Avatar: Establishment, Book 2
Chapter 72

Copyright© 2005 by Dark Pen

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 72 - A man becomes the Avatar of the Goddess of Sex. These books chronicle his adventures. <br>This is the continuation of Avatar: Establishment, Book 1. It picks up right where Book 1 left off.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Consensual   Lesbian   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Science Fiction   BDSM   DomSub   MaleDom   FemaleDom   Rough   Humiliation   Torture   Group Sex   Orgy   Anal Sex   Fisting   Sex Toys   Lactation   Water Sports   Voyeurism  

After shopping, the ladies ended up in a very nice restaurant ordering an early dinner. Antonia was still quite horny and trying not to show it. Unfortunately, the two Cosmos she'd had weren't helping her be discreet.

"Okay," she finally said, "I know I shouldn't ask this. It's none of my business. But do you two really both consider yourselves Ken's wives?"

Ari and Jane looked at each other, then Jane looked back at Antonia.

"Yes."

Antonia blinked, somewhat surprised by the simple answer.

"Yes?" she repeated. "How does that work?"

"Differently than you might imagine," said Ari with a smile.

"Different how?"

"Well, of course there are legalities involved," said Ari. "Jane and I are married to each other as well as being married to Ken. But none of it is 'legal'. The laws are too narrow to allow that kind of freedom in this country."

Antonia knew all about laws -- her husband made good money skirting a number of them. Some of those laws she agreed with, but many she did not, so she thought she understood where these two were coming from. But there was another question she was just dying to know the answer to.

"Are you both his slaves?" she asked, flushing slightly. The image of Jane and Ari being dominated by Ken was very difficult to get out of her head.

Jane grinned and nodded.

"Oh yes," she said.

"Wow," said Antonia, leaning back and sipping her drink. "That must be interesting."

"We do live a somewhat different kind of lifestyle," said Ari with a smirk.

"But then," added Jane looking at Antonia, "yours isn't exactly normal either."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Elaine serves as your slave, doesn't she?" asked Jane.

Antonia flushed, this time with a bit of anger. While it was more or less openly acknowledge that her husband had a mistress or two, Antonia's involvement was never, ever mentioned. Unless Elaine had said something, in which case she would be living in The House for the next year -- providing she was still breathing once Antonia got finished with her.

"Well, Angelo is a man with power and one who has certain ... appetites," Antonia said, quickly getting back on firm ground. She'd had this conversation with a number of women over the years. How women viewed Angelo's indiscretions usually determined how Antonia responded. In this case though, she wasn't sure how to respond. "I would prefer he enjoy those activities that I do not with another woman. It's more common than you might think."

"Oh I know it's very common," replied Jane with a smile. "But that wasn't what I meant. Elaine hasn't said as much -- in fact she hasn't said anything -- but it's clear that you are part of that dynamic. You're as much of a sexual dominant as he is, and I can't imagine Angelo in any type of a submissive role. That simply isn't him. I also can't imagine either of you being comfortable sleeping with another man, which would leave you with no sexual outlet for your ... interests. It's obvious you're both very much in love with each other and quite happy with your marriage -- which wouldn't be the case of you didn't have an outlet for your interests. Your clear interest in Ari indicates that you are bisexual, at least at some level, so I'm guessing that you almost certainly share Tony's mistresses."

Antonia made a vow at that moment to never, ever underestimate any of these people again. They were far too perceptive for their own good. Or hers. Jane took a sip of her drink while Antonia thought about how to respond. When she said nothing after a moment, Jane continued.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to embarrass you. Really. I just wanted you to know that we understand how complicated personal relationships can be. And how outsiders almost never understand such things."

Holy crap, thought Antonia, the alcohol she'd consumed burned away as she brought her brain back on line. She'd allowed herself to relax with these two, certain that they'd be good fun but not particularly interested in the kind of social politics she often found herself engaging in with the wives of other men. With most of those women, she had to be careful and always mindful of her social position. It wasn't that the Costa family position was fragile, it was just that perceptions had to be maintained. Men in Angelo's position were expected to act in certain ways, as were their wives.

The Whitestones did not run in the same social circles as she and her husband, yet Jane had just let Antonia know that the Whitestones wouldn't take kindly to anyone mentioning that Jane and Ken were involved in a sexual relationship with an underage girl. Yes, Ari was almost eighteen, but American hypocrisy and prudishness knew no bounds. If someone official found out, it could cause them problems. Just as if Antonia's activities with Angelo's mistresses became common knowledge it could cause him problems.

Jane had kept her eyes on Antonia the entire time, but Antonia couldn't detect even a hint of triumphant attitude over her maneuvering of the conversation. Was she even aware of what had happened? What that exchange of comments had meant to Antonia?

"I understand," said Antonia. Her voice giving no hint that she was getting angry. And here she thought that these were some people she wouldn't have to play games around. It was most disappointing.

