Master

by Catherine Taylor

  The memory sparked him to look out to the crowd to see what women were present. Some of the men had foolishly brought girls with them, knowing the rules of the fight. Any female stupid enough to attend was eligible to be a champion’s trophy. Of course, many of them were the whores that looked for this type of action.

  It was when Radek had claimed one of the miners’ daughters that all hell had broken loose. The reluctant girl was defended promptly by her father and brother, but their protests held no weight. Rules were rules. Her brother and another miner came to the rescue by challenging the champion, only to both die at his hand.

  The miner was left to go home, and tell his wife that their son was dead and their sixteen year old daughter was being raped. They got her back after a week, only to lose her to suicide.

  The whole incident had caused a lot of dissent among the miners. No one dared to challenge Dmitri Petrenko, but many wanted justice. They had pooled together to bring in good fighters, but one by one they had been defeated. The Russian had been their latest hope.

  Andrei knew that Radek was more than capable of taking on several fights, and still able to win, but his own expert assessment of good fighters was gnawing at him. There was at least fifty pounds between them in Radek’s favour, but Jahn’s lean body was bristling with strength. There were also faded scars on his back that told a story. This was a man who had known brutality.

  There was also no sign of alcohol abuse which was most unusual. Jahn’s strange eyes were clear and his complexion was healthy. His calm demeanour suggested a confidence that was much more unsettling than the usual bravado of young men.

  Hearing his name shouted, Andrei looked up to see Dmitri agitated to know what was going on. He nodded and looked back to Jahn.

  “Radek you say?”

  His voice was loud enough for the nearest miners to hear, and the news could be seen spreading through the crowd as faces turned in their direction. He could only hope that the boss was compliant, otherwise there would be trouble.

  “I’ll run it by Dmitri.”

  As he made his way to the stairs he could already see the miners confirming the news with Jahn, and the excitement it was generating.

  Dmitri was still leaning against the balcony, watching the crowd below. He frowned as Andrei reached the top, puffing from the steep climb. Taking a deep breath, Andrei smiled at Lena who returned his smile shyly.

  “Who is he?” Dmitri demanded.

  “A lone wolf, it would seem,” Andrei replied. “You saw the tattoo?”

  Dmitri nodded. “A well-travelled wolf that slinks among some powerful circles. He doesn’t look old enough to be marked as he is.”

  “There are other marks, and this is no unseasoned boy, and there is nothing boastful about his challenge. I find it hard to believe that he would come up against Radek, unless he had some certainty of the outcome.”

  “Are you suggesting that I wager against my own man?”

  Andrei grinned and shrugged. “You did not become a rich man by sentiment, and this one… I don’t know. There is something about him… but what do I know?”

  Dmitri smirked without humour. “You seem to know everything, my friend. Do not think your ambitions go unnoticed. You would gladly take my place given half the chance.”

  Andrei looked wounded. “Dmitri, I have been by your side for fifteen years and no one has achieved the power you have in Donetsk.”

  “And you’ve played your part in that.”

  “And now I am old and worn out. I’m a front man, not a leader.”

  “You are barely fifty, and your mind is still sharp as a razor.” Dmitri looked down at Jahn. “Loosen the odds on Radek. I want a lot of money moving on this, and pray that you know men as well as you think you do.”

  Andrei glanced at Lena who was trembling. “Are you alright, Lena?”

  She nodded silently.

  “She looks ill,” he remarked to Dmitri.

  “My daughter is not your fucking concern. Concentrate on your job and make me some money.”

  “Of course, Dmitri.”

  Taking another glance at Lena, Andrei made his way back to the gambling area. He saw the first sign of trouble in the shape of a woman that was nearest to Jahn, and examining him closely. The lust in her eyes was evident.

  Andrei wasn’t surprised that Oleysa would take an interest in this one. Her appetite for strong men, hard cocks and a decent living had seen her attending the fights for the last few years. She had been reluctant to become Radek’s trophy, knowing of his cruelty toward women. When his victory was assured, she had always left well before she could be claimed. When it had become obvious that he was champion for the long haul, she had finally allowed him possession. A few beatings were preferable to starvation, but no one had the desire to see him defeated more than Oleysa.

