Chapter 21 - On Conditioning: Chapter 20

On Conditioning
by Volpone

Chapter 20

In spite of their slightly rough introduction to the folks of Team Harukinu (and learning afterwards in private this was Phoenix Group), Koutetsu and Altair were less upset over things than expected. Both were surprised and even pleased to discover they had trusted acquaintances they knew who had already been rescued, giving them each a familiar face to act as guide and mentor with their new family.

Quinn had expected it to be a typical night where he ended up entertaining their new recruits, but he was a bit surprised (and actually secretly pleased) that their newest members chose to stick with the two who had shown them such an enlightening experience in the arena, namely Ravi and Mellie. 

As this gave him a night to catch up on a promise involving the lovely trainee Chara, the evening's sleeping arrangements worked out quite enjoyably for all involved.


The following day showed just how things were likely to go for the team even with the new roster of competitors representing Phoenix. After Ravi & Nellie had set the bar, it became more a matter of friendly competition among the new arrivals to show who could represent the team best without going overboard and showing the opposition just what kind of people they were truly dealing with.

Doc again offered to do a bit of reconnaissance in his astral form, but Quinn told him not to bother since they were about as well prepared as they could be under the circumstances. They'd simply have to trust in the preparation they'd done and hope it was adequate.

The next Taimanin fighters up were Procyon and Zosma, a pairing Quinn found unusual as he had no knowledge of the two having any association except being captured by Black's people. Still, it was no more odd than some of the others they'd seen.

Procyon was on Quinn's list, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to break up one of the pairs that had been shown to work well together by inserting himself into the mix just to maintain his “claim” on the anti-demon ninja involved.

Another consideration in favor of his sitting out the match was his growing feeling that Black was going to announce his demonstration match versus the two female demons any time, and while he wasn't concerned over the outcome, he'd learned to trust his instincts in such circumstances. If he was wrong, no harm done.

When it came down to making the call, Quinn looked over the teams available.

Ah... our lovely ladies from the DC universe will do nicely.

The teammates Spice and Dru had known each other long before they were recruited for Phoenix, being former members of a popular superhero team in their universe.

Dru was actually the protege of Verita and shared many of the same abilities and strengths in spite of looking very different in appearance. Verita was the archetype of the "glamazon", dark haired and Mediterranean while Dru looked much more like a blonde Baywatch beach bunny. Still, Dru was more than capable of holding her own or she'd never have been a super in the first place.

While Dru made Quinn confident, Spice not only made him feel secure in their victory, it tickled his warped sense of humor. She had been a popular magazine model in spite of her being extraterrestrial in origin, and though she looked like a Miss Universe winner with a custom paint job, she had more than enough strength and combat experience to deserve a spot on the squad. Quinn was looking forward greatly to the consternation she'd cause with her copper-orange skin and green eyes (not just the irises), looking very much like she should be of demonic origin rather than the alien princess she was. The opposition would be completely mystified by someone who looked much more like she should be one of Black's representatives than a Harukinu member. She might have been a relative of Black's lieutenant, Caballera, by her appearance, and that should provide a useful bit of distraction.

Then again, with her pointed ears, nonhuman irises, and highly exaggerated curves, Zosma might as easily have been a refugee from Oboro's group of competitors as well. It was difficult to tell if her particular combination of characteristics was from elven or demonic roots in her ancestry, not that it particularly mattered. She was Taimanin, and that was what counted.

On the other hand, Procyon was quite obviously human. She had incredible, long, silky auburn hair, a very pretty face, and the kind of lush, heart-stopping figure common to the Taimanin ladies. The thing that set her apart was her Bionic Woman nature. All four of her limbs appeared to be cybernetic in nature. How she'd come to lose the originals, Quinn had no idea, but it meant she would certainly be stronger and probably faster than an unenhanced female.

It turned out to be pure dumb luck that Quinn made the right call. Spice and Dru basically walked over the demon and orc team (both males) on their way to their match against Procyon & Zosma, which they also won rather handily. That Spice didn't have any of your typical Earthly religious repression to overcome made her behavior towards the defeated ladies delightfully natural and uninhibited, and Dru looked as if she wasn't a stranger to playing both teams either. The audience might have felt slightly cheated by the two Harukinu not fucking the Arena males (they knocked both entirely off the stage and unconscious, preventing that being expected of them), but the after-show with the Taimanin was quite well received, all four putting on quite the show for the crowd.

As expected, Quinn claimed both of the defeated ladies for the team, but as he was expecting to start heading for the tunnel that took them out of the Arena, Oboro's voice came over the speakers of the auditorium and announced, "Do not think that the evening is over quite yet! For your special pleasure, we are offering a surprise bonus match tonight! Representing the Chaos Arena... Lynette Silky!”

