Fate/Sex Fight: Chapter 2 - Caster vs Gilgamesh

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Tomcats and Queens, and Kittens of all ages (above the age of consent at least) welcome!" The ever-excitable voice of Jag-Warrior, the great Holy Grail Tournament's perpetually positive female lead announcer called out, "What a thrill it is to be here today, here in fu-mew-ki-"

"You can't even say the name right?"

"Fine, FUYUKI Su-meow Hall, we're privileged to see a VERY special match-up, between a veteran from the Fourth Holy Grail Tournament, humanity's first hero, the ever-popular and ever-ARROGANT Gilgamesh, taking part in an exciting one-on-one matchup with his fellow fighter from the age of the gods, the Mistress of Magic herself, Medea. Archer, our competi-purrs are already in the ring, would you like to share your thoughts on this battle?"

"Provided I'm not expected to drop a reference to bows and arrows into every sentence, yes." He answered, adjusting himself in his seat, "This is going to be an interesting battle indeed. It may be considered a little bit unusual to use magic in the tournament, but magic is where Medea shines. On top of that, Gilgamesh will have his work cut out for him trying to get into her head. It's always helpful to have an opponent who's attracted to you physically, but at the very least, you can count on them not outright disliking you. Medea may have been attracted to men in the past, but I was able to take a look at her spirit origin, and I can confirm that this is NOT her Lily form-"

"-EVEN THOUGH any lily forms we summon would STILL be 18 years of age or older-" Jaguar Warrior added

"Obviously," Archer said, "But that means that this is Medea as an adult, and she swore off men long ago. From what I've heard, there's nothing she would like more than to make most men suffer. Gil may be motivated by his ego, but Medea's motivated by her passion for this contest."

"So you'd put your money on Medea then?" Asked Jag-warrior.

"Not necessarily," Archer replied pensively, "She has a great drive, but that can only do so much. It may sound unfair, but you haven't seen the size of Gilgamesh's ego."

"That is NOT the word I expected mew would end that sentence on," Jag-warrior didn't mess a beat as she segued to the match, "But like they say about egos, it's not the size, it's how you use 'em. And we're ALL going to be looking forward to finding out how Gil will use his tonight. So let's go to the ring, where Quetzalcoatl will be bringing us the introductions."

The full entrances had already occurred, but the Aztec goddess still stood in the ring, holding a microphone in her hand. Beside her stood a blond woman, bearing a striking but not ENTIRELY perfect resemblance to the previous match's victor, with a black and white referee's shirt stretched over some thick armor.

"Ladies and gentlemen, introducing, fighting out of the red corner, representing..." Her eyes opened a little wider as she stumbled over the words, and then continued, "Representing, uh, the Roman Catholic Church in communion with His Holiness John Paul II, Bishop of Rome, through Father Kirei Kotomine, Executor the Office of the Vigilum Magiae in Fuyuki..." She took a deep breath, "The King of Heroes, The First Hero of Humanity, Lord of All Treasure, King of Kings, First King, Equal to the Gods (Except Quetzalcoatl)-"

The blond man glared at that comment and she gave a teasing grin, "AND Jag-warrior of course,"

"YAY!~"

"I'm warning you wench..."

"Just being accurate. Anyway, Lord of Babylonia, Uruk, and All The Lands of Humanity, Companion of Enkidu, Greatest Man Who Ever Lived, Bar None," She paused, and glared at him, then added "Except El Santo of course" to herself "Summoned in the Archer class... KING GILGAMESH!"

The blond man was clearly less than pleased with the somewhat underwhelming additions to his introduction, but he refused to show it. Such expressions of anger would be beneath him, after all. He stood in all his glory, completely nude, the bright lights of the arena making every inch of his body glisten like a golden statue, from his spun-gold hair to his legs, standing proud and strong with the power and confidence of a god, and the beauty of adonis. He looked like a greek statue, more so even than any of the Greek servants, an idealized human form. He looked at the audience as if daring them to boo, and even those who disliked him were cowed into silence by his glare. He crossed his arms over his chest, showing not even a hint of shame or even discomfort standing nude in front of everyone, but nor did he show the joy of an exhibitionist. He seemed to see himself as perfection, clothed or nude, and it would be up to others to react. His beauty transcended such considerations.

