03-11-2023, 02:58 AM
Trash
-------
As they walked the dark hall, she muttered something, but he wasn’t focused on any word she said as he stared at her ass bumping side by side, perfectly with the bass thumping in the background. Alistair was pent-up; it had been weeks, the perfect tension for fighting.
Suddenly, he entered a large, dimly lit room. Large brick pillars broke the room up. In one corner was a bar, another a dance floor, a third a lounge area, and in the middle, a fighting ring. It was eye-level, with a frosted glass floor, lit with a bright blue light.
Alistair didn’t get to look too long; Jade kept walking, weaving in and out of people, swiftly walking through the crowd. They passed through other doors, a concrete hallway, and finally through a black curtain.
“You can change here and keep your stuff.” “Get out of my way; clear a spot!” Jaded pointed and yelled at another half-dressed man to get out of the way. Jade turned to walk away. As she did, she turned to say, “You have 35 minutes. Be ready and meet me out front. Win or die.” She flashed her only smile—a smirk.
Alistair looked around. Concrete walls, a shower with several men showering. Soaping up, blood and suds fell down the curves of their bodies to the floor. Nail marks and scrapes lined their backs; bruises tatted their thighs.
Alistair looked around the room. Every size and shape of a man was in this room. Many could be future opponents, so he sized every one of them up. Even the size of their dicks was something he smugly criticized, tearing them all down in his head one by one. They were nothing to him, trash, an inconvenience.
Alistair looked at his watch. It was time—fight number one.
This was now very real. No longer would he be involved in fixed fights or taking falls. Every fight was going to be for real. The mysterious patron he had not even met yet, expected he would win.
Period.
-------
As they walked the dark hall, she muttered something, but he wasn’t focused on any word she said as he stared at her ass bumping side by side, perfectly with the bass thumping in the background. Alistair was pent-up; it had been weeks, the perfect tension for fighting.
Suddenly, he entered a large, dimly lit room. Large brick pillars broke the room up. In one corner was a bar, another a dance floor, a third a lounge area, and in the middle, a fighting ring. It was eye-level, with a frosted glass floor, lit with a bright blue light.
Alistair didn’t get to look too long; Jade kept walking, weaving in and out of people, swiftly walking through the crowd. They passed through other doors, a concrete hallway, and finally through a black curtain.
“You can change here and keep your stuff.” “Get out of my way; clear a spot!” Jaded pointed and yelled at another half-dressed man to get out of the way. Jade turned to walk away. As she did, she turned to say, “You have 35 minutes. Be ready and meet me out front. Win or die.” She flashed her only smile—a smirk.
Alistair looked around. Concrete walls, a shower with several men showering. Soaping up, blood and suds fell down the curves of their bodies to the floor. Nail marks and scrapes lined their backs; bruises tatted their thighs.
Alistair looked around the room. Every size and shape of a man was in this room. Many could be future opponents, so he sized every one of them up. Even the size of their dicks was something he smugly criticized, tearing them all down in his head one by one. They were nothing to him, trash, an inconvenience.
Alistair looked at his watch. It was time—fight number one.
This was now very real. No longer would he be involved in fixed fights or taking falls. Every fight was going to be for real. The mysterious patron he had not even met yet, expected he would win.
Period.