A tanned and toned blonde strode from the Arena team tunnel entrance, moving with easy confidence. It was hard to tell if she was demonic or not since she had none of the positive indicators such as pointed ears, horns, or even oddly colored irises (Lynette's were an intense light sapphire blue). Her thick, blonde hair fell to her tight backside, and behind her left ear was an asymmetrical decoration that looked like a set of olive green colored pointed metal leaves. She wore a typically suggestive but not blatant outfit of gray with orange trim which showed notable side boob , most seeming to be held in place by leather straps and belts. Her arms and legs were heavily armored in dark gray-and-gold metal, and she carried a weapon that appeared to be a purple-pink hybrid of sword and lance over her shoulder. The ease with which she handled it made Quinn wonder if it wasn't as heavy as it should have been if made of solid metal. Whatever the case, it certainly wasn't a toy.

She reminded him somewhat of Capella, the blonde Taimanin he'd defeated the week before. A blonde Baywatch-type, though she appeared a bit younger than typical for that setting... late teens, at a guess, though naturally that was purely a guess when you had underage-looking females who were hundreds of years old running around. She had the same “I'm good... in more ways than one” kind of demeanor that Capella displayed. Her confidence came through without the arrogance the Arena champions had displayed.

Oboro's amplified voice went on.

“And for the Taimanin team, we offer for your enjoyment... Maia!"

The crowd clearly had some idea who she was as many of the onlookers expressed their reaction vocally, many booing since she was an anti-demon ninja while some cheered to have another star Taimanin enter the ring.

Looking nowhere near as confident as her opponent, the striking ninja moved from the opposition side of the Arena. She was naturally gorgeous, long dark blue hair with blunt bangs, Playboy bunny figure, and a surprisingly pretty face considering Quinn wasn't big on red irises. Her get-up was mostly white with dark gray trim, patches of mesh here and there, and conservative compared to most of the costumes paraded through the competition. She was also still somewhat under the influence of whatever drugs she'd been treated with in her conditioning as she seemed a bit unfocused, her movement having little of the precise intensity a trained ninja should display.

They'd known ever since Black provided them with the list of Taimanin in their custody that the attempted coup by Kiryuu had been thwarted. Maia's name appearing on the list told Quinn that because she and Black's hellknight lieutenant, Caballera, were the witch-doctor's primary captives. The lieutenant would surely have ignored Black's orders concerning not abusing or drugging prisoners. Kiryuu had intending to usurp his boss' place at the head of the table, so defying any orders handed down was perfectly within his expected behavior. He'd wanted to draw out Black to get him into a confrontation. He'd also been immature and spiteful, just the kind to thumb his nose at his boss when the boss was elsewhere. As a result, Maia had likely been subjected to much more extensive conditioning than most of the others and would be in no shape to face a serious opponent, making Quinn's intercession much more vital.

Fortunately, she was on Quinn's list of rescues.

Quinn muttered, "Like the man said, 'Some days, it's better to be lucky than to be good.'" And he struck the gong announcing the challenge.

He rose and was about to move towards the stairs when Miranda put a hand out to stop him. Randy was one of his most trusted advisers. She was a genius and a professional operative who managed to live long enough to get out of the business... at least until Quinn convinced her to become part of Phoenix, so when she wanted him to take a moment, he'd gladly do so.

Leaning close, she said softly, “They've seen you fight. I've watched the recordings. The one they'll all remember more than any other... was when you went up against Rigel.”

Quinn considered what she meant. He'd gotten great response from the audience on most of his trips into the arena. Cat Lady... Antares... Bonita...

So why would she single out Rigel's match for him?

The only difference he could recall was that match was the one when he'd played the fool. He was a ham at heart, picking the pseudonym Harlequin because the character was one of the greatest comedy figures of history.

And here he was, playing the boring crime boss when he was much more at home trying to get a laugh (usually a cheap one).

But could he manage to play both at the same time?

Quinn had to admit he disliked playing a stodgy, humorless character. He'd done it so the crowd would accept him in the role. It would have been what they'd expect in a powerful underworld figure. Simply showing up and being a comedian from the start would have made the crowd assume he was a “set up”... a character hired by Black simply to entertain the crowd, and nothing they did was real. He'd needed to establish his gravitas... his professional credentials by he and the team kicking the asses of Oboro's favorites in a way that couldn't be mistaken as just for show.