His eyes then fell on Medea, with a look as if he didn't even consider herself a fellow servant. The sheer confidence and dominance in his gaze made it clear he regarded her not as an opponent, not as a woman, not even as a conquest, merely as a toy to be used and discarded. The disdain and power in his eyes was enough to shake not only most opponents, but the entire arena. Only the women in the ring showed no sign of intimidation. But the referee had no need to, the ring announcer was too excited by competition, and the opponent... Well, she probably couldn't afford to, or threw up some sort of disguise to hide such a reaction.

"And in the blue corner, representing..." The ring-announcer trailed off again, turning back to consult the referee. After a few seconds, she continued, "Representing HERSELF but drawing mana from the Kuzuki family... The Princess of Colchis, the Witch of Betrayal, the Magus from the Age of the Gods, Both Servant and Master of Servants, summoned in the Caster class.. PRINCESS... MEDEA!"

There the crowd cheered, those who had wanted to express distaste for Gilgamesh seeming willing to do so by supporting his opponent, but the cheers seemed to grow a little lower when the blond man fixed the audience with an icy stare. Still, it was hard to see a woman with the beauty of Medea and NOT be excited and hope for the best. Despite her reputation and history as a dark caster who would rather slay her master than serve a man, but per the requirements of the tournament, she could not wear too much protective covering.

When the cheers died down, she threw off her deep purple cloak, revealing her gorgeous body. Unlike Saber, her body didn't bare the signs of a great warrior. She was a mage, she didn't need muscle to defeat her opponents, and so her body was soft, with full breasts, round hips, a thick, rounded ass, and tight pussy that promised pleasure and humiliation to any man who entered. Her one-second strip-tease led to silence as the whole crowd gasped in unison at her beauty, as though her reputation was that of a twisted, sadistic killer, her face was angelic and almost carefree, and light blue hair cascaded down her back like the waters of the mediterranean, her skin as bright and brilliant as the beaches it broke on. Once the shock and excitement of her beauty passed, the cheers returned twice as loud. No man in the arena could hide his appreciation for her body.

No man, that is, except the one in the ring. Gilgamesh regarded her with the same indifference, even disgust, that he had before.

"Am I supposed to be impressed~?" He asked, "I've seen naked women before. You wouldn't be fit to lick the cunt of the vilest hag in my harems. If you surrender now, though, I might let you suck my cum from their cunts before I kill you."

"God-damn, sounds like he's pretty sure of himself, huh?" Asked Jag-Warrior, so taken aback by his dismissive attitude she didn't even remember to reference cats when she said it.

"Probably too confident," Archer said, "You can't defeat an opponent if you don't respect their capabilities."

"I can hear you from down here, Archer," Gilgamesh said, not even looking up to the press box the announcers sat in, "And I'll get to respecting her capabilities once I see some evidence she has any. Now," he stepped up to the center of the ring, arms still crossed, to addres Jean and Quetzalcoatl, "Ruler, kindly get that overgrown garden snake out of the ring so I can beat the vile Greek hag until her cunt matches her cloak."

Quetz whispered low enough only Gil could hear. "Just be glad I'm not in this tournament mortal."

"Be glad I lived before pistols, goddess, we know you can't protect your people against firearms."

The world literally darkened, the aura of Quetz's divine fury at his comment enough to twist into the very fabric of reality. Gil seemed not to notice, fixing Medea with his confident glare. "Now are you ready to suffer, which, or do you want me to pick a card first?"

"I wouldn't be so confident when challenging the magic of the ancients, Archer," Medea warned.

"If you wielded magic more potent than a parlor trick, I might consider it." He tossed his head, then turned to stare at the referee "Now get the weed out of the ring so I can destroy this hag and get to something more worthy of my attention. Like drying paint or a boiling pot."

"Weed? I-" Quetz began to speak, but Jean's hand fell to her shoulder, stopping her from interfering. The Aztec goddess fumed as she stepped out of the ring, leaving Gil alone with Jean and Medea.

The announce booth was uncharacteristically quiet as Jean ran down the rules to the two competitors. Uncharacteristically, Archer broke the silence.

"Anything to say about this match, Fuji?"

The answer was only heavy breathing for a moment, and he began to continue

"Would y-"

"I HOPE SHE RIPS HIS FUCKING DICK OFF AND CHOKES HIM WITH IT FOR TALKING TO KUKU LIKE THAT! THAT ARROGANT, HUBRISTIC, FLEA-BITTEN BRONZE AGE..." She paused, sputtering to come up with the right word, "FUCKING MORTAL!" She yelled, "He's lucky I'm an announcer or I'd shove my lance down his throat so hard it changes his fucking class! COME SEE ME WHEN YOU GET YOUR PIECES PUT BACK TOGETHER, YOU MANGE-RIDDEN MONGREL, AND I'LL SHOW YOU WHO THE FUCKING WEED IS!"

