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brAX

Brax sighed heavily as he finished washing the gore from his latest kills off his body.

Goddess, please— I can’t go on like this! How many more fights do I have in me? How many more times can I summon the Ryther side of myself before it takes over completely and I lose myself entirely?

He had no answers for either question. Or rather, the answers were in the hands of his Master , Maximus —the male who owned his contract. He often had Brax fight two or three times a day. Even for one with a Kindred constitution—which was his other half—that kind of schedule was grueling.

He sighed again as he toweled himself off, rubbing at his thick black hair to dry it.

He supposed he ought to be grateful that he could take a shower anytime he wanted.

Most of the males fighting in the Blood Circuit didn’t have that luxury.

But then, not many of them had been fighting for years with no losses.

Brax had earned his little luxuries the hard way.

One luxury he didn’t have was privacy. The bars of his cage—which were electrified to make escape impossible—were wide enough that anyone could see in and watch him. Even when showering or using the fresher, he had to contend with eyes staring at him all the time.

Brax worked hard to ignore the gawkers—mostly rich patrons who came to look him over before placing a bet. He was considered a sure thing in most circles, but there were always some who had to see for themselves.

Wrapping the damp towel around his waist, he made his way from the shower to the sturdy, reinforced cot which served as his bed.

It was too short for him—his feet hung off the end—but it was almost impossible to find furniture to fit someone of his size.

Part of his Kindred heritage was Beast Kindred but part came from the “ Giant Kindred ”—so named because they often grew to be over nine feet or three meters tall.

Brax wasn’t quite as tall as that, but he was large enough to make finding a bed that fit him extremely difficult.

He sank down on the side of the cot with a weary sigh.

There were a few people watching as usual—most of them Yonnite Mistresses .

Yonnie Six was one of his least favorite stops on the Blood Circuit because it reminded him of his first owner—the one who had discarded him, even after he had risked his life to save her. She? —

A soft cheeping sound mercifully called his attention away from the bad memories.

Looking up, Brax saw it was the chirler he’d been trying to tame.

This stop on the Blood Circuit lasted three whole solar months and since the little chirler had showed up at the very start of their stay, he’d made good progress.

“Hey, little guy. Here , Cheeky ,” he called softly and reached into the bowl beside his bed for a few of the protein crunchies his owner gave him to snack on. They were fairly tasteless, but the little chirler didn’t seem to mind that.

Brax held out a hand filled with treats. His cage was a large one—it had to be to contain one of his measurements—so the gaps between the bars were just big enough for a creature of Cheeky’s size to get through without shocking himself.

Cheeky, who had grayish-blue fur with a black and white racing stripe from the tip of his little nose to the end of his bushy tail, scampered through the bars of the cage and came straight to him.

Brax grinned with delight when the little creature approached him.

“That’s right, little guy. Come on,” he coaxed gently. “ You know I won’t hurt you.”

Cheeky only hesitated a moment before scrambling nimbly up the bed and perching himself on Brax’s knee. There he sat, happily stuffing his cheek pouches with protein crunchies until his head was almost as big as his fluffy little body. It was a comical sight—one Brax never tired of.

“How does he know you won’t hurt him?”

The soft voice came from right in front of him.

Brax looked up and was startled to see a girl standing there on the other side of the bars.

She was dressed as a Yonnite Mistress , though her clothes were more conservative than most, he thought.

The bodice of her pale-yellow gown covered her breasts completely and the slit in the skirt was located on the side instead of the front.

Hmm —how could a bodyslave kiss her panties if he couldn’t get to them?

That was a Yonnite custom he would love to participate in.

Come to think of it, maybe she wasn’t a Mistress . She had no bodyslave with her that he could see. Also , she looked too young to be one of the exalted class who ruled the planet. Brax estimated that she was probably of age—but just barely.

He wondered if she was a special treat—one of the women Master Maximus sometimes sent to him when he’d won an especially lucrative fight.

If so, his Master had clearly outdone himself.

The little female was fucking gorgeous .

She had creamy, light brown skin and long black hair that hung in waves down her back.