  “Back off, Oleysa,” Andrei grinned. “I’d like to keep the fighting in the cage.”

  She smiled at Andrei. “This man wants to fight my meal ticket. I think I have the right to know more about him. Who is his sponsor?”

  “He doesn’t have one. Jahn paid his own entrance. You’ll have to ask him.”

  Oleysa looked up at Jahn. He was a head taller than her, and as his eyes turned to her, she felt a momentary shiver. His cold gaze showed no expression, which was something new to her.

  Even if her body was hidden under a coat, her beauty never failed to turn men’s heads. Tonight she wore only a low cut dress and the swell of large firm breasts was evident above the neckline, her nipples prominent against the tight fabric. She pushed her long, dark hair back over her shoulders to make sure he hadn’t missed them.

  Glancing at his shorts, she frowned to see the absence of the usual bulge she inspired in men, and instead, found herself subjected to his own perusal. It was exciting to feel intimidated by a man, and even more to feel so attracted to him. It took her back ten years to her teens, when men were still intriguing.

  She dared to meet his stare. “Why would you want to fight Radek? He will kill you and trample in your blood.”

  “And if he doesn’t,” Jahn replied coolly, “I will be a lot richer.”

  She trembled slightly as the deep masculine voice reached her ears. “How many times have you fought men like him?”

  “It’s usually men, but I’ve taken on women as well.”

  Oleysa grinned. “So you have a sense of humour. Good, you’ll need it.”

  She watched as his gaze wandered over her head. Turning, she groaned quietly as she watched Radek approach. His bare chest was splattered with blood and his anger was obvious in finding her with a half-naked man.

  Radek snarled and glared at her before turning his bald head to Andrei. “What’s this?”

  “This is Jahn,” Andrei replied. “He wants to fight you. Are you up for another?”

  The Slav laughed and spat on the ground at Jahn’s feet. “Why would I want to waste my energy on this piece of shit?”

  “Maybe because I’m offering four to one on him.” Andrei grinned.

  The announcement stirred the crowd’s excitement. Miners began sifting through pockets to find anything left from their meagre wages, that hadn’t already been gambled. Winnings were always collected at the end of the night.

  Radek seemed annoyed. He fronted up to Jahn, his back arched, puffing out his barrel chest and flexing his muscles. The thick Neanderthal brow narrowed as he glared closely into the face before him.

  “You think you’re man enough to fight me?”

  Jahn’s reply came with a casual nod. “Yeah, I do.”

  The lack of intimidation brought some laughter from the crowd, who were edging closer to see the comparison of bodies. Some shook their heads dejectedly. Radek was taller and bigger by far, though he fell far short in aesthetic appeal. Even with a hard face, Jahn was much better looking, and already drawing many of the women to come forward for a closer look.

  The interest was not lost on Radek, and his anger grew. “Well let’
s see what type of man you are.”

  With one swift movement, he ripped the shorts from Jahn’s body. A hush fell over the crowd as they saw no reaction from Jahn. He continued to stare at Radek, unbothered by his nakedness. Any hope Radek had held to humiliate his opponent came to an abrupt end.

  “He’s hung like a fucking horse,” one miner remarked.

  Even Andrei’s eyes widened, but he laughed softly to see the look of horror on Radek’s face.

  “Enough,” he yelled. “Someone get him some shorts, and Radek, are you going to fight him or fuck him?”

  Radek looked at the crowd with contempt and spat again onto the concrete. His mouth opened in a snarling grin, showing his tobacco stained teeth. “I’ll fight him, and when I kill him, I’m going to rip off that cock and shove it in his mouth.”

  His threats received none of the desired reaction. Jahn remained silent, his eyebrows arching slightly in amusement.

  The crowd could already smell the blood, and there was a surge toward the gambling area, with the pittance of their money. Radek seized Oleysa’s arm and drew her away. Handing Jahn a pair of shorts, Andrei chuckled softly.

