(chapter originally by: worstfailure)
"This is your prized competitor?"
Though Izzy had often intimidated Stan at only 5'5'' due to her sizable assets, Sumiko "Squasher" Yama showed him what a true colossus looked like. The feared criminal enforcer easily dwarfed his partner, Izzy's head not even coming up to Yama's massive chest. At 6'8'' and 275 lbs, the 32-year-old woman was built like a sumo wrestler and dressed like a punk rocker. Her black hair was done up in a topknot but streaked with neon green that matched her nail color. Her black lipstick and piercings reminded Stan uncomfortably of his psychotic stepsister Tessa. She wore a black tank top, two neon green skulls bulging and stretched out because each of her breasts was bigger than a grown woman's head. Her jeans, ripped at the knee, likewise struggled to contain the girth of her ass, each cheek the circumference of a hula hoop. While Yama appeared simply overweight, Stan's mother had taught him not to underestimate a woman's strength just because they looked fat. There were clearly muscles hidden beneath those deceptive layers of adipose tissue, it was easy to see from the way her thick arms bulged when she folded her arms, and though hidden under her tight jeans, Stan bet her thicker legs were just as, if not more, muscled.
Yama and her family had immigrated from Japan when she was a teenager. As a youth she'd already amassed quite the criminal record and her parents had moved less so for her mother's new job than for a chance to give their daughter a second chance at a normal life in a new country. It hadn't worked. At just 18, Yama had gotten into a brawl with seven older women that ended with her opponents unconscious and with multiple broken bones. All of them had been seasoned enforcers for the Red Whale. But rather than retaliate against the youth, Scarlet Helgesson had offered her a position in her organization. Since then, Yama had been arrested for robbery, extortion and assault, but none of the charges had ever been able to stick. She'd also been tried twice, each time for the mysterious disappearance of an influential tiny, the first a political hopeful, the second a renown Tiny Rights activist. She'd been found innocent each time, in the second case because a key witness had suddenly changed her mind about testifying. And those were just the two she was charged with. The department suspected her involvement in the disappearance of dozens of tinies and given her reputation as well as her business at the Pit, the number of tiny disappearances may well have reached triple digits.
The Pit and the Tiny Trials were Yama's own pet project, but Helgesson funded and profited the most off of them. Unfortunately, since no documentation linked the Red Whale directly with the underground arena, it was up to the police to find it.
That's why Stan was here, in the darkened back office of a warehouse under which the Pit was located, being appraised like a piece of meat by one of the most feared women in the country. He was practically naked save for a flesh colored speedo Izzy had picked out and he was amazed that despite the fact he was so afraid he was still able to feel mortifyingly embarrassed as the giantess sized him up.
"Cute," Yama said. "I like the porn stache. But otherwise nothing special. He's puny, even by the standards of most tinies. No muscles to speak of. Jittery." All of a sudden she formed a fist and brought it down directly on top of him. Stan let out a panicked squeak but there was no time to get away! He closed his eyes to brace for impact... but it never came. He opened his eyes and saw Yama's fist hovering over him. "And his reflexes suck. I don't see him lasting through the first game of the night. Honestly, I'm doing you a favor by offering to buy him at all. $250, cause I'm feeling generous."
"Forget that!" Izzy said, dressed in a sweat shirt and jeans. Despite the presence of Yama and two of her henchwomen, Lopez seemed far more comfortable in her role undercover than Stan did in his. "I don't want pocket change. I'm after the jackpot. $50K."
Yama laughed, "You and everyone else who comes through here, wanting to be a coach instead of a seller."
Stan could understand her skepticism. Both he and Izzy had been debriefed on the specifics on the Tiny Trials. Most competitors were tinies sold by women for a one-time payment, but some took bigger risks. These women acted as coaches, paying the Pit to let their tiny compete. If their tiny could actually win all three trials, then the coach would be given a $50,000 grand prize. However, no one had ever claimed that prize, and for a good reason.
The first two trials of the night were random and changed up, but the third was always the same: Squash Match. A thirty minute matchup between one tiny man versus one regular-sized Pit fighter. Since there was no way in hell a tiny could ever win against a woman in a straight fight, the woman had to wear a ribbon somewhere on her body, and the man's goal was to find it and grab it. If they did, they'd win. Theoretically, it was a contest. In execution, it was an execution! Just thirty minutes straight of a grown woman torturing a tiny man for the entertainment of a cheering crowd. Normally the fighter who got the honor of pulverizing a tiny was the fighter who'd won the most that night. Yama, the undefeated champion of the Pit, had been the one who'd had the privilege of annihilating the most tinies in Squash Matches. It was where she got the nickname "the Squasher."
"Luckily we're not after the prize," Stan thought. "I'm just buying time for Izzy to investigate and find evidence that the Red Whale owns the Pit. Which could take... oh god."
"I know Steve doesn't look like much," Izzy was saying, oblivious to her partner's growing reservations, "but the lil guy was made for this shit! Trust me, he's been training for this since childhood, he just never knew it."
Technically speaking, given the excruciating "training" Stan's mother had given him during his childhood and how every day had just been a struggle for surviving living under the same roof as Tessa, Izzy wasn't wrong. But Yama wasn't convinced.
"I've seen a million of you, shorty. You come in convinced you got the ringer who'll finally be able to take home the gold, but by the end of the night, you go home crying cause you ended up paying us to dispose of your tiny. If by some miracle yours ends up making it through the night, you'll be lucky if I offer you a nickel for him."
"We'll see whose crying when my guy earns me the jackpot," Izzy said, expressing far more confidence than Stan felt.
Yama almost seemed impressed. "You got spirit, girl. Shame I'll have to crush it along with your lil friend. But hell, I won't try talking you out of paying me anymore. Your tiny will be kept here so we can monitor and make sure you're not doping him. You gimme $100 a week for food and shelter. Your man's required to compete every time he's chosen. If he's a fan favorite, he might be chosen more than others. Any harm or injury he may endure, blah, blah, you know the risks. Pit opens at midnight, but you're allowed to come by three hours early if you want to visit your tiny to train him or get intimate or whatever. Each visit costs you an additional $50. Admission to the Pit for the actual events is also $50."
The prospect of being kept here was something Stan didn't like, especially because the Commissioner wouldn't allow the department to implant him with a tracker. The CTC device allowed licensed owners to know where their tinies were at all time, but that same technology could be picked up by scanners and it was the first thing Yama's security had checked for before allowing the meeting.
No, if Stan went missing, his only hope of rescue came from... ugh, his partner.
"Take the money," Izzy said confidently, presenting Yama with a hundred and fifty. "You'll be giving me back $49,850 later tonight!"
Yama took the money in one and Stan in the other. "By the way, I know this goes without saying, but I really enjoy saying it anyway, you fuck with me, they'll never find your body." That dose of reality took the wind right out of Izzy's sails, which seemed to please Yama. "My girls will show you around while I get your fighter to the holding area. Enjoy your evening."
Izzy was escorted away by Yama's two guards as Yama took Stan to the pen where the "competitors" were kept.
"You know, I'll be competing tonight," Yama said casually. "Way your girl's talking, I'll be very disappointed if I don't see you in the ring, Porn Stache. Heck, maybe if I don't see you there, I may need to test you out after hours in a private Squash Match." She gave Stan a wink that chilled him to the bone.
To be continued...
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