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Chapter 18 by Kazza Kazza

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THE ARENA

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The Arena's elliptical floor is layered with fine sand mixed with crushed seashells. The Arena’s sand drinks deeply. It has absorbed centuries of sweat, cum, and surrendered wills. Tiered seating rises steeply on all sides, capable of holding up to five thousand spectators. The wealthiest of Maidenhead's citizens enjoy private silk shaded booths in which to enjoy the games.

Every scratch, every gasp, every **** orgasm and broken pant is amplified by the acoustics. The crowd does not merely watch, they feel the shift in power when an alpha claims a new beta, the collective shudder of five thousand throats as another will is ceded. In Maidenhead City, the Arena is not entertainment. It is commerce, law, and religion, all in one.

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