Public Thrashing in the Arena (1)
-Waaaaah! Waaaaaaaah!!
There were thousands upon thousands gathered—maybe even over ten thousand—in the massive arena. And nearly all of them were women, their eyes locked squarely on me. Even though there was plenty to distract them, my mere presence was enough to hold their rapt attention.
"It's a man! A guy's actually here!"
"I heard the rumors, but is it for real? They're really putting a man in the arena as a fighter?"
"Damn, check out that body. Ripped muscles everywhere!"
"Pfft, come on. Muscles grown by a man? Gotta be all show, no go."
"Whatever, he looks fucking hot~! Kyaa!"
...Hmm. The raw lust was pretty intense, but hey, popularity's popularity, right? Back in my old world, I'd never even locked eyes with a woman properly. Life really is unpredictable.
"Yeees~ As you can all see, today's match will be fought by none other than a man! This is unprecedented in our arena... no, it might be the first show like this on the entire continent!"
The announcer—a woman—shouted with fiery passion, igniting the crowd even further. Fists pumped high, their cheers bordered on frenzy, expectation tipping into outright madness.
"Cut the intro and get on with it!"
"You hyped this up so big—don't tell me it's gonna fizzle out boring!"
"Make it good, or we're out!"
"Strip! Come on, show us that chest since you're up there!"
...Just standing in the arena, and I was already drowning in curses and sexual harassment. I could almost understand how female idols felt on stage. The announcer let out a booming laugh and pressed on.
"Right you are! Keeping you waiting with chit-chat in front of such a tempting man would be a crime. So, to reward your cheers, let's jump straight to the main event!!"
-WAAAAAAAAAAH!!
The arena shuddered with the roar. At the center of it all, the announcer thrust her hand toward me and bellowed.
"First up, meet our challenger for this bout! Selected personally by the Lord herself—the arena's very first male gladiator! Honoring his courage and resolve, she bestowed upon him a special name: Adrian—meaning the brave man~!!"
"Puhaha! 'Brave' for a man? Doesn't fit at all!"
"Hell yeah it does—if he's standing in the arena, call him a real stud!"
"Adrian! Nah, shorten it to Aide!"
"Aide! Aide!!"
The crowd started chanting "Aide" in unison. Realizing it was for me, I felt a swell of pride. In a world where men played the bitch role, naming me something like "top dog" as Adrian? Fine by me. Couldn't use my old name anyway—better than nothing.
"Next, meet the rising star of our arena—the foe our Aide will face!"
The announcer swept her hand to the opposite side. Gates creaked open, revealing soldiers dragging chains. And leashed at the end... a petite girl?
"Kirruk, kyaaak!"
No, not some fragile girl. Green skin, pointed ears, drooling maw snarling like a beast. Too feral, too alien to be human.
"What the hell is that, a goblin?"
"They're pitting a man against a goblin?"
Goblin—the classic fantasy mob. Right?
"Krrruk, kyaaa!! Kyaaaaaaa!"
The goblin locked eyes on me, thrashing wildly against her chains like my presence had triggered something primal.
"As you see, Aide's opponent is a goblin."
"Goblins are pests that breed endlessly, plaguing the continent. Mostly females, driven mad by lust—they slaughter women and rape men in undefended villages without mercy!"
Holy shit. Kill the women, rape the men? Men here had to fear monsters too? And they wanted me to fight one?
"Now this goblin stands against Aide. If he loses, that frail, desirable body falls to her greedy claws—right here, in front of you all! You'll witness the man you all crave get milked dry!"
"Wait, so if Aide loses, the goblin fucks him?"
"Public man-rape in the arena?"
The crowd froze at the explanation. I was horrified too—but their follow-up crushed any sympathy.
"Holy shit, that's the best! Public humiliation for all to see!"
"Kyaa! The Lord knows what gets us off!"
"Go goblin! Smash him and pound away!!"
"If you're feeding him to the goblin, share with me toooo!!"
Treating public rape like entertainment. This world wasn't just medieval-tech; its values were straight out of the dark ages. And I'd been dumped here in a man's body.
"Introductions over—let the match begin! Can our Aide preserve his purity against this lust-crazed goblin?!"
No escaping now. Focus on winning, nothing else. Gripping my club tight, I steadied myself as the chains snapped free. The goblin snatched her wooden club and charged.
"Kyaaaa! Krraaaaa!!"
Fangs bared in a guttural screech, drool flying—her hunger aimed at me. The charge hit like a rabid dog off the leash, way more pressure than expected.
"Kyakyakya! Kyaaaaaaa!!"
...Damn, when it hit, I got chills. As she closed in, I ditched my swing and backpedaled hard.
Whoosh—her club whistled past. Enraged at the miss, she roared louder and lunged again.
"Aide's running!!"
Dodging kept the crowd erupting.
"Boo! We came for a fight, not fleeing!"
"Stand and fight!"
"Hahaha! Typical man! Stick to housework— what guts do they have for the arena?"
"Should've whored in a brothel, not this mess."
"You're getting fucked anyway—give up! Show us the pounding!"
"Nah, resistance makes the payoff hotter!!"
"Go goblin!!"
Jeers, mockery, cheers for the goblin. It hammered home men's status here—and lit a fire in my gut. I didn't choose this; they dragged me in. Telling me to bend over easy? Fuck that.
"Hoo, alright."
Running changes nothing. Scary as hell, no experience—but grit your teeth and commit.
"Kyaaaaaaa!!"
Club raised, goblin barreled in. I twisted aside, then smashed my club into the gap with full force.
Splat! Her head snapped sideways.
"Ke... hrrgh...!"
She tumbled, rolling five or six times before sprawling out. Way stronger than expected. Staring at my club in surprise, I noticed the arena fall silent.
The jeering crowd had shut up, unable to ignore what I'd done.
"Wh-what... just now."
"He sent the goblin flying? A man?"
No wonder they were stunned. Men here were weak, timid pushovers. But this was real, happening right in front of them.
"Eh, luck. Blind swing connected."
"Still, flying like that? Takes real power, luck or not."
"A man with goblin-slaying strength?"
"Those muscles real? Bigger than mine?"
The mood shifted as time passed. The goblin staggered up, closing in with wobbly steps.
"Krrrk, kyaaa!!"
Pissed? Obviously. But after one hit, her charge felt less scary—almost like I could tank another.
Splat.
She closed while I zoned, club slamming my body. I rocked but held firm—like a massage, not a hammer.
Splat!!
Tanking it, I countered—sending her crashing pitifully.
"Kkii... kiiieee...."
After repeats, fear etched her face. No more charges—just trembling in place.
"Kkiiiii!!!"
One step forward, and she clutched her head, smashing it into the dirt. Sensing her broken will, I scanned the crowd.
Dead silence. Even the announcer gaped, speechless.
What now? Goblin down, but no end call. Kill her?
"Uuu... auu...."
No, killing's too far. Strength doesn't mean murder. Taking a life directly? Hurdle too high. But rapey little shit pissed me off—can't just do nothing.
Throb.
...Damn, dick's acting up now. Hard for a beaten goblin? How starved is this body?
Can't just bust one here... wait. Public rape's fine? Why not flip it?
"Hey, goblin."
"Kki... kkii...?"
Victory's mine—roles reversed. Hoisting her head-up from the dirt, I declared boldly.
"From now on, your name's Onahole."
Squish!
My cock pierced straight through the onahole's body.