She yelled so loud that not only could the servants in the ring here it, the whole arena fell silent to look back at her. Gil, though, refused to even acknowledge her taunts. After a half-second look from Quetz to calm the play-by-play girl down, the bell rang, and the match could finally begin.

*DING DING DING*

Just like Archer had anticipated, Medea was intent on using her magic in the battle to her advantage. As soon as the bell had finished its sound, the ground around her feet seemed to dissolve into an inky black pool, and she faded down into the mat. Far from reacting in shock or confusion, though, Gilgamesh just stood, still as a statue, his arms crossed, as the blue-haired woman reappeared behind him, rising from the mat like Aphrodite from the sea, and reached around to grasp his shaft. It stood hard, though seemingly from his own desire to show his power at this point than any attraction to his opponent, and her long, elegant fingers closed around it and began to slowly stroke. Her breasts pressed to his back as she began to whisper in his ear, too low for the announcers or ring microphones to pick up the words.

"Yeah, GET HIM!" Yelled the clearly biased semi-feline announcer, "Show him who's boss, kick his fucking tail, Medea!"

"I'm glad we can have such insightful and eloquent commentary" Archer responded, a dismissive laugh in his voice.

The play-by-play woman fumed, "Only insight I want is insight into what he'd look like with his belly on my spear and his head on my wall!" She glared, "I can't believe he'd talk to Kuku like that!"

"I can't believe you're still calling the match in this state," Archer answered, "I hate him too, but we are the announce team. And for what it's worth, I can't believe he's not doing something about the predicament he's in."

And it's true, he wasn't. The powerful man didn't seem to have even noticed as Medea's hands rolled along his shaft. He stood with his arms still crossed, legs spread enough that it was almost like he was inviting her to do her best. And rather than shake and moan at how she worked him over, he simply yawned, and looked up at the clock above the ring. His shaft swelled in her hand, but it was clear that he still had total control as he rolled his shoulders.

And then, gold-colored runes like alchemist's circles appeared beneath Medea at the place she'd rose from the ground. A second passed, and then a long, thick poll shot forward... At first it looked like a spear, but after a second, it was clear that it was in fact a solid gold, gem-encrusted dildo that pulsed with light. Medea gasped, leaning forward and clutching at his neck as his summoned weapon assaulted her sensitive pussy, her juices beginning to drip in seconds while minutes of that handjob drew not even a drop of pre-cum from the confident archer.

He didn't even bother to look back at her, instead looking up to the referee. "These fights are so boring when we can use our magic. Would you mind setting some anti-magic field so this battle doesn't end too quickly." He gestured with a toss of his head to Medea, "And, I suspect in my favor."

"If your opponent allows it," The referee answered, and looked to Medea. Her face was flush, jaw slack, tongue lolling out and drool falling from her lips. She had her eyes clenched closed as she fought the pleasure that grew in her body from Gilgamesh's mystic sex toy. Magic may have been her greatest talent, but she knew her limits, and desperately nodded.

The Ruler-class referee waved her hand, sealing away spells and noble phantasms and forcing the two competitors to do battle on even terms.

"She can't do that! He can't do that! That's cheating!" Yelled the divine spirit from the commentary booth.

"His opponent agreed," Archer responded, "It's her choice."

"Yeah, but he... He was... SHE HAD TO HE CHEATED! HE CAN'T DO THAT!"

"He can, and did," Archer's voice was more stern, "And if you can't call this match evenly, you need to take a walk."

There was a loud crash of the Mage's crystal ball being pushed aside as the Lancer walked out. Down in the ring, the dildo withdrew slowly back to the Gate of Babylon, dripping Medea's juices. Once the gate closed, Gil turned around, grabbing her head and shoving his tongue into her mouth. Not just into her mouth, even, it looked like he was nearly shoving it down her throat, like he wanted to choke and gag her with the kiss. She gasped, and her eyes began to roll back as he pushed back and leaned in, arching her backwards and forcing her to swallow her own saliva and his along with the power of his tongue. Clear juices fell copiously from her lips and pussy as her arms raised up to his chest, and she tried to push him away. Tried, though, being the operative word, as he leaned in and manipulated her body around the ring. Most competitors would try to pin an opponent to ropes or corners, but he was marching her around with the kiss... Seemingly more intent on proving his control than he was on gaining an advantage in the match.

