Fate/Sex Fight: Chapter 4 - Archer vs Rider

Well, I'm glad to hear you are ready for more, because more you shall receive!

"Hello, Ladies and Gentle-Meown!" The excitable feline voice called out again, seemingly back to her usual self after her leave of absence, "And as the song says, the cat came back, and you KNOW I just can't stay away from the exciting battles of Fu-Mew-Ki's Holy Grail Tournament. And while my regular co-host may be down in the ring tonight, I'm not going to be wanting for expert commentary - though perhaps for someone with practical sexual experience - as I'm joined tonight by a name that's cropped up more than a few times in this tournament. Straight from the office of the Vigilum Magiae, the one, and only Kirei Kotomine. And would you care to explain why you're taking such a purr-sonal interest in these proceedings? I don't think it's normal for the church to send out masters."

"It isn't," Kirei answered, "But nor is it normal for commentators to pick fights with the competitors. This has been a most unusual grail tournament all around."

"...It's also not normal to have competi-purrs who need to have fights picked so much, Father Kotomine, so how about I just say three 'Hail Kuku's and call you in the morning, hmm?" She asked insistently.

"Of course," The Catholic priest gave a confident smile, "But before we begin, I almost forgot to ask. How was your hunting trip?"

"IT WAS IRRELEVANT TO THE MATCH!" She burst out, and then stopped, "Ah, I mean, it was purr-relevant to the match. Why don't we focus on the task at paw?"

The priest chuckled, "I was hoping you'd say that. We're heading into the second round after this, and the winner of this will go on into the second bracket to... Well, let's be honest here, to decide which one of them will be humiliated in the finals by my archer."

"You sound pretty sure he'll be the one in the finals there, Father, what makes you so sure?"

"The quality of his opponent," he answered simply, "and besides, he's been regaling me with tales of what he'll do to her since the last grail tournament we were in. When you have a full decade of preparation versus spending the intervening time lounging around on the throne of heroes, she'll be praying for the treatment he gave Medea."

"And here I thought a priest would expect prayers to come true."

"Not hers," The priest answered, as they looked down at the ring, "As for tonight's competitors, well... It's hard for me to have a particularly great amount of faith in either of them. On the one hand, we have an archer who's been spending his time talking instead of practicing, and on the other, a Rider managed by the Matou clan, and I admit I can't see any member of that family making an effective Master."

"Oh, Kirei, I thought you were all about faith. You are a purr-riest after all. But let's look over the competitors!"

In the ring, the archer who had been in the announce booth up until now was stretching, and getting ready for the match. He looked confident, and it was not hard to see why. He was an incredibly handsome young man, and the sweat already beading on his body from the arena's lighting glistened, making him look like a vision of pure power conjured from the deepest depths of humanity's subconscious desire for a hero. That was not, in fact, that far from the truth. He had become, as he had once put it in his youth, a hero of justice, a job so unsatisfying he was now fighting to undo that decision.

Across the ring from him was the youngest of the Gorgon sisters, Medusa. She was leaning forward like a linebacker before a play, looking ready to leap out and take him to the ground. She didn't have her chains or her dress, but it didn't change a thing about her stance or attitude. She did have one nod to proper clothing, however, though it was one that made fighting her all the more difficult. Around her eyes, she wore her customary purple and black blindfold, sigils carved on it to prevent her paralysis abilities from taking effect in the ring. These battles were meant to be fair, and naturally, the Grail would not want something like that to happen. From the way she leaned forward, breasts hanging down, and tongue licking her lips like a hungry beast, it was pretty easy to guess that Medusa wouldn't want that to happen either.

"She looks like a cat staring at a fresh bowl of kibble, Kirei, I wouldn't want to be Archer right now. Or maybe I would, but not if I wanted to handle her in the ring!"

"I wouldn't want to be him, in the ring with her or not," Kirei answered, and the frustration on the part of Jag-Warrior was practically audible.

"I'm just looking forward to seeing him put the bone of his sword to good use~" The feline announcer purred, "Mew can say what you like, but he's been pre-purr-ing for this match for the whole tournament, and I don't envy Medusa's chances, wild woman or not."

In the ring, a woman with long, almost purple hair stood between the two competitors, wearing a striped bikini and lower wrap in place of the more traditional outfit.

