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Gladiator's Fury

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Riddick lifted his head at the sound of someone being hauled down the hall by force. Someone female and from the Avaiki system by the accent. He admired the way she could call somebody a shit eater without saying "shit". A man yelped in pain and a meaty smack put an end to the cussing.

He rolled to his feet and stretched. He was alone in a cell that in a normal slam would have housed four men, six if business was good. It boasted the unheard of luxury of a separate toilet; with a shower. No taking a leak or dump out in the open, no fighting a crowd for a place under the hot water or just to be left alone. Not that most cons challenged him but there was always some nut job that would try- once.

Hell, before he tried to escape and killed a guard, it had even boasted real furniture. Now he was down to a mattress on the concrete floor and some blankets to keep out the chill seeping through the steel walls. Even that was better than Butcher's Bay where they just threw you in and expected you to fight for such things.

But this wasn't a slam. They weren't making their money warehousing human refuse, even though most of the men here either came from or should be on their way to a no-daylight slam so deep the cockroaches got the bends.

Gladiatorial games, blood sports, human dog fights and Riddick was one of the dogs whether he wanted to be or not. And not all the doors on the tier were locked.

His was and the fucker with the key just pulled back the door and walked right in.

"You did well today, Riddick," The General Manager stood in the slash of light from the hall.

Riddick resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. Boredom had driven him to take part in the sparring. The "Trainer" put him with a punk. Riddick toyed with him for a bit before putting him on the mat. If he'd realized that's what it took to get privileges back he would have done it weeks before.

"Keep it up and you'll be ready for the arena and then-" he scanned the cell, the bare walls and nonexistent furnishing. "Until then you've earned a little treat." He stepped aside as the guards shoved a woman bodily into the room.

"Pus and puke eaters." She hit the floor on her shoulder and rolled up to a crouch but didn't try to get up right away. Not while the guards had their cattle prods out.

One of the guard, the one that wasn't bleeding, smacked her. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"I'll kiss yours." She ducked another blow.

The GM backed out with a slight smile. "You said you liked a woman with some fight in her. Break her in and she's yours."

"I know what I said..." he trailed off as she turned and tried to incinerate him with her mind.

"If you don't want her we can take her to Monroe," the GM shrugged as if it didn't matter.

"No, I got it." Riddick had seen her at dinner, glaring at the world; one eye hazel brown, the other half shut from a hell of a black eye. Maybe without the bruises and the attitude she would pass for comely, nothing amazing. But when she dished out his mashed veg she had made eye contact and didn't flinch away from his strange, silvered eyes. She looked into his eyes and not at them. There was something in that steady gaze that made his cock twitch.

Since then the guards had tuned her up again. Her nose was broken and there was fresh blood seeping from her lower lip. Looking at her now something more murderous twitched, but he wasn't ready to tempt the guards and their cattle prods either.

"Have fun, Riddick," The GM smiled smugly and waved the guards out of the cell.

She waited until the door shut before launched herself at him. She attacked with more skill and ferocity than he expected. He blocked the strike to his eyes and she aimed a kick, not to his balls, he was expecting that, but to the base of his knee. The side of her shoe scraped down his shin. He had to hop to avoid getting his instep stamped on. He blocked a jab and another kick. Then tangled her up in his arms and tripped her face first onto his pallet. He landed on top of her.

"GET. OFF. ME." She delivered each word with an elbow to his ribs.

"They expect me to fuck you in to submission," His mouth was centimeters from her ear, his nose buried in her hair. Under the smell of institutional soap was the hint of coconuts. "They expect me to fuck you until you bleed, fuck you until you can't remember a time when I wasn't. Until you liked it."

She froze under him.

He whispered into her ear. "Or together we can get out of this fucking hole."

She bucked sideways and almost got out from under him. It was enough for him to let her turn over. "They're watching," he mouthed and flicked his eyes up. He let go of one wrist and she raked her nails across the side of his face.

"You don't have to be that realistic," he muttered as he fought to get that hand back under control, to pin both wrists in one hand so he could unfasten and shove his pants down.

Let them watch his ass bounce if it turned them on, from where the cameras were they shouldn't be able to tell he was too far down her body to do her any harm.

She tried to bite and when that didn't work she screamed almost directly in his ear. That left him half dazed. She called him a maggot, a liver fluke and accused him of giving his mother grum worms, what ever they were. By then he figured he would have gotten off and rolled off her.

"Go get cleaned up." He stood up and tucked his cock back in his pants. "There's a shower in the head."

She skittered around the edge of the room, tugging at her skirt and holding her blouse shut. He caught a glimpse of firm and seamlessly tanned breast as she went passed.

"Hey Snout!" Riddick pounded on the door until the security grill opened.