"I don't think you do," replied Jane. "I'm not familiar with the social rules of someone in your position, and I'm guessing that I just crossed some line. If so, I apologize. What I really meant to say was that there is no need to be anyone other than who you are with us. We don't care. We're not in any kind of a ... competition with you over some position in society. We like you and this was my way of saying that we're not in the habit of talking about other people's business. I'm sorry of I got too personal."

Could that be true? wondered Antonia. Certainly the two of them seemed to have no social ambitions. They couldn't be more unpretentious. And it would be nice to have friends who weren't using her in one way or another to climb the social ladder. She'd have to think on it. In the meantime, however, she intended to enjoy the rest of the evening.


"So that's it?" asked Bobby. "That's all you got?"

"I'm telling you Bobby, no one knows where they went," replied Brent. "No one from any club has seen them."

"Not even those asswipe Hawkes?"

"Well, it's not like I can just walk up an' ask," replied Brent, running his fingers through his hair. "But word is, they don't know either."

"Jesus fucking CHRIST!" yelled Bobby. "You don't do this shit, not to my club. Now you find one of those fuckers and get some fucking information, you understand me?"

Brent didn't think that was a good idea and said so.

"Look, Bobby," he said, "if we grab one of them before we gotta date for the next shipment, the cops could come lookin' for us."

"Bullshit," replied Bobby. "I got the cops handled. They ain't gonna do nuthin' to us."

The men were both quiet for a moment.

"Still," said Bobby, "you might have a point. We don't need any heat, cuz I don't want Harrison to know everything we got goin'. Just grab one of 'em. Rough 'em up a little an' get some answers."


Sensei had called earlier in the day and requested that Ken come to the dojo that evening. Ken wondered what was up, since there had been an announcement earlier in the week that the dojo would be closed today. However, Sensei rarely asked Ken to do anything like this, so Ken had agreed.

The place was dark when he got there, although he saw Sensei's car. He opened the back door with the key that Sensei had provided him, and noted that the alarm was not active. Ken locked the door and picked up his bag. Sensei had said he should come with his gear.

The front room of the dojo was dark, but Sensei was waiting there, standing on the mats.

"Hello Ken," he said. "I'm glad you decided to come."

"Is there something wrong?" asked Ken.

"Not at all," replied Sensei. "Please change and meet me in the back room."

"Sure."

The back room? That was odd. As far as Ken knew, the back room was just a spare room. Nothing ever went on in there. There were no mirrors, no mats, no workout equipment, nothing. When Ken walked in after getting changed, he noted that the lights were very dim. Sensei was sitting seiza, perfectly motionless. That didn't change when Ken walked into the room, although Ken was certain that Sensei knew that he was here. Not knowing what else to do, Ken knelt facing Sensei and closed his eyes. He noted that there was an elongated box on the floor in front of Sensei. He wondered what it was, since it was too short for a sword. Perhaps a knife?


One of the things he'd been working on with Sensei was the ability to use all of his senses to assess his surroundings. To use his own chi to feel when others were around him. He could use his Avatar gifts to find people -- providing that they weren't hostile towards him -- but using his senses in the way Sensei was teaching him was very different. He was getting pretty good at it and had even been able to locate Sensei using this new skill. It wasn't infallible, but it did work. Now, as he reached out, he realized that he and Sensei weren't the only ones in the building. There were four others.

He opened his eyes and looked at Sensei who still had his closed.

"Correct," said Sensei, "we are not alone."

He opened his eyes and looked at Ken, then leaned forward and opened the box. There was a black belt inside of it, and Ken immediate knew what this was about.

"This has been yours for a long time," said Sensei. "You are the most skilled martial artist I have ever met. Your previous Sensei, Sensei Tate, agreed. He was very upset when you turned your back on the arts and left."

Ken said nothing. He'd had very good reasons for his actions.

"I know that he would be very proud that you've returned," continued Sensei. "So. You will take this belt and wear it. It was, in case you were wondering, your former master's first black belt."

A rush of emotion filled Ken. Sensei Tate had been a good man. He'd guided Ken almost from the time he'd started the arts until Ken had left them after the incident with Susan. It wasn't a surprise to Ken that Tate had been upset that he'd left the arts, but the man had respected his decision. Ken had been very upset when he'd heard the man had died.

"You knew Michael Tate?" asked Ken.

"Yes," replied Sensei. "And I knew who you were the moment you walked into my school. Michael knew that you would be unable to keep from returning to the arts. He asked me to take you as a student if you did. And, before he passed, he gave me this to pass on to you."

"How could he have possibly known that I'd end up in your studio?" asked Ken.

"Perhaps," replied Sensei with a smile, "you are not the only one who has access to ... other sources of information. Michael was a very impressive man. He was looked upon as a deeply spiritual man by many of us."

"Why didn't you tell me you knew him?" asked Ken.

"I'm telling you now," replied Sensei.

Ken had no answer to that. Sensei had had his reasons, and they would probably remain his own.

"So," continued Sensei when Ken remained silent, "this belt is yours. But I would like to offer you something else."