  “They like you, and they will love you if you win. A lot of the betting should go your way, but most will put their money on Radek. Are you aware of the spoils of Dmitri’s fights, should you beat the current champion?”

  Jahn nodded. “A lot of money, and a woman of my choosing.”

  “That is correct,” Andrei nodded. “Any woman who is here tonight, married, single... they all know that by being here, they risk being made a champion’s whore. So do their husbands. I think some of them bring them in hopes they might rid themselves of their ugly bitches. Is there anyone in particular you have eyes for?”

  “Yes.”

  Andrei smiled, and gazed over to where Radek was manhandling Oleysa into a forced kiss. “Just remember, there isn’t a cunt worth dying for. Get dressed, my friend, and let us see what trouble you can cause.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Sitting on the chair was becoming extremely uncomfortable, but Lena wanted to do nothing that would attract her father’s attention. Greta had suffered enough under his temper, but she was still a body to cuddle, even if her head had to reside in a coat pocket.

  Under the heavy wool fabric she could feel the dampness of her clothes, and could smell the odour emanating from her sweaty body. Spring had begun, and the nights were growing warmer, but she was too conscious of the shape of her body, and the poor quality of her cotton dress. Her one request for a new one had only incited more insults.

  “Lose weight, you fat bitch,” Dmitri had told her. “I do not supply clothes for pigs.”

  Lena knew she had gained weight in the last year, but like everything else in her life, she hardly cared. Only now, with sweat pooling under her breasts and bringing itch and irritation, did she realise that she should probably do something about it.

  It didn’t help that she was reluctant to leave her room. It was her haven where she could pretend that the world wasn’t cruel, that lives had happy endings. The Russian fairy-tales, that her grandfather had given her as a child, weren’t always pleasant, but lately foreign entertainment was easy to acquire, especially when her father had a stack of video cassette players and movies.

  The ones with naked women on the front cover were avoided, but there were others. Animated movies from the West had many young, pretty girls starting out with a miserable life, but ending with a handsome prince and the hope of a wonderful future. Surely those stories had some truth that she could cling to.

  Her prince would be handsome too, but maybe a little more masculine, with a sterner nature. He would be her lover and teacher, taking charge of her life, making all the wrongs, right. She would be obedient to him, and if she wasn’t…

  It was always at this point that Lena shook herself from her fantasies. It was shameful to think this way, especially with her history. She had to learn from the lessons of the past. Her grief was too raw for any liaisons with men, and her body too ravaged from overeating, and a lack of hygiene.

  Food and movies were good distractions that enabled some degree of sanity. With a supply of leftover desserts, Lena watched movies well into the night, reluctant to return to the silence where her thoughts became dark and overwhelming. When it got too bad, it was as if the darkness had swallowed her up and there was no escape. Reality was screaming at her to acknowledge it, until her own voice was joining in.

  At one time, her father had sent her to hospital, but the treatment had been brutal and painful. They had forced drugs upon her that made her confused and tired. She soon learnt to discard them secretly, and learned how to behave to secure her release. Now she just kept out of everyone’s way.

  Yawning, she reached into her pocket to caress the broken head of her doll. Another hour and she would be able to return to her bed and cuddle up to Greta. With a nauseated stomach and an uncomfortably full bladder, it would be a long hour.

  The thunderous roar below drew her back to her reality. She leaned forward to see that the fighters had entered the cage. She was annoyed that this was an unscheduled fight, but hopefully it would be over quickly. Radek would have another corpse, her father would be collecting another pile of money, and then they would be going home.

  She looked at the new challenger and shivered. When Radek had ripped his shorts off, her father had made lewd remarks about his cock. It sickened her. What interest did she have in such a thing? Men were too preoccupied by their parts and any attention they paid to hers, was for their own benefit.

  Sometimes in her fantasies, her handsome prince would do things that made her tummy tighten and spark the strange pulsing between her legs. She liked that feeling and sometimes she let her hand wander between her legs, only to snatch it back from the intensity of the sensation.