"What?" The screw's eyes were glazed, probably from watching the show.

"Get her some new clothes and an ice pack." In a real prison the guard would have slammed the grill shut and come back with friends to realign Rididck's attitude.

But this wasn't a real prison, and Riddick was a potential money maker. Sickos would pay and pay big to see brutal men, murderers kill each other. Riddick was the hardest of the hard men they'd gathered up. They'd give him what he wanted, up to a point.

The grill started to shut, "One more thing." Time to see where that point was.


"Tell the GM I want the camera gone. This is the last time you pigs jerk off over my woman. Got that?" Riddick turned his back on the door.

A woman, in his cell, his woman or at least his responsibility. He had swore off responsibility after they court martialed him. After that, why bother caring? But then the Hunter Gratzner crashed on that hell hole of a moon, just three of them survived. He left them as soon as they hit civilization so the bounty on him wouldn't hurt them. And now...

They kept the fighters on a short leash, but the servants had more range if not freedom. And he need all the intel he could gather. She had some moves, he could teach her more. This could work out.

The shower was running when Riddick came in, but she was sitting on the toilet. She looked up for a moment then went back to watching the water hit the wall.

"Go ahead," he tilted his head at the shower. "Nobody is watching." He'd used a shiv made from a drawer runner to tear out the camera before they'd cleaned him out.

"If I don't will you rape me again?" She asked

"Don't know why your panties are in a bunch, they're still on."

"That is a technicality." She bit off each syllable and spat it on the floor.

"Woman..." He ground his teeth "Monroe would have done it. He'd still be fucking you, with a club if he couldn't get it up," he said, "Is that what you want?"

"What I want is to not be here." She stood up and got in his face as best she could. Her nose only came up to his Adam's apple. "To not have some stranger pin me down and assault me. And most of all I don't want to be told that it was for my own good. You will never break me. Every time you try it will be recorded and there will be a reckoning. You can count on that."

She sounded so serious, like she thought she could follow through. It was absurd. "What's a grum worm?" he asked an absurd question in reply.

She blinked but answered, "Intestinal parasite, causes diarrhea, anemia and impotence." She deflated and sat back down, "It's passed by fecal oral contamination." She pulled her feet up and huddled there on the shitter.

"What's your name."

"Michaela Cotton."

"Nice to meet you Mike." He held out his hand, "I'm Richard B. Riddick."

"The pleasure is all yours Dick." She ignored it.

"Michaela." H took a breath then let it out slowly. "I fucked up, and got caught. They said it was this or get ghosted. So I signed on the dotted line before I knew what I was in for. Now to get out, I need help." And fuck but that cost him to say that. "I need somebody who can move around some. I need information before I can figure out a plan."

"So you expect me to act like the good little victim playing nice and scurry around gathering your crumbs? And what? You promise to refrain from raping me?"

Time for a down payment, "Stand up and give me your hands, please," he added when she hesitated. "If you ever get in this sorta jam again, don't fight. Smile, either reach up," he put her hands on his face like a caress, "and gouge out the fucker's eyes or go down and rip off his balls." He did NOT demonstrate that move.

She moved her thumb to the bone under his eye, "I don't think I can do that."

"Gouge out an eye?"

"Smile." She pulled back her hands.

He nodded, "Think about it." He left her to shower or not.

The screw had come through with the clothes and ice pack so he tossed them in to Michaela. Then he slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor with his knees up. He had always thought if he didn't actually stick his dick in without asking first he was on the side of the angels. He thought that if she knew he was trying to protect her... Now he wasn't so sure and he was locked in a single room with a guilty conscience and a woman that hated him. Okay not one room, she could barricade the head and leave him with no place to pee.

Michaela came out wearing a pink baby doll nightie over her skirt. She had set her nose and was holding the ice pack on it very tenderly.

"Fucking screws," Riddick shook his head and climbed to his feet. "I'd give you something for pain, if I had any. Get some sleep."

The head was still steamy and he stood in front of the sink taking a very long time to brush his teeth. Images and sensations kept sneaking up on him. The feel of her hands on his face, the way she'd looked at him at dinner, the glimpse of her tits and the warmth of her body under his. Then there was that last look of hate and rage and the blood would drain right back out of his cock.

He looked at the man in the mirror. "Maybe she would've hooked up with you to keep the wolves at bay, but that's all. No big loss." It tasted like a lie.

He'd hoped that she would be asleep by the time he got out. She was huddled against the wall and the hitch in her breathing told him that she was trying to keep silent as she cried. He would have left her alone but the floor was too cold to sleep on. He stripped down to briefs and tank top before sliding in next to her. He turned so they were back to back.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to the darkness.