It was a familiar chant. Empress Kayla glanced mercilessly at the scene below where one man stood above the other, his foot pressed against the fallen one's breastplate. I met her gaze, my blade’s tip hovering inches away from my opponent’s jugular. My Majesty’s gray eyes flitted from side to side, eyeing the rambunctious crowd clamoring for the fight’s conclusion. A man in white and black stripes shook his head disappointingly, sounding three sharp yelps with the silver whistle hanging off his neck. Thumbs down meant execute. Thumbs up meant spare, but punish accordingly.

She made her judgement, and I frowned disappointedly. Ultimately, it made sense, Perseus had put up a good fight and preserving his life for next year was logical, but bloodlust cared not for reason. Only pain. Regardless it was go time.

The laser induced plasma rapier was tossed aside, clattering with an ominous tone against the arena floor. Kneeling besides my opponent, one padded knee against the pavement, the other pinning down his heaving pectoral muscles, I leaned in and hissed into his ear. "We've got the greatest technology mankind has ever witnessed. Laser weaponry, high energy explosives, augmented superhuman strength yet we still always wind up settling things with our fists... do you know why?" I didn't wait for a response, slamming the knuckles on my right hand across his left cheekbone, snapping his head across with a velocity that threatened to break his neck, not that I cared. "Because it feels good."

He gargled something, ejecting a molar from his mouth. The bloodied tooth bounced across the arena floor, as crimson liquid sprayed across my face to accompany his tirade of insults. "Fuck you, I’ll fucking snap your neck next year you hear me? Rape your wife, beat you senseless, break your limbs, bash in your balls with a hammer you sick fuck-”

Idly, I removed both gauntlets from my hands and wiped the blood from my face. The same cursing, the same vows of revenge, all for naught. “Undoubtedly. But to quote an old phrase, beggars can’t be choosers.” I sneered, before fist after fist collided against the sides of his head, throwing it side to side as the crowd screamed quotes that boiled the raging blood in my veins. “Finish him!” “Break his bones!” “Bruise his skin!” “Crush his honor!” “JAXIMUS! JAXIMUS! JAXIMUS!” They roared my name with each successive blow and I complied with all their requests, but there was one person on the sidelines whose voice and actions effortlessly overwhelmed the spectators and my attention was solely on her.

My wife, my soulmate, my life-partner watched satisfactorily from the sidelines. Men drooled over her glorious body, clad so scantily in silk robes and lace, though she was quite the sight in carbon fiber armor with a semi-automatic plasma rifle in hand as well. Toned, slender, luscious 36c perky breasts, sparkling emerald eyes, the face of a supermodel framed by fiery hair exuding a hue that could've been plucked from a phoenix's tail feathers. She smirked, knowing we were moments from conquering another couple's will. She nodded, clearly enjoying our dominant position and with that, I rose to my feet and stomped on my opponent's wrist and he screamed, a bloodcurdling, agonized yell as the bone underneath fractured.

As anticipated, a single, familiar phrase cut over the jeers and taunts. "Stop! Stop. Leave him alone, I'll swap in." A petite brunette, lithe and flexible clearly as she breached the arena’s perimeter and stepped forward. Outfitted in a white silk gown, its hem tainted with dirt and dust she finally approached us and knelt besides her husband. Wordlessly, she motioned for two doctors on the sidelines to hurry over as she cradled her husband’s broken body in her arms.

"Marianne! Baby no! No please, don't do this. I don't want him touching you I-" The husband pleaded, tears streaming down his eyes, unable to even lift his right arm to wipe his cheek. She silenced him with a tender kiss as I watched impassively, bored with the interaction already and eager to continue with the next. I removed both gauntlets, tossing them aside.

"I have to. He'll cripple you for good, put you in the hospital for a half year, maybe more, perhaps even for life if I don't do this. I'm doing this for us, not for you, for my own peace of mind." She leaned forward, kissing him on the cheek before the medics lifted his aching, broken, protesting body onto a stretcher and transported him out of the arena. I considered forcing him to stay, ensuring that he would witness the violation I would force his partner to endure.

She watched him disappear into crowd before facing me. “Well then? Get on with it.” She snapped in a feisty, injured tone, arms folded across her chest, her expression that of utmost loathing and disgust. I reached forward, resting my hand on shoulder, savoring the feel of the smooth, milky white, tender skin barely shielded by the white silk dress. I lifted the strap, letting it fall aside exposing the top of her beautiful left breast. She shuddered, an action my partner noticed as she sipped a glass of red wine amusedly. I glanced back at her: she cocked her head to the side, biting her bottom lip, a sultriness spreading across her face and I thought,

I have earned my reward.

[Kinks and DPP Profile]( https://www.reddit.com/r/DPPprofiles/comments/3uj1vc/22m_cleaning_up_before_i_dirty_it_up_again/