Colt and Penelope joined us before I addressed our guests and participants.
“Last month, we welcomed you all to The Games, a year-long competition where we’ll host a new event each month.” It sucked that we hadn’t made Shay ours sooner; he would’ve been perfect to chase down in the woods. Luckily, there would be more chances. “Some of you attended our first Game,” I went on. “Our Predators got to hunt down their prey in the woods behind us. Those of us who were stuck up here heard their screams.” The Sadists in the crowd grinned fondly. “We didn’t have the privilege of seeing the prey go down, however. So this month, we welcome you to The Cages and bring the fight to us, right here, where everyone can watch.”
A low murmur of excitement and anticipation traveled through the crowd, and I gestured for Colt to run his safety speech.
He took a step forward. “As y’all read in the event’s TOU online, each couple will have five-minute rounds in the cages, and you’ll adapt the fightin’ to fit your dynamic. Reese and his boy will compete first and demonstrate what it can look like when you come from a background of martial arts and physical combat.” He paused. “That’s not them settin’ the bar in any way. It’s them fightin’ on their own level. As participants, you will compete against your partner, no one else. Our four judges—Greer, Penelope, Macklin, and myself—will compile your score based on three things: the time it takes for someone to win, creativity and kinks applied to your fightin’ style, and overall authenticity and credibility of the fight.”
“For instance,” Penelope chimed in, “I know a few of you are trying this out for fun, without caring for the actual fighting, and have mentioned taking on a more choreographed approach. You might score higher on creativity and kinks, but lower for authenticity. In short, the three components we’ll judge were chosen so that fighters of all backgrounds can score high and low depending on the discipline.” She gestured toward me. “I have a feeling we can count on a lot of authenticity from Reese and Shay, while they won’t bother demonstrating that many kinks.”
She wasn’t wrong.
Colt took over again. “The reason we’ve chosen five-minute fights is partly for safety. It’ll give the Top a chance to check in with their partner in between fights. So if both parties are still standin’ when your five minutes are up, you have another couple minutes to vacate the cage. That’s why we have two cages. When a fight ends in one, another begins in the second. It’ll also give our two Little helpers time to make sure the cage is ready for the next fight.”
I glanced over at Kit and Ella, who were standing to the side with Luke, both Littles armed with disinfectant spray and wipes. Ella had war paint on her cheeks, and Kit had a utility belt packed with lollipops, candy bars, and juice boxes. They were fucking adorable.
“If one fight ends without a winner, that couple moves to the end of the line to wait for their turn to try again,” Colt finished.
As Greer joined us to give a reminder about our medical station, I bent down and instructed Shay to take River aside and tell him about the bet.
I’d had Shay to myself most of the afternoon and early evening, and I could sense that River needed something too.
Shay nodded in acknowledgment, then stood up and grabbed River’s hand and walked off with him. In the meantime, Greer stressed the importance of being careful in the cages if it started to rain. The entire state was in need of a heavy thunderstorm to clear the air, and of course, tonight was the night it was in the forecast. But so far, not a single drop of rain. We hoped to finish the fights and move the party indoors before the cages became too slippery.
Then it was my turn to speak again, and no matter how much we prepared beforehand, it seemed we always had to go through fourteen fucking lectures before we could have fun. It was the downside of running a community, because you could never be selfish and just worry about yourself.
“Some of you have already noticed the lube dispensers right outside the cages,” I said. “In short, how you fight is up to you and your partner—with a few exceptions. No closed fists near the face. Backhanding and slapping are okay, but no punching. Avoid your partner’s throat, which includes choking. Asphyxiation kinksters will have to save that for another time. Same applies to those into ball-busting and other types of genitalia torture. Leave the privates alone for this event.” I cleared my throat. “Other than that, you spend those five minutes fighting however you want, with whatever protective gear you want. And if you defeat your partner in two minutes and feel like a quick victory fuck, go nuts. There’s plenty of lube.”
“Unless you wanna go dry,” Colt interjected. “That can be mighty fun too.”
“No, it can’t,” we heard Kit mumble.
I grinned, and to his visible embarrassment, many cracked up.
* * *
When everyone had refilled their drinks, gone to the bathroom, and Shay had returned to me with a big smile on his face, Lucas stepped forward from the sidelines to declare this month’s event underway.
He gestured to Shay and me next and smiled. “Gentlemen, you may enter the cage.”
Finally.
I dipped down and kissed Shay’s nervous-tinted smirk, and I could admit I wasn’t wholly assertive myself. I had some lingering worry about his reaction in case he lost, although…on the other hand, we’d cross that bridge if we came to it. Secondly, we’d gotten off on the wrong foot with this whole fight. It’d started with me riling him up in order for him to take the bait, but when push came to shove, I