"Well," Jag-Warrior announced, "It looks like St. Martha is ready for the fight to begin. Let's see how this one goes down~"

*DING DING DING!*

At the referee's signal, the two competitors stepped forward. Or at least, one of them did. Archer stepped towards the middle of the ring, looking confident, but his opponent took two steps before darting at him like an arrow from one of his bows. The slight smile on his face at her attack made it clear that he had been expecting this, and he stepped forward, shoulder lowered to try to counter the attack.

Maybe Kirei had been right about him being out of practice, and maybe he had just underestimated his opponent, but one way or another, it didn't work. His hands caught nothing but thin air, while Medusa slipped behind him, and reached down, grasping his thick, golden-brown cock in her hand and giving it a long, teasing squeeze. He shivered for just a second, and she gave another, harder pump. It was clear that, while she may have not exactly been in the habit of looking her lovers in the eye, she knew all she needed to know about a man's anatomy. Little flutters and twitches of her hand as she pumped it along her opponent's shaft betrayed a skill that seemed out of place for a woman who lived alone with her two sisters. Then again, it was hard to say for sure what she did with the men who were petrified trying to visit her. Perhaps she was used to milking an unusually literal version of rock-hard cocks.

"As I suspected, he's unprepared," Kirei commented coldly, arms folded across his chest.

"He certainly didn't get to her in time, but the match isn't over until we hear a bell or see a splash, and that tomcat hasn't even lost his first drops of milk!"

He hadn't, but, as Medusa's tongue dragged slowly up his neck, teasing spiral-esque designs like she was tracing invisible command seals, it was clear that it would not be too long before he did, at least if she kept this up. His cock was throbbing in her grip, the tip glistening, and while it was still far from orgasm, the fact that she had brought him this close this quickly was a clear sign of what was to cum if he couldn't escape.

Fortunately, even with his eyes screwed almost shut, a fighter is still a fighter, and he still had the instincts of a warrior. He reached back, catching his arm around the back of her neck, and then leaned and twisted forward, throwing his opponent down onto her back. Thrown down so quickly and so powerfully, Medusa didn't have a chance to hold onto his cock, and her long purple hair flowed behind her as she fell, before falling loosely over her face like an extra mask. A certain amount of desperation was clear in Archer's face, and it was clear he would need to try to keep her down. He raised his foot to deliver a stomp to her chest...

And once again, the famed gorgon struck like the serpents that would one day make up her hair. Before his foot touched her, she reached out with her arms, grasped his foot, kicked out one leg to knock the archer's other away, and held onto the ankle as the man fell helplessly to the mat. She quickly scissored her legs around his calf and pressed her chest to his ankle. He gasped as she locked him in, and she tensed her abs and began to sit up. The look of overwhelmed pleasure on his face when he had been subjected to her slithering handjob was turned to one of completely overwhelmed agony as the tournament's Rider sat up with his foot on her chest, pulled down on his calf with her lower leg, and worked to hyper-extend the knee. With his reinforcement magic not permitted until the round ended, he instantly submitted to avoid a snapped knee. The Ruler referee called for the bell, and within a minute, the round hand ended.

*DING DING DING!*

"And the winner of round one, via kneebar," Quetzalcoatl announced from her position at ringside, "Medusa!"

"Well, that was a quick round," Kirei's voice was as self-confident as his favored servant, barely even reacting to the sound of the bell as Archer limped to the corner. The feline play-by-play scrambled for an explanation at one of the competition's favorites tapping out so quickly in the first round.

"He sure did seem a bit out of sorts, there," she conceded, "I think he really wasn't ready for the speed of her attacks!"

"If he had been focusing on the match itself, perhaps he would have been."

Archer rubbed his knee, then nodded to the referee, acknowledging he was still good to fight. Blindfolded and in her corner, Medusa's expression was almost impossible to read, but there was a certain undeniable degree of self-satisfaction in how she stared down her opponent. The look on Archer's face was more one of confusion than anything else - Like he was well aware of what happened, but wasn't sure how.

*DING DING DING!

The bell rang to begin round two. Archer approached a little bit slower this time, watching his opponent through narrowed eyes. He must have reinforced his leg during the time between the rounds since he seemed to have no trouble walking on it, but he was still slow and wary, as Medusa swayed back and forth and approached him.