"This is certainly an unorthodox strategy," observed Archer from his vantage point in the announce booth, now forced to call the show alone, "But it seems he's focused on gaining a psychological edge. I hate to condone showing off, but it doesn't seem to be hurting him. He just needs to be careful that - Ahh, yes, there it is!" He called out, as he saw Media raise her hand between Gil's legs, and start to rub his shaft. Gilgamesh was a powerful man, for sure, but he was still only a man, and too much time with his shaft being worked would be dangerous. Already his confident stance as she had tried to jerk him off had worked him up, and now Archer could see his cock stiffen just that little bit more. It was an advantage for Medea, even if not a particularly great one, but it did look like she had revealed a crack in the seemingly impermeable facade of power Gilgamesh projected.

Her hand stroked along his shaft, teasing and dancing along it like the ocean waves. The mushroom head of his shaft swelled out, glistening and full. Despite her counter-attack, Gilgamesh was still standing strong, leaning his full weight against her.

His hand trailed up to the back of her head, and clutched tight on her ocean-blue hair. She moaned lightly at the feeling of him grasping her... Before he suddenly yanked down, sending her crashing down to the mat.

"AHH~!" She gasped, the back of her head bounced off the mat, stunning her a little with the impact.

Gilgamesh stood, staring down at the woman at his feet. "Where you belong, hag," He growled low, before stepping forward, and driving his foot into her side. Medea cried out in pain as the impact sent her rolling onto her front, full breasts pressed to the canvas. The golden-haired man stepped forward and reached down, weaving his hands into her bright blue hair once more, and yanking on it, stepping forward to drag her by her hair into the middle of the ring as she cried out and pulled helplessly at his wrist, forced to crawl along behind him like a dog.

He threw her to the ground, smashing the front of her head to the mat again, dazing her even more, before reaching down and pulling her back up to her hands and knees with his left hand. With his right, he reached behind her, and delivered a heavy slap to her rounded ass, hard enough to leave a mark as red as Archer's cloak.

"This is a brutal assault here by Gilgamesh," Archer commented, "It's clear he has no respect for his opponent, and with how badly she's struggling, it looks like he doesn't need to either. Look at her face turning red as he strikes her!"

And it was, the poor princess was going beet-red as Gilgamesh's hand struck her ass, over and over. She began to moan, hands occasionally reaching up to try to pull his hand from her hair, then back down to the ground. Not only was she struggling to fight back, it was clear she was struggling not to break down in tears from how the powerful man assaulted her ass.

Then he gave a yank on her hair, just to let himself step back a bit, and his hand drifted lower. Now rather than striking her rounded ass cheeks, which had come to resemble brightly-painted asphalt from the color of the flesh and the raised welts of his blows. His blows reached down to strike at her still-dripping pussy, getting a loud "AIIYYYEEE~!" of agony and arousal as the blows made the helpless witch shake in agony, crying out from the pain and yet undeniable pleasure.

"This is the most one-sided fight I've ever seen. It's hard to imagine how she'd be able to come back from this, she may have to hope for better luck in the second round. It looks like he's about to literally spank an orgasm out of her!"

And it truly did. Her pussy juices flowed freely down her thighs, now, her face and ass flushed the same color as Gilgamesh tormented her. The blows came heavy, and loud enough to echo throughout the arena, the whole crowd having fallen silent in shock as Gil's hand struck home on her pussy lips time and time again. Her thighs began to quake, and while her tears and drool flowed down her cheeks, it was clear an orgasm would come soon.

"She's not going to last much longer at this!" Archer yelled out, "The most she can do is hope for mercy!"

And to his shock, it looked like Gilgamesh might have been willing to show it. Once again he threw his opponent - For now, victim seemed the better term - To the ground. Unable to stop her head from slamming into the mat, she fell to the ground, head down and ass up, looking like a grovelling peasant or a worshipper begging a god for guidance. If Gil was a god, though, he was not a merciful one. He raised his foot, and then stomped it down on the small of Medea's back, sending her ass to the floor as well. She shook on the mat, and he raised his foot again, stomping the center of her back, right along her spine at a point where no muscle and only think flesh could protect it. She screamed in agony, and he reached down, grabbing her hair, and yanked backwards. He stood over her, pulling on her hair, bending her back farther than it was meant to go, and putting his entire weight at the most vulnerable spot of the spine. Medea seemed to be reacting on pure instinct now, and she screamed.