He reached up and detached a small pin from his lapel. He held it out to Ken, who took it in his hand. In the dim light he could see that it was a simple black-filled circle, with a single teardrop of blood red in the center. This was the pin that Ken had seen Sensei wear on very rare occasions.

"What is this?"

Sensei smiled.

"Think of it as the symbol of an additional level of achievement. One that I'm inviting you to try and earn," replied Sensei. "There are many who can fight well -- in a ring. But when faced with real danger, they are found ... wanting. I suspect that you are not one who would be found wanting. Shall we find out?"

Ken suspected that there was more going on here than met the eye. Still, he nodded and handed back the pin. Sensei smiled, and rose from the floor, motioning Ken to do the same. That was when Ken felt the other people moving closer. It didn't take long before four men whom he'd never met walk into the room. Three of the men were bigger than Ken, and one about -- a man with night black skin -- was about Eric's size. The fourth was smaller, perhaps an inch shorter than Ken. All looked like they were in the military and each one of them looked very dangerous. They moved until they were equally spaced around Ken. He watched them position themselves, then turned back to Sensei.

"The rules are simple," said Sensei. "You must draw blood from each of them before the bout is over. They will not give up, but you may, at anytime, tap out."

"That's it?" asked Ken. "Those are the only rules?"

"Correct," said Sensei. "Do you wish to participate? No one will think less of you if you do not."

Ken shook his head. "No, I don't want to bow out."

"I thought not." Sensei made a motion as he stepped back, and the four men started to close. "Oh yes," smiled Sensei, "I forgot to mention. Once you have defeated them, you will face me."

This, realized Ken, was going to hurt.

He figured that all four of them were going to try and pile on to him and take him down. After all, that would be the most effective way to immobilize him. Get enough people around a person, and anyone can be brought down. They didn't though. Instead, two of them came for him, one high and one low, in a perfectly coordinated attack.

Ken moved towards the one that was coming in high. The man was perfectly balanced, even though he was leading with a punch, so pulling him off balance would have required quite a bit of strength. Ken brushed the man's punch to one side but rather than just disengaging, he fell backwards as he counter-grabbed the extended wrist. The man was actually caught off guard since the direction Ken moved in was ninety degrees from the direction he had have been moving. Few people could change direction like that and still retain their center, never mind bring any force to bear. The man didn't go down though -- he just went with where he was being pulled, still mostly centered. However, the third man coming in to attack found himself having to pull his punch to keep from breaking his friend's rib.

As the third man pulled his punch, something smacked into his mouth while a foot kicked the back of one knee. He went down, the taste of blood filling his mouth as he tried to regain his balance.

"One!" snapped Sensei.

"Shit," came a muttered curse.

Ken was out of position from where his fourth assailant thought he'd be, but the man instantly adapted and began to circle in from behind. Ken could feel where the man was, but was too busy with first attacker who was coming at him again. His low kick had never been delivered -- Ken simply hadn't been there, so he tracked where Ken was and went for him again, moving around the man whose wrist Ken had used to change his direction. He threw a flurry of kicks, mainly as a distraction so that Ken couldn't prepare for the man coming up behind him.

Time slowed as Ken felt the blow coming at him from behind. The man kicking him was unbelievably fast, and Ken needed to block those kicks. Worse, the third man was coming to join his friends, looking like he was going for the tackle.

Ken slid forward, binding the leg of the man that was drawn back for a snap kick. The movement was just enough for the punch from behind to graze his ear, rather than hit with enough force to stun him. Ken felt it the instant the man realized his snap-kick had failed and decided to grapple, but it was too late. The final man simply plowed into them and took them all down in a heap.

It was a fur-ball with elbows and knees flying. And fingers, as one of them almost managed to get a grip on Ken's nose, of all things. A knee landed in Ken's rib, and he felt it crack, and something hit him in the back of the head, the blow hard enough that it almost shook the calm, time-slowed center Ken had found. Almost. He threw his own head back, cracking it into something. At the same time, a blow meant for his nose ended up almost crushing his exposed throat. Ken twisted -- not easy to do with close to two hundred pounds of person on top of him -- and the blow missed, but only barely.

Something, an elbow or knee, slammed into his kidney. Pain should have almost completely immobilized him as there was some minor damage there, but it didn't. It did make Ken realize that he couldn't stay in this pile any longer: Three to one was very bad odds, especially on the ground with trained men.

An opening appeared, a place where he could wrap his hand around the back of someone's neck. So he did, hooking it in crane form with his right hand. Then he pulled, using the man's weight as leverage to pull himself out of the pile. In a flash he was on his feet, but as he rose, he mule kicked and felt someone go down. The man didn't get up and now Ken was facing two people.

They made a coordinated attack, but Ken slipped the kick, accepting the blow so that he could get a shot in on the one who'd thrown the punch. Ken had a clean shot at the man's head, so he bloodied his nose, which left him with one man. He was the smallest of them, but he was very, very fast. Punches, kicks and blocks flew. Ken was bleeding from small cuts, and from a split lip, but he wasn't the one that could stop when he showed blood.

 
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