She didn't dart at him, this time, at least not at first. Instead, she seemed to stand tall, ready to accept his offer to lock up and grapple. As soon as he stepped in to grab her, though, she took a lightning step forward and closed her long, delicate fingers around his shaft once more. His face immediately contorted in pleasure, shaft swelling out and dripping with pre-orgasmic fluid as soon as she touched, and her tongue slipped in to slowly drag up and along his neck and chin.

"Oooh, looks like Archer may have put a paw out of place once again!" The play by play announcer exclaimed as the bronze-skinned man rolled his hips in the slowly sliding hands of his opponent, "Is he going to be able to get out?"

"If he wants to get out, he'll need to change his tact. He may prefer grappling in his matches, but if he can't at least work a little bit of sex in as well, this may be over in even less time than Gil's match was."

It was something of a grim prediction, but it was not hard to see it as a reasonable one as well. The archer's face was screwed up with pleasure, and it seemed obvious that if he stayed in that position for too much longer, the second round would be over as quickly as the first had.

It was Medusa, not Archer, who changed the position. While her right hand grasped and pumped along his dripping shaft, the left reached up to dig into his snow-white hair, and grasp tight. With another shifting, serpentine movement, she pulled down on his hair, and sent the Tohsaka family's servant twisting down to the ground, and landing heavily on his back.

The Archer moaned as she held him down, one hand on his head and the other on his cock. She hadn't needed her eyes to render him immobile and helpless, and long practiced strokes made his shaft glisten under the bright lights of the arena. His back arched up, and his breath caught, as the lanky woman controlled him, her mouth open and her saliva dripping off her tongue and into his mouth. His eyes rolled back, and he moaned out helplessly as she took him, hands clenched tight into fists as he fought to withstand the erotic attack.

"That's probably not the change of position Archer was hoping for, but she's really making him purr with that stroking!"

"Inferior Master or not," Kirei opined, "This isn't a place for someone who's repressed, and if there's one word I would use to describe Archer, it's repressed. He won't be able to contain himself if he lets her keep this up.

His hips were rolling, and cock dripping precum like a water tap left ever so slightly on. It looked almost inevitable that this second round would be over as quickly as the first had been if he couldn't find a way to handle the eroticism and fight her on those terms. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he stared up into the blank covering of the blindfold, his shaft seeming to swell and pulse along with his heartbeat. Sweat dripped down his brow, making it shine like polished bronze. It was clear he was struggling, and he was in desperate need of something, anything to change the tide.

He'd tried for pure grappling so far, and it had got him tapped out in round one and was getting his cock worked over in round two. He needed to change something up if he wanted to have any hope of escaping, and in desperation, he reached up, grabbed onto the back of Medusa's head, and pulled her down for an aggressive kiss, driving his tongue into her throat, and pumping his cock in her hand to try to get a psychological advantage.

There was a slight intake of breath, a gasp of shock, as he attacked Medusa with his mouth. It was clear she was unused to being aggressively kissed, and that would only make sense considering what could happen to a man who stared too long into her violet eyes.

"Wow, it looks like Archer's really gonna take it to her! Lapping at her tongue like a bowl of milk!" The excitable announcer yelled.

"Certainly," Kirei agreed, "But he's fighting out of his element. She'll take back control soon."

"I wouldn't be so sure, Catto-mine!"

But the priest was right. It took a few seconds of oral attack before Medusa started to shove back, pushing her tongue into the handsome man's mouth. Unfortunately for her, at the first hint of resistance, he went from holding her cheeks to pressing his palm on her forehead and shoved the beautiful woman away. It was only for a second, though, and this time it was him who struck like a viper, while she was still reeling on her knees from his resistance, slipped around behind her and pulled her to his chest in a crushing sleeper hold.

His biceps bulged as he squeezed her, crushing into her swanlike throat. His forearms pulled her head back until she was arched with her chin up like a sword swallower. He rose a little off the one knee he rested on, foot back, to try to get a better angle on her, and more effectively crush the air out of her throat.

"Would you look at that!" The feline announcer exclaimed, "He's finding a way to turn this back around into his type of fight! Medusa's clawing at his arms like a scratching post, but she has no ans-purr here!"