"Submit, whore," Gil commanded her, "Or you'll need all the magic you can muster just to walk again!"

Medea was way ahead of him. Before he could even finish his command she wailed and began to pound on the mat, tapping out, giving up the round in desperation.

*DING DING DING!*

The bell rang... But Gilgamesh didn't release, pulling her hair harder, bending her spine even more viciously.

"What's he doing?" Archer asked, "He won! This is despicable. He should be disqualified!"

It looked like the ref agreed, stepping forward to order Gilgamesh to release. Gil met her gaze.

"Count, you crossdressing cunt, or did the voices in your head not tell you I have 'til five?"

Fire in her eyes, Jean began to count.

"ONE!"

"TWO!"

"THREE!"

"FOUR!"

"FI-"

Gil timed himself perfectly, letting her start the final count but not finish it, when he threw Medea to the ground, clutching her beaten head, drawing her legs close to herself, curling up in tears of agony and humiliation. The blonde man walked to the corner, ignoring the boos of the audience and the glare of the referee, who watched him walk for a moment before making the announcement.

"The winner of round one, by hair-pull backbreaker, Gilgamesh!"

There was no applause for the announcement.

"Well, I don't know what I can say about that one," Archer said after a moment of silence, "It's pretty clear that Gilgamesh had total control of the match from the moment the bell rang. Medea's going to have her work cut out for her as far as coming back from that type of beating, but quite frankly I wouldn't know where to begin. It took her a good five minutes uninterrupted handjob before he even seemed to be reacting, and the closest she got was a bit of pre and a slight grunt. I hope her Master saw something in that match I didn't, because if not, she's in for a long round two."

In her corner, her master, a tall man in a dark green suit, was addressing the beautiful caster, wiping away tears with one hand. It wasn't clear if the conversation was about strategy or just an attempt to get her back on her feet, but it did seem to work. As he spoke, Medea's attitude seemed to change from humiliation to fury, and there was a fire in her eyes when she turned back to face the Sumerian hero. Gilgamesh had the same look of confidence in his eyes, staring at the woman like she was barely worth his breath or attention.

"It looks like the competitors are ready, let's get to round two."

*DING DING DING!*

Gil stepped out of his corner confidently and carefully, while Medea charged across the ring, her long hair flowing behind her. Gil, though, barely seemed to move at all, and yet he was still almost in the center of the ring by the time that Medea reached him. He moved like a striking snake, going from standing still to grasping her so fast even Archer's reinforced eyes struggled to keep up with his motion. Before he could even register the action, Gil had already grasped her body again, one hand on her hip, another on her shoulder, pressing her close to him and bringing his lips to hers, and sliding his tongue between her lips once more. She gasped a brief breath before his lips sealed hers, and his tongue began to stroke hers and control her mouth, twisting from roof to base and putting the powerless caster back in her place.

"And it looks like Gil is RIGHT back on the attack, he hasn't missed a beat between rounds, and I don't know what her Master told her in the break, but it doesn't seem to be working."

It didn't. Indeed, it had probably been all her master could do to convince her to continue to fight and not give up, to keep her wish and victory in mind. It seemed not to be enough, as her face grew flush again, and saliva slipped from her lips whenever Gilgamesh pulled back enough to allow it, dripping from her chin down to her breasts in a way that made it clear the only reason he gave her even that much air was to let her feel her own humiliation on her body.

She raised her hand to try to strike the ancient king, and without missing a beat, he raised his own from her shoulders, the hand on her hips going up just enough to control her whole body with it, grasping her clenched fist like a ballroom dancer.

He dipped her, leaning forward and dragging his tongue across her neck, tasting her sweat, her body, and bending her to expose her red and sobbing eyes to all present, let everyone see the control he held over the woman in his arms.

"I can taste your tears~" He said, as his tongue trailed up to her cheeks, licking them clean, "It's good to know you realize your weakness. In time, you will come to embrace it. There's no shame in being subdued by a greater force. You should be honored to even have my tongue touch you~"

With that, he dipped her again, further down, holding her hand to the side and wrapping his lips around her breasts. Her tears began to drip into her hair as the powerful man used and controlled her body, but just as he was still a man, she was still a woman, and the skilled assault of his tongue against her breasts led nectar to drip from her lower lips once more.