  From her bedroom window above the restaurant, she had heard comments from the whores that hung around below, hoping to solicit a wealthy foreigner. It seemed there was much more to sex than the unpleasant experiences she had known, but it didn’t matter. It had been a long time since any man had looked at her with desire. The prettiness she had once possessed was now buried under extra weight, and a miserable exterior.

  There was nothing pretty about the scene below. Through the haze of smoke above the crowd, she could see the dark stain on the cage floor where the Russian had fallen. Two half naked, tattooed men were about to try to kill one another.

  Lena sat back and tried to get comfortable, but her body was heating and sending more perspiration to torment her rashes. The sting under her belly was worse, and she clenched tightly in fear of wetting herself. Her misery was draining her. Wasn’t life ugly enough without enduring illness as well?

  * * * *

  Radek could usually sense their trepidation once they were alone with him and surrounded by steel mesh, but he saw no intimidation in Jahn. Those weird eyes were staring at him boldly.

  It was tempting to play with this one, but Oleysa’s perfume was still lingering in his nostrils. His balls tightened just thinking about her under him, running his calloused hands over the softness of her skin. Nothing whetted his lust more than a bloody victory, and he planned to fuck her senseless after this one.

  A bell was rung and they came together, springing lightly upon bare feet. Radek held back, waiting for Jahn to throw a few punches, that he might gauge his skill. After a minute they were still circling one another and the crowd was screaming.

  Fuck it, Radek thought, and suddenly sent his fist towards his face, only to miss as Jahn dodged away. The speed at which he moved was surprising, but Radek grinned. There would be no escape once he was closer. Turning, he charged, drawing back his fist only to punch at the air again, where Jahn’s head should have been. The side-step and duck was lightning fast.

  During the second of his confusion, Radek felt knuckles sinking deeply into his stomach, sucking the air from his lungs. Instinct had him retreating quickly to recover his
breath, but he was puzzled by the intensity of pain in his gut.

  He was aware that the crowd had gone quiet and he straightened up, ignoring the agony and laughing derisively as he glared at his opponent. It was slightly unnerving the way his opponent’s face showed no expression.

  The crowd became louder as Radek sauntered closer to Jahn. This time there would be no mistakes. He was now aware of this man’s phenomenal speed; he would have to bluff and attack fast and hard. There could be no more playing around.

  Feinting a left punch, his right hand rocketed forward to smash into the anticipated position of Jahn’s head, but again his fist found nothing. Instead a searing pain shot through his shins and his feet were pulled from the floor, his body flying up to come crashing down to the concrete.

  Trying to ignore the agony, Radek was quickly to his feet, panicking to get his eyes focussed and back upon the target. Jahn had moved away, but was still watching with an impassive expression. Shaking his head to clear it, Radek glared at him, and was given a grin.

  Radek was astounded to see the smug face. It was one he had often worn himself, the grin of one who is toying with their opponent and finding decadent pleasure in their torment. Anger coursed through him, and his desire to rip Jahn apart became ravenous. This one he would hurt badly, maybe pushing an eyeball out, or crushing his balls before he killed him. The crowd would hear his screams before they saw his blood.

  Flexing his shoulders, he slowly approached. Jahn didn’t move until he was barely two feet away. Radek frowned as he watched Jahn turn his back to him and walk away. It was almost an insult until he suddenly changed direction. Radek was sure he had seen all styles of fighting, but nothing had prepared him for this new attack. Jahn came running, leaping up to an incredible height, his leg stretched out before him.

  Too late, Radek moved aside, but the solid heel still sunk into his neck, cutting off his air instantly. He gasped, trying to suck in precious oxygen, but only blood seeped down his throat. An agonizing pressure was building in his face, making his eyes bulge. Clawing at his crushed windpipe, he watched in terror as Jahn circled again, the leering grin more like a savage snarl. As his vision darkened, he didn’t get to see the fist coming towards his face.