"No answer for now," countered Kirei, "That can change. She's a wily woman, and long arms and legs make her hard to control. The power of a reach advantage should not be underestimated."

Long arms were an advantage, but they were doing very little for Medusa at the moment. Her fingers were long and elegant too, but Archer's grip on her neck was pressed iron-tight. In less than a minute, her eyes were rolling, and her face had flushed a deeper purple than her hair. He twisted his hips and abs and wrenched her to the side, saliva flying from her lips as he did, and her hand flailing wildly in response to the rough jerking.

That turned out to be his undoing, at least as far as the sleeper hold was concerned. As her hand shifted backward, it fell across his stiff shaft. His aching cock twitched as she did, and the feel of his pre-slicked shaft reminded her of how she had taken control of the match in the first place. As he held her to the side after the wrench, almost on her hands and knees, she reached back and wrapped her hand around his glistening cock.

His back stiffened, and his face began to flush like she had grasped his throat instead of his shaft. A few more seconds of slick sliding on his cock and it wasn't entirely clear which of them was trapped in whose hold now.

"Me-WOW!" Jag-Warrior gasped, "Now that's what I call a counter! What a grip she's got!"

"It's what I call basic strategy," Kirei responded, "It hardly reflects well on Medusa to have taken so long to remember that 'Hand' is, in fact, one half of the word handjob."

On a technical level, "hand" was, in fact, more than half of the word "handjob". Which was fitting, because Archer was far more than halfway to orgasm as Medusa pumped her hand rapidly along his shaft. Her left arm went limp, her head rolled forward, but it was not from falling unconscious. Instead, all of her efforts had now gone into working over his shaft, she couldn't even allow the little bit of strength it would take to remain at a proud, straight-backed position, but as her saliva dripped to the ground, it was clear that she, like any fighter, was happy to lose dignity if it meant winning a match.

Archer, though, was on the brink of losing both, and he released her, letting her fall bodily to the ground, and retreating a few steps. It was clear why he had to, not only was his face flush, but his cock seemed to have turned to an almost purple shade from the way that she had gripped him. She clutched her throat, and he clutched his shaft. Both drooled thick, clear streams to the ground, though the streams came from different sorts of heads.

"It looks like both of our competi-purrs are needing a moment to recover, this might come down to which of them is ready to fight against first!"

"It might," Kirei acknowledged, "Or it might come down to which one is foolhardy enough to engage before they're ready. That puts him at a disadvantage. She may only need a minute to get her breath back, but he'd need a good hour to calm his cock."

Archer must have had similar thoughts to Kirei. If he let too much time pass, Medusa could return to full strength before his cock had gotten anything close to resembling calm. If he was going to be in trouble anyway, he might as well make sure she never got a chance to get her footing back. He rushed at his competitor as she kneeled on the ground, one hand supporting herself, the other clutching her throat.

As he got close, though, she whipped around like a flash, to a full kneeling position, and let his momentum drive his twitching cock right down her throat.

"Me-wow, now that's a maneuver!" Called out Jag-Warrior, "She may not have her breath back, but ya don't need to breathe to do this move right. It's actually probably better if you don't!"

It was true, and while Medusa's lack of breath might have made it a somewhat questionable decision to deep-throat under most circumstances, since she would have to pull off so soon, this was an exceptional one, and the look on Archer's face made it clear that he was in a position where the amount of time necessary for a blowjob to become overwhelming could be measured in seconds rather than minutes. Medusa, for her part, was hardly trying to pull away from the blowjob. She was, if anything, leaning into her lack of breath to force more pleasure onto her opponent. She gagged, saliva spluttered from her lips and rolled down her chin, and his thighs and pulled up balls. With her face buried up to his balls, she didn't need to last long, and that gagging and bouncing on her throat had to be playing havoc with the Archer's stamina.

The blowjob lasted only three seconds, but by the time he pulled out, he looked to be on the edge of orgasm once more. He took two steps back, to get space between him and the cock-hungry gorgon, then dashed forward and drove his knee into her chin.

CRACK!

With her weakness and lack of breath from earlier, she had been falling forward. That combined with the force of his knee to her chin sent her rocketing flat to her back, and him stumbling forward, clutching onto his cock to try to control the leaking pre-cum and crush it back down into his balls. She had destroyed him in the first round, and even now, lying nearly unconscious on her back, she was still an errant draft or bit of breeze away from taking him down in the second.