"R-release... M-me... Y-you... B-b-bastard!" She sobbed, "I'm n-no toy, I'm a w-w-w-woman~!"

Gilgamesh's lips pulled from her breasts, saliva and milk connecting his tongue to her nipples "Are you, Medea~?" He asked, "Are you really a woman~? I could hardly tell." In a single, smooth motion he returned her to her feet, standing and staring her eye to eye. The hand that had held her waist moved down between her legs, giving her a hard slap like before, but keeping his grip, grabbing her pussy like he was testing fruit for firmness. She gasped and leaned against him, but at least stood her ground.

"Until now," He continued, "I thought you were nothing but a toy, a weak lost little girl who had been sent to me as punishment," His lips spread in a cruel smile, "But if you think you're a worthy partner for me," He grabbed her hips and hand and twirled her away, spinning her out of his arms like a ballroom dancer, and staring into her bloodshot eyes once she stopped, "Then let us dance."

"Well," Archer said, trying to keep his voice neutral, "You can't say he's not confident. I'm not sure Medea's going to get a better chance than this one... Oh, Fuji, you're back."

"I'm keeping my mouth shut for now, I just wanna see her grind that mewling runt to a pulp."

"She'll have her work cut out for her, but let's see if she can pull out a round two."

Medea had taken her time composing herself. Her body seemed to shake with rage, while Gil just awaited her response. She narrowed her eyes, wiped one puffy red eye with the back of her hand... And rushed forward.

All her rage and humiliation poured into one attack, she glared through tear-stained eyes at Gil as she rushed him, her fury growing so strong that an aura surrounded her and her hand glowed with dark magic despite the referee's ward on the ring. Gil, though, remained as unimpressed as ever, and as soon as she was in range, he reached up to grab her hair, and pull hard with his left hand, bending her back as his right drove in between her legs, deep into her cunt, and he began to aggressively finger her pussy once more, staring into her eyes as she gasped and they rolled back again.

"You stupid little cunt!" He growled, "You think you're a woman? You wouldn't be fit to be slave to the most worthless beggar in my city." His hand gripped tighter and he yanked her head back farther, making the gorgeous woman cry out in further agony, mouth rounded in a shocked gasp as he crushed her resistance and pride with more force than he had before. The look on her face was one of desperation as well as humiliation as he took her pussy and showed that despite the ease and dominance with which he had been conquering her so far, he hadn't even BEGUN to show his true power.

"Ahhhh~!" She cried out, juices flowing heavily now, hands clasping at the air as she tried to force him off of her. They found his neck, his face, his chest, but her attempts to shove him off her were like she was trying to push a cliff away from the sea. Her body shook, fury, fear, and arousal combining into one mind-bending sensation.

"You should have submitted before this match even started!" Gilgamesh yelled, "Is this what you wanted? You wanted me to fight you? You should have been glad I would waste my time even toying with such a pathetic waste of flesh before. I was happy to crush your pride, but you MADE me crush your mind!"

"G-get off me!"

"Why?! Are you regretting your choices?!"

"Get off!"

"You should! You should have groveled before me when you had the chance, whore!"

"GET! OFF!" She cried out, clutched his chest, and raised her knee between her legs. It was one blow struck with all the dark power, fury, humiliation, and arousal she had, as much a dark spell as it was a low blow in a battle. Hero or not, Servant or not, there are limits to male anatomy. Gil's body went limp for just a second and Medea stepped backwards, shoving the golden man away, leaving him clutching his cock and balls, knees bent and glaring at her.

She took a deep breath, recovering from his assault, then watched in shock as he slowly returned to his feet. She had been unable to crack his confident facade or get him to drop the appearance of pure power and disdain for her, and as soon as she started to recover from the previous assault, she began to regret it. He approached her with a look of white-hot rage in his eyes, as if he had been the one subjected to a match-long sexual and psychological destruction. Instinctively, she backed up, raising her to try to keep space between her and the furious hero,

"No, please, I-" She began, before he reached out, shoving her hands to the side, stepping up to press his body to hers, his chest to her breasts, gripping her biceps, holding them to her sides, and stepping in to deliver a knee strike of his own between her legs.

"AIIYEEEE~!" She cried out at the blow, but he didn't let it rest, immediately withdrawing his leg and driving it up again to her cunt like a cannon shot.

