpits, holding the wolf's arms behind him.
This left a free hand for Panryn to reach around the wolf, now on top of him despite his best efforts to break free, and grab hold of his cock. When he started lightly jerking it, the wolf protested angrily, but he could tell he was struggling less and less with each stroke.
"Care to give the crowd what they want?" he murmured in the wolf's ear. This only earned him a growl, but what had been attempts to break free a few seconds ago, though not much different for distant eyes, was now an accompaniment of Panryn's jerking in the form of upward thrusts of the hips.
"I'll eat you for this!" the wolf shouted between two snarls, his voice surprisingly strong. The half-elf interpreted this as an attempt to act tough, and given the circumstance that was as good as he was going to do.
By the time he climaxed, the wolf had not been able, despite his thrashing and struggling, to break free of Panryn's tight grasp. In a half-growl, half-moan, he erupted, drawing a roar from the crowd as his seed flew above the pair, splattering in a succession of straight dashes over and beyond them.
Panryn loosened his grasp and wiggled free from underneath his defeated opponent, and licked the seed off his hands as he stood back up under the crowd's cheer. The wolf laid on the ground, eyes closed and dick throbbing at the rate of his breathing, visibly exhausted by the intense fight.
The half-elf looked to the side and saw his staff lying on the ground, next to one of the wooden swords he had managed to throw off. He stepped over and grabbed it, and glanced at the wolf as he was taken by arena guards. While he was still conscious, his body was limp in their grasp, and his expression conveyed a sense of fatigue and dizziness. As they made their way to the row of stocks that held the contestants who had previously lost, Panryn began to worry about him.
He had no time to wonder if the wolf's health would be properly seen to, as his attention was soon caught by the opening of the gates on the other side of the arena, and he prepared to face his next opponent, still struggling to believe he was victorious in his first. [...]