But Miranda was right. They'd tipped their hand to Black when they admitted they weren't from this reality in exchange for his going along with their rewriting the rules of his Arena (and helping him make lots of money in the process). And the audience had no idea. On the other hand, they already accepted Team Harukinu and even favored them because they liked winners, especially when the winners put on a good performance. Now, it was just a matter of keeping them on their side so they wouldn't jump to Black's aid if it came down to a conflict.

The potential turd in the punch bowl was that these were demons and villains in the audience, not human football hooligans. They weren't known for their sense of humor. They wanted sex and pain.

No, he corrected himself. They wanted sex, pain and humiliation. And ironically, all three were solid foundations for comedy. Anybody who understood comedy knew it was founded in misfortune and tragedy, just presented in a manner that brought out the absurdity.

So why couldn't he do both? He could play it off as if he was so good he didn't have to worry about protecting his professional dignity, and hopefully the audience would likely enjoy it even more.

And that was why he liked having Miranda along as an adviser. Sometimes she saw things he was too close to see.

He flashed her a slight smile and replied, “I guess it's time to be a clown again.”

With that, he vaulted over the railing to land lightly below in a classic three-point superhero pose.

Maia had been hustled back offstage at the sound of the gong, but Lynette Silky was watching him carefully. And if he was any judge, his little demonstration had given her a moment of “oh, shit...” He rose and strode easily to the stage, sprung up onto the canvas surface... and tripped, doing a full somersault but coming back to his feet with a look of “I meant to do that,” which he actually had. He dusted himself off (a purely symbolic move since the stage was cleaned regularly), but it drew chuckles from here and there.

Good. That means they get the joke.

The irony was he couldn't know that Oboro was starting to feel a bit of panic and was squeezing her fighters as a result. Caballera was back and Black again had her at his right hand, and if anything, the hellknight was even more solidly in her position of influence over Black than before the Kiryuu fiasco. That meant Oboro's grip on things was slipping. She needed a win in the Arena against the Harukinu team to turn the situation around, and beating the smug leader of the opposition was the ideal way to do it. If he was defeated, not only would the agreement between him and Black-sama be over, she'd have secured her lord and master the ladies in Quinn's team. That would make Oboro his new darling while ending the possibility of losing her continuing revenge on Vega, and she wanted that to go on for a very long time.

Lynette had been told very clearly what rewards would be waiting if she beat won against a Harukinu fighter. She also been promised a spot as Oboro's favorite and the position of Arena champion if she should win against Harukinu himself. It was more than she'd ever hoped to achieve as part of Black's organization.

The Arena manager had also made crystal clear her intense displeasure with any fighter who had the chance to beat Harukinu and returned empty-handed. Black's protection extended to the Taimanin fighters only, leaving Lynette and any others at the mercy of Oboro and her minions if they failed. Considering the record of Team Harukinu, it was not a cheery prospect.

Lynette was actually smarter than many of her compatriots. She'd hoped to use her brains to slowly move up in Black's organization while staying clear of Oboro's wrath.

It was a cruel irony that she'd been picked for a job that looked tailor-made to make that impossible unless she could pull off a miracle.

And Lynette had very little faith in miracles unless she could arrange them herself.

That Harukinu had elected to forego a weapon was not lost on the audience. This stopped the odds from being too badly one-sided in Quinn's favor, but still didn't make the majority think this would make any difference.

The betting fell off quickly, and Oboro quickly brought it to a close.

“Begin!”

Lynette took her weapon from resting on her shoulder and brought it to a position where it was in an en garde position.

Before her bigger opponent could do anything, the blonde Arena gladiatrix began to swing her weapon in a slow circle as she called out, “Busou Ankoku!” (“Darkness Armament!”)

As she did, the light began to fade around her in a growing hemisphere, almost as if someone was playing with the arena spotlights, but the effect was not explainable that way. The darkness seemed to radiate from Lynette, sucking the light from the area around her as the region of blackness grew larger and more intense. It looked almost like octopus ink flowing outward from the petite blonde without any of the eddies and currents affecting it as would happen underwater.

In just over five seconds, a dome of blackness had engulfed over half the stage, leaving Quinn standing at the edge of the region of dark. Every bit of visible light had been swallowed, his opponent swallowed entirely within the inky void.

Quinn looked at the audience and raised his hands in a shrug, clearly indicating, “Oh, well... I guess we better get on with this.”

And disappeared into the black.

There was utter silence in the arena as all the onlookers strained to hear what might be happening. Seconds ticked by and still nothing disturbed the eerie stillness.

The quiet was broken with the sound of a grunt followed by a thud and then metal striking the stage. It wasn't a clatter such as a dropped weapon might make. It was more as if a weapon was swung and struck at an angle, swinging on to come in contact with the canvas.