"Is this what you wanted? Is that how you want to fight, bitch?" He growled, leaning in and speaking with his lips to her ear as the force of the blows made the helpless woman fall forward against his body. Her tears ran down his cheeks as he drove his knee up to her pussy again, her labia and clit crushed by bone. Screams of agony echo'd through the arena, but he refused to stop. No show, no flash, not even a bit of petting or molestation to add to the humiliation, just simple, constant knees between the legs. When she tried to close her legs to stop him, he kicked them to the side to open them again and deliver another blow. When she tried to push him away from her, he clutched her arms tighter to hold them still and continue his strikes.

Finally, he stepped closer, until he was staring over her shoulder at the ref, the timekeeper, and the entire arena, and his assault went from cannon shot to machine gun. He began driving up into her bruised and dripping cunt, the blows and her pre-existing arousal making the sensation all the more painful and humiliating for the helpless woman. She lasted three seconds, maybe four, of his rapid-fire strikes before crying out

"STOP! PLEASE! STOP! LET GO! I SUBMIT! I SUBMIIIIIIIIIIIT!"

*Ding Ding Ding!*

The bell rang instantly, and Jean immediately rushed forward, "Release her, Gil!"

He stared into the Ruler-class servant's eyes, and delivered another knee directly to Medea's cunt, "One." He began, starting the five count on his own.

"Two," He drove his knee between her legs again, her eyes unfocused and jaw falling lax, tongue beginning to lol out, knees shaking from his torment of her body.

"Three," He continued, and struck her again. Her head rolled back for a moment, but her body fell forward, slumping helplessly against his chest. Her head rolled with it, mouth hanging open, drooling over his shoulder.

"Four," The blow hit home once again, and her neck and legs began to tense and her muscles shake. Her cheeks went flush, and even as she seemed to have lost all control from the humiliation and torture, a final orgasm seemed to be building deep in her belly as his blows repeatedly struck her most sensitive area.

"Five." He finished, and struck her again. Every muscle in her body tensed and seized up at once, as a long delayed orgasm was forced out of her, as much by the shame and destruction as it was by the final blow. Cum flowed freely from her cunt, and her body writhed and shook against Gilgamesh's chest. He clutched her close like a lover, meeting Jean's eyes with a wicked smile, before throwing the blue-haired witch to the ground.

She collapsed with a low thud and twitched as her orgasm continued, thighs stained with cum, cheek with tears, and breasts with milk and drool. He stepped forward, casually stomping on her belly as he approached the referee who had been standing behind her. He stopped at her shoulder and rested one foot on her face, and seemingly on instinct, Medea began to lick, kiss, and worship the his sole, stained though it was with her own cum and sweat.

"Five count," Gil said, "You're welcome to disqualify me... If you want her to suffer another round."

The referee seethed, staring him down before making her decision.

"The winner of round two..." She began, "By cuntbusting submission... Gilgamesh!"

Gil smiled and strode forward, delivering a light kick to Medea's head and getting a whimper as a result as if she missed sucking on his feet. He drove his shoulder into hers as he passed, and she reached out, grabbing his bicep to stop him.

"I had to stop the match for her protection. Do not expect me to give you a pass on another opponent."

Gil just laughed, "Do not expect another opponent to fare any better than she did," he responded, and looked up at the announcers, "Whoever it is." He added, before brushing Jean's grip away and departing.

There was another moment of silence as he left, which Archer broke again.

"Well, that was certainly an unusual comment. His next opponent is going to be the Saber-class Artoria, and he'll have to be careful. Medea isn't used to physical combat, but that's Artoria's specialty. He-" He paused, "Where are you going, Taiga?"

The lancer class held her jaguar-paw spear, "Just grabbing my microphone, Shirou~" Her voice entirely that of the highschool teacher whose body he inhabited for now, a disturbing thought as she looked at the spear with the excitement that the real Fujimura would have looked at a four course meal, "I've got a post-match interview to conduct~" She laughed as the spear glowed, and the orange tiger-paw faded into the blade of a naginata, her striped kigurumi fading into a perfectly tailored black suit. She smiled almost kindly at him as she strode to the exit with the weapon in hand, "Don't wait up~" She called out musically.

"Ahhh, alright then," Archer shrugged, turning to the crystal ball, "Well, it looks like Jag-Warrior's off to do her own thing, so that leaves me to handle the sign-off. So, uh, something about a meowing cat, and on behalf of Jaguar Warrior, I'm this tournament's Archer class, signing off."