Her large, dark eyes were beautiful and her features were delicate and pretty.

Best of all, she was an Elite —a woman the Goddess had blessed with extra full curves.

Exactly the kind of woman Brax most craved.

“Hello, little one,” he murmured, looking her up and down. “ What’s that you asked?”

“I said, how does he know you won’t hurt him?”

She nodded at Cheeky , who was still sitting on his knee. Now that he had stuffed his cheek pouches full, he had decided to eat one of the protein crunchies and he was nibbling industriously at the snack.

“Oh, I’ve been taming him for the past three solar months,” Brax told her.

He shrugged. “ I guess he knows I won’t hurt him because I never have.

I move slowly around him—or don’t move at all if he’s not expecting it.

I speak in a soft voice and never try to grab him.

And most importantly, I give him treats.

” He grinned and nodded down at his palm, still half-full of protein crunchies.

In fact, he treated the little chirler much like he treated the women his Master sometimes sent him.

They were often frightened in the beginning—especially if they’d seen him fight when he allowed his Ryther side to come out.

But after he spoke to them gently for a while and his scent went to work on them, most were willing enough to part their thighs and let him taste them.

Being half Kindred , the biological need to taste a woman never really left him. And his Ryther side made the need worse. Brax’s Master had learned early after he bought him that the huge half-breed would do much better in the ring if his carnal appetites were satisfied.

Brax never tried to breed the girls that were sent to him.

His equipment was extremely large and though his body produced enzymes that would help a female to open for him, he didn’t want to risk Bonding any of them to him.

That was because he knew he couldn’t keep them—they were slaves like him and once he slaked his lust with them, they would be taken back to their owners and he would never see them again.

Such parting would be agony if he had formed a Soul - Bond with any of the women sent to him. So it was better just to take himself in hand and jerk off while he tasted them to ease the fire inside him.

Looking at the sweet face staring at him through the bars of his cage, he promised himself he would be extra gentle with this little female.

She had an air of innocence about her that made him think she was probably inexperienced.

Maybe even a virgin. Gods , he would love to be the first to part her sweet pussy with his tongue and taste her juices!

“He certainly seems to trust you,” she said, nodding at Cheeky . “ You’re so much bigger than him but he came right up to sit on your lap.”

“It’s wrong to hurt an innocent creature that’s only looking for comfort,” Brax said honestly. “ I think he can tell I’m a peaceful male.”

“You didn’t seem very peaceful a little while ago. I saw what you did to those men in the ring.” Her dark eyes were wide with uncertainty.

Inwardly, Brax cursed his Master . He had asked him many times not to allow the slave girls he brought for Brax to taste to watch him fight ahead of time.

It made it so much harder to get them to trust him when they’d seen the Ryther half of him on display!

The berserker rage he was capable of when fighting and the terrible things he did to his opponents would frighten anyone—let alone a shy, innocent female who had probably never even been tasted before.

Well, there was nothing to do but try to convince her of his trustworthiness.

Of course, she might not be convincible after seeing him fight.

In which case, he would let her go. Brax never forced himself on a female—the Kindred half of him abhorred the very thought.

If a woman wasn’t willing to be tasted, he simply sent her back to her master or mistress with no complaints.

“Ah, so you saw my last fight,” he said neutrally, offering Cheeky another protein nugget.

“I did.” She shivered. “ You ripped those males apart with your bare hands! They were armed but none of them even touched you.”

“Ah, well—that was just my Ryther side coming out,” Brax said as lightly as he could.

“ I’m half Ryther , half Kindred , you see.

The Rythers are a barbarian race from Praxis Six .

They go into a berserker rage when they or the ones they love are threatened.

It makes them formidable fighters, as you could probably see in the ring. ”

“Does that side of you come out all the time? Or is it only when you’re fighting in the Blood Circuit ?” she asked.

“Only in the ring,” Brax assured her. “ And it doesn’t just ‘come out.’ I let it out. If I didn’t, I’d be dead many times over,” he added. “ I’ve been fighting on the Blood Circuit for almost ten years now.”