"Well, he managed to land on his feet after that exchange, but can he capitalize?!" Yelled the feline announcer, "Remember, he can't win by pinfall, and as long as she's even slightly responding, this catfight keeps going!"

St. Martha kneeled beside the stunned medusa, but she must have been able to see through the blindfold and recognize a bit of life in Medusa's eyes, since, despite the gorgon's limp body, she simply nodded the match on, letting the battle keep going.

Archer seemed to have got just enough of a breath to be willing to continue, or perhaps he just didn't want to risk Medusa recovering a second time. Thick viscous ropes of liquid rolled down her cheek, but the referee had ruled it only pre and saliva, and he was still in the match. He pounced at her, or at least that was the most charitable word for it, it looked like he was simply throwing his body almost at random in her direction.

If that was the case, though, he had good aim. He landed on her midsection, his hips crushing in on her belly, driving what little bits of air he had recovered back from her lips, so a large bubble of saliva formed and then popped from her mouth. She whimpered, and you didn't need to be able to see her eyes to recognize a look of panic and desperation in her face. She'd been too long without air, and whether human, monster, servant, or goddess, everyone had instincts that kicked in with desperation when they ran out of that sweet oxygen.

She bucked up in the air, back arching the way his had for her handjob, as much an instinctive response as it was an attempt to roll him away. It seemed to dislodge her opponent, but in a battle this close, it was not enough to simply 'seem' to dislodge someone. He fell to his side, but in what seemed to be a calculated move, he slipped his leg under her arched back as he did. When her back fell down, it landed on hard, crushing thigh muscle.

He squeezed down. If there had been even the smallest bit of air in her lungs, she would have screamed like a banshee, but she could only silently flail, spitting up precum and saliva, her face had long past the light purple of her hair, even the more bold purple of the accents on her dress, and now seemed to resemble the rich, deep purple of Medea's mystic robes. She flailed like a fish caught in a boat and gasped for oxygen about as successfully, arms waving, legs kicking, and hands clutching out for anything to hold onto.

"AAAGH!" Archer screamed loud enough for the both of them. As her hand rolled and flailed randomly, it felt his stiff shaft a second time, and instinctively wrapped around his dripping cock. That last bit of pressure was almost enough to send him over the edge, and he bit his lower lip, closed his eyes, and tensed every muscle in his body in a last-ditch effort to contain his cum.

Every muscle included his legs, which stretched straight as a ruler and stiff as iron bars as he fought the pleasure. That made it worse for him, as Medusa panicked, her hands desperately trying to pound out a submission on the ground - And, unfortunately for him, on his cock as well.

"AAAAHHHHHHHH~!!!!" His cries echoed out as the bell rang, his cum shooting into the air well over St. Martha's head, and pouring down like a milky rainstorm. His firehose of a cock pulsed and spurted continuously in the air, his gasps turning to coughs and splutters as it landed in his mouth, his legs clutching too tight to spare Medusa even as the bell rang, and his screams of orgasm and the sound of his ass smacking back into the mat so loud that he couldn't have heard it even if they weren't.

*DING DING DING!*

It seemed to continue for almost a minute before he finally lay flat, staring at the ceiling, dripping with seed, and looking for all the world like he had been the one knocked flat with a blow to the chin. He barely gathered the strength to untangle his thighs from Medusa's midsection, and shifted just the tiniest bit out of the way to let her breathe

Medusa didn't move a muscle. Beneath the thick blindfold, her eyes had rolled back and were staring vacantly into the inside of her skull. He may not have cum for her, but his crushing legs, precum, and her spluttering for breath made it look like she'd been sucking cock for hours.

Quetzalcoatl looked up to Martha questioningly, microphone in hand, but unsure who would be announced as the winner. The Saint herself looked seemed to have an uncharacteristically unsure look, before indicating.

"And the winner of Round 2, Via Bodyscissors... ARCHER!"

As the announcement was made, a slight commotion, a mix of cheers and boos, rolled through the arena. A few seconds later, the distinct sounds of some sort of mystic commotion were heard, and a large number of mages, as well as a few servants, began to rush to the back.

"What's going on? Can anyone see what's going on?"