Then there it was impossible to tell what was happening as the sounds came fast and continuously. There was an occasional pause when the crowd was able to hear what sounded like the combatants straining against one another, possibly struggling over control of Lynette's weapon, then the noises from the darkness would continue, telling of the continuing battle.

It went on this way for several minutes with nothing to indicate how the fight was going.

Then things went quiet once again for several moments, then the straining ears of the crowd could begin to make out sounds... familiar and distinct sounds...

It was then that they began to notice that the darkness was starting to fade, light encroaching gradually on the obscure region around the combatants.

And as things grew clearer, the sounds from the fading gloom made much more sense as the two figures were resolved.

The growing light revealed both competitors engaged in an entirely different kind of physical challenge, Lynette kneeling, bent forward at the waist, arms bound behind her back by her own straps, naked chest pressed into the canvas, her weapon laying off to one side with a notable bend about a third of the way down from the tip. Quinn knelt behind her, his left hand pulling her back by her thick hair as his hips drove forward and shook her shapely form as he fucked her. From the look on Lynette's face, she wasn't in the mood to struggle any more, her eyelids at half-mast, her lips parted in a slight smile. She started responding vocally to what he was doing to her, and from her reply, doing it rather well. There were no words to her response, but her voice was expressive nonetheless, encouraging the victor to take the spoils he had earned by her defeat.

It seemed she was being a bit too lazy in her role for his taste because he brought his right hand down sharply against her ass, making her exclaim and jerk, and her ass started to move to meet him, a bright pink print of his hand glowing against the tanned skin.

Since this got a good response once, Quinn decided to try it again, the flat of his hand making her give a squeal that brought a number of laughs from the audience. From the way her hips responded, Lynette thought his chastisement was just fine with her, the second hand print showing vivid on her round rear cheek. The blonde was growing more vocal, as were the onlookers, the vulgarities aimed at her clearly not making Lynette worry in the least, the growing wet spot beneath her testimony to her eager participation.

The second swat seemed to light a fuse under her, because she started whining, “Itai... itai... itai..itai..itaiitaiitaiitaiiiIIIIIIIII!!!” and Quinn put an exclamation point on her shout by bringing his hand down hard a third time, Lynette jerking heavily in reply, her cry becoming a squeal as she came.

Quinn slammed his hips forward hard and stopped, showing everyone in the arena that the shaking of his prisoner was not from his fucking her. She continued to keen and quake, impaled as she was and unable to react any other way.

Looking down at her largely stationary ass, a broad look of comic speculation came over his face, telegraphing his line of thought to the crowd. This brought on quite a few onlookers shouting for his to go on, and so he reached down with his free hand, this time not spanking her but inserting his middle finger into her puckered sphincter.

Lynette gave a surprised exclamation and jerked harder, getting a bigger laugh from the crowd. Before she could prepare herself, a second finger joined the first and he started to masturbate her hard and fast, holding her prisoner on his cock by his firm grip on her hair as he violated her ass with his other hand.

Her tone of voice changed immediately. Her eyes grew wide, a look of sudden surprise taking over her as she bit her lower lip in a clear attempt to control her reaction, and her voice became a loud, wordless whimper in an attempt to express the conflicting messages of pain and pleasure battling for dominance in her. Tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes, but the reason for them was far from clear, both feelings threatening to overwhelm the lovely blonde able to cause them.

After just about ten seconds of this, it looked as if the scale of her emotions tipped in favor of the pleasure side and she gave a frantic cry of “EEEE! EEEE! EEEE!” and her body bucked, a rain of her fluids spattering the floor beneath them as her orgasm made her lose what little control remained. 

A few moments later her cry cut off, and some thought perhaps she'd passed out, but the shot of her face on the jumbotrons above showed was still conscious, her eyes open and staring almost in shock. Either she'd never experienced anything like what she was feeling before or she was simply overawed by the pure intensity of it. Whichever the case, she was clearly in no condition to resist.

Quinn leaned around to the side to get a better look at her, a over-the-top grin of satisfaction showing at her reaction.

Taking advantage of her inability to offer the slightest protest, he pulled her into an upright kneeling position, her head tilted back, the mask of shock still frozen on her face.

But this new position clearly brought the difference in their heights into play, making her far too short for him to remain embedded in the pussy clasping him so tightly. He made several comical grimaces as if he were stuck inside her and unable to withdraw, then suddenly popping free with a look of intense relief. This caused a widespread chuckle through much of the audience, a number of cat calls heckling the blonde who seemingly didn't want to let go.

