AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I have to admit, it amuses me.
I think about what she said. About how we need to fool them all so they think I am tamed. I hate the thought of it, but I am growing weary of this cage and these cuffs. When they bring out the hose and spray me down, I bite back a snarl of anger and decide I am tired of that, too. I am tired of shitting in a corner. I am tired of crouching next to these cuffs all day long. I am tired of a great many things.
This is not how a champion should go out.
Sitting in a cage, covered in my own filth? Cuffed? I should be in a glorious battle in an arena. I should be fighting to the death in front of thousands who call my name. Not this. This? This is not worthy.
And so I consider what the female said.
They will not hesitate to put you down like an animal.
You cannot play the game if you are dead.
It occurs to me that I can trick them, as she tricks them, to get what I want. I can pretend to be tamed. I can pretend that they have cowed me and defanged me. And when I am free, I can find new arenas, new competitors. Instead of the baked treats the female makes, I will give them my grudging obedience.
And they will lap it up like grateful dogs, never imagining that I have a plan in mind.
The female returns in the morning. I smell her—and her baked treats—before she appears. Her scent is clean and fresh, with a light, musky scent to it that must be her natural human smell. It is a good one. I only know of humans as prizes offered in the ring, but I do not have a memory of ever being offered one myself. Surely a champion deserves the best prize?
I decide she will be my prize. When I get out of here, I will snatch this good-smelling female and claim her as my prize for putting up with these fools. I smile to myself at the thought. Her male's scent is on her skin, as if he has touched her, yet again, there is no arousal perfume, no sweetness of her cunt hanging on the air. He touches her and she feels nothing.
This makes me grin.
When I am done with her, I will make her cunt drip with honey. She is a challenge, and it is in my nature to rise to any and all challenges. It is who I am. I am a champion, and so I must win this, too.
I will win it and rub the scent of her juicy cunt in her lover's face.
I like this thought very, very much.
"You're in a good mood," the female calls cheerily through the windows of my cell. "Don't think I didn't see that smile. Do you want your cookies today? I made them with the Risda nuts you guys have here, but if there's a taste you prefer, I'm happy to oblige. Just tell me what you like."
She practically shouts this at the window, as if I am somehow hard of hearing. I can hear every word she says from three hallways away. I heard her male tell her that he wanted kisses, and I heard her turn him down. I heard them argue about it, and I heard the male whine like a petulant child.
I cannot wait to bring it up again, but I will need to be sly. I do not need the female to shut down. I need her to play these games with me.
So I tap the floor, indicating I am ready for my bowl, and say, "I like the ones with the round nuts."
She gasps, and the guards at her side panic, as if I have suddenly pulled out a knife. "He's talking," one cries. "Get Lord va'Rin!"
"Lord va'Rin is busy, fool. Get First Rank Novis!"
The guards race around like idiots. The female sits on her little stool and beams at me from the other side of the window, as if we are sharing a secret. I want to smile back, but I know my jagged teeth and enormous tusks will not inspire confidence. So I tap the floor again, waiting for the food (which is, admittedly, much better than the food the guards give me).
Her mouth forms a little circle and then she taps on the guard nearest to her. "Can't someone give him his food?"
They ignore her, talking amongst themselves and preparing their weapons, and a flash of annoyance crosses her face, quickly gone as she resumes her happy smile. The smile grows broader when the commander—First Rank Novis, as they call him—enters the hall and listens to the babbled reports of his men. She sits on her stool and preens as if she has just won a race. I want to laugh at the foolishness of it all.