The female announcer sounded concerned, or even downright scared, certainly confused as the commotion rolled through the arena. She stood on her tiptoes. Everyone's eyes were to the back, even the referee.

As a result, not even those blessed with mystic eyesight could see the blast of magic energy that came from the body of Medusa, and she twisted to her feet and rushed for Archer once more. The cum-coated man could only do so much from his back as the Rider bore down on him, charging, kneeling, and wrapping one delicate-fingered hand around his throat. The other reached down to his bare cock, wrapping around him and beginning to pump once more, making him writhe and twist. The assault continued for a good fifteen, perhaps even twenty seconds, the bronze man reaching full stiffness once more

"Oh, My Kuku! She's all over him, Quetzalcoatl's headed to the back to deal with the commotion, and the ref isn't looking. I'm waiting to hear what's happening from the back, and-"

"I don't need to hear from the back to now what just happened," the priest interrupted, "The Matou family master is not famous for keeping a cool temper. That result can't have been pleasing. If you saw how quickly she was on her feet, that's a clear sign of command seal usage."

"That's impossible! Command seals are banned during Grail tournaments! And now Archer's suffering the consequences! Martha doesn't even see it!"

She didn't at first, but as the helpless male's moans grew louder, she turned and saw what was happening. She rushed over with a characteristically aggressive punch to the side of Medusa's head, knocking her sprawling to the ground. That attack seemed to break whatever spell was over the audience that kept them focused on the back. Medusa scrambled to her feet just as two more rulers materialized, Jean and Amakusashiro, and rushed to help restrain the Rider.

"I'm sorry, I can't be sure about what's going on right now, cats and kittens, but it's clear this tournament is taking a turn for the feral. The claws are out and the combat is getting wild! Kirei, you're supposed to be part of the administration, do something!"

The two manifested rulers had been thrown to the ground, and Medusa was back on Archer, her mouth around his shaft, and a look of shocked, almost mind-broken pleasure on his face. She drove down harder, and white cream began to pour from her lips, his hands clutching desperately at the mat!

"I'm also a Master, and there are combatants in the ring. It would be wrong for me to interfere until things are calmed down. It would be wrong for me to show bias."

"Show bias? The Matou Rider is fending off three Rulers to pounce on her opponent between rounds! How is interfering biased?!"

"If my servant injured either of them, it would give him an unfair advantage."

"FUCK YOUR SERVANT!" The cat-woman's hands slammed onto the desk, claws cutting scores in the wood, "The fur is flying, you can't just nap in the sun here, DO SOMETHING!"

"I doubt her mouth will be enough to drain his spirit origin entirely. As long as he has mana left, I can do what I need to once things are calm."

"You can do what y-" She began to yell, then interrupted herself, "You... I..." Then she stopped and looked at the ring in shock. Something was happening to the Matou rider, she had fallen to the ground, and snakes were beginning to flow from her hair. Her mouth had been drawn away from the Archer's cock, but it was little help to him, as the snakes slithered out, one finding the tip and swallowing down to the base, the other wrapping around and teasing his balls with its long, forked tongue.

"Oh... Oh no..." The announcer seemed shaken as she saw Medusa's back bulge, and then a long black tail burst out, "I'm sorry folks, it seems like things are a little out of hand here at the moment, and I'm being told we're going to have to let things settle. I know this isn't how anybody wants us to go off the air, but there's no telling what it's going to take to calm this situation, and I just got an evac order for the building. Every HUMAN," she said it pointedly, glaring daggers at the priest, "Is being ordered outside, and I'm afraid that includes our production team. We'll be back with you as soon as the dust settles. Until then, I'm Jag-Warrior, and unlike our alleged overseer, I'M going to do something!"

Her voice faded ever so slightly at the end of that as she leaped away from the magicast microphones, and towards the ring. Every available servant was being called on to try to deal with the out-of-control, rapidly transforming Rider. As the servants ran in and the humans filed out, Kirei Kotomine simply watched from the announce booth.

"Well, it looks like that's it for now, but to all our viewers at home, I urge you not to worry," he spoke slowly, and calmly into the microphone, "In the words of Deuteronomy, 'Be not afraid, for the Lord thy God is with you,' and as His representative here tonight, I want to assure everyone," a cold smile played across his lips, "I'm not going anywhere."