Still, his stiff-standing prick was clearly not satisfied yet, and from his kneeling position behind her, he looked her over in an obvious attempt to figure out some new place to insert himself. He checked several possibilities, mugging as if considering each as a potential home for his unrequited erection until his hand disappeared between them and Lynette's body involuntarily stiffened a moment, his hand clearly discovering a location he seemed to find acceptable.

With a broad grin, he settled his knees wider apart to lower his pelvis without changing her posture, and he wiggled his hips side to side in a kind of comical imitation of a batter taking his stance to await a pitch, then thrust forward suddenly as he entered.

Lynette didn't make a sound, but that didn't mean there was no reaction. The look of shock in her eyes remained, but her mouth dropped open as if dumbfounded, making it clear exactly where he'd discovered to put his cock. She hung like that for several seconds until Quinn shifted his grip around and got a firm grip on her breasts, mugging for the crowd as if saying “Ooh! Look what I found!”, and as his hands gave her full chest a hearty squeeze, he withdrew far enough to thrust forward firmly again, shaking her with the impact of his hips striking her toned ass.

Ejaculate splashed across the stage as Lynette's body reacted, hanging there in his grip, much of her weight suspended by his grip on her breasts and his cock in her ass, and her eyelids drooped to half mast as she clearly accepted this new circumstance, the corners of her open mouth tugging slightly upwards into a vapid smile, sliding easily from shock to ahegao.

The cat-calls were obscene and accompanied by considerable laughter, showing that the crowd was clearly enjoying the performance.

Quinn began mauling her chest, squeezing and pulling towards her perky nipples that were just a shade deeper than her tanned skin as his hips drove forward quickly, fucking her ass rapidly and shaking her with each push.

Lynette's head fell back against his shoulder, tears again leaking from the corners of eyes that appeared drugged in their heaviness, there being no more doubt as to their cause, her silly smile encouraging the taunts she no longer  heard.

While her brain might have gone into neutral and her muscular control fled, her lovely tanned body still functioned even if it was on automatic now, and after about fifteen seconds of having her anus stretched around Quinn's thick cock, she gave another jerk and squirted even harder than the first time, milk spraying from both nipples as his hands milked her cruelly and her body soared, applause and cheers greeting her very wet orgasm.

In just a few moments, a chant began among the stands... the same chant that had taken hold the very first time he'd been victor in the arena against Cat Lady...

“Squirt! Squirt! Squirt!” more and more of the audience chanted.

It seemed well timed because just eight or nine chants later, Lynette obliged them, milk and ejaculate spraying from her body as it spasmed, the loud response from the crowd drowning out those who continued to chant for several seconds before those cheering fell back into rhythm with the rest once again.

Quinn kept this up, using the lovely blonde in his grasp to gather the audience into the Harukinu camp of fans even more until he felt the trembling of Lynette's body continuing far more than her rising spiral of orgasms would likely account for, and a quick check of her nervous system told him she was bordering on exhaustion, ready to drop the moment he released her from his erotic support. He started to exaggerate his movements a bit more, letting the crowd know that he was building up to something. Keeping tabs on her rising pleasure from inside her mind, he timed it so that she was just about to tip over the edge into a tremendous climax on her own when he removed the block on his own orgasm as he gave her a solid ten-point-oh jolt to her pleasure center.

Her muscles contracted as if she'd been hit with a taser, everything tightening at once, and that included the muscles controlling her ejaculation and those ringing her sphincter. Her tight puckered little anus squeezed down as if she intended to strangle his cock, but all that did was guarantee that the load of his cum jetting into her ass wasn't able to escape for the moment. Her juices squirted hard and spattered over the canvas from her knees to several feet away before they cut off.

And as he anticipated, she went limp, passing out cold just moments after her earth-shaking climax had peaked.

Quinn released his hold on her as if unaware of her being unconscious, and her limp body started to collapse forward, her abused ass pulling off his cock as her weight shifted and she began to fall.

“Oops!” he exclaimed as he caught her before she could do a face-plant into the stage, hoisting her limp body up as he stood.

“I claim the fighter Lynette Silky as a member of Team Harukinu by right of conquest,” he announced, and strode to the edge of the stage with his prize draped over his shoulder, stepping down and carrying her to the team box.

As he settled the unconscious form into a seat next to his, Miranda said softly, “I didn't think you were intending to bring home any strays,” gently reminding him that his actions were perhaps not the smartest. He had made a point of not rescuing several females who were clearly victims while here he was claiming a female who was part of Black's organization and potentially a spy.

Leaning close enough to not be heard by anyone else (the roar of the audience assuring this), he explained simply, “It appears we have a defector.”

