Beauty and the Beast

A couple of first here for me. One, my first entry into the interracial Love Category, part of my plan to get a piece into as many categories as I can this year. This is also my first entry for Yay Team: Sex & Sports Story Challenge 2025 - The Stories.

I need to express thanks to 29wordsforsnow, as once again, they have saved my ass by tidying and poking me in the right place to pull this story together for release. As always, any cock-ups in here are the very last-minute changes I've made just before hitting the publish button.

Beauty & the Beast

Sienna sat looking across the table at the handsome man sitting opposite her. It wasn't just Sienna that felt that way about him, as a large swath of women felt exactly the same as they tuned in every morning to the biggest national TV breakfast show he co-hosted. At twenty-seven, Sienna Whyte could be described as the classic English rose. Standing at five foot seven with an abundance of long blonde hair, all carefully styled as it cascaded over her shoulders. Her body was almost waif-like, before tapering into a small waist with curves that gracefully flowed into a pair of attractive hips and posterior and well-proportioned slim, elegant legs. A long graceful neck held an attractive face with lips coloured like strawberries and a plumpness to match. Blue eyes shone with a brilliance that was as bright as Sienna herself.

Sat opposite her was Ralph Featherstone, with an army of female admirers, you would imagine that she would feel privileged to be his date for the night, but that was not the case. They both warranted being called celebrities, however their pathway to attain that status was from the opposite ends of the spectrum. She was effectively a celebrity the second she slid from her mother's birthing canal. He grew up in the softness of middle England, leading an average life until he finished university. After studying journalism, good DNA gave him a break as a roving reporter on a local evening news channel before the big boys swooped in knowing that his looks alone would bring in the ratings. From there, he rose through the fickle ranks of show business.

Sienna did not consider that she was the privileged one to be dining with Raph, but the dynamic reversed. He should be honoured to be dining with her, and not because of who she was, because of her values regarding a modern relationship.

Sienna was one of two children born to Edgar and Isobelle Whyte. The Whyte family were synonymous within the world of media, owning several national and regional newspapers along with a glut of well-known periodical publications.

In the present day, Sienna was also a journalist, having obtained a degree in journalism. She'd turned her back on the opportunity to just walk into the family empire but wanted to prove that she could make it off her own back, and ended up with her own column in a national newspaper plus writing several articles that were syndicated for release regionally and overseas. She never realised that people moved and shifted between companies, benefitting from her family's influence to ensure that certain individuals put her where she needed to be, just before they themselves, moved on to bigger and better things, notably within her family's business empire. Because of her upbringing, Sienna didn't fully comprehend that she rose to the top off the back of her family's influence.

She became the standard bearer for women, not caring how far she moved from writing balanced and well-thought articles. She had created a generation of young women with near impossible expectations of how a relationship should work, because her crusade was based on her own life and expectations. Women loved her, men viewed her as a rabid feminist. With the weight of her family's empire behind her, her unrealistic views on modern life remained unchecked.

Unbeknown to Sienna, Ralph had a ring in his pocket. He had mulled over the many discussions they had regarding their possible future together and he accepted that this was the way forward in modern society. He would be expected to maintain an exceptional salary to maintain Sienna in the lifestyle she was accustomed to, although he doubted very much it would make any odds due the family money that sat supporting Sienna. Despite giving off the image she was self-supporting, he was aware that she had, since the age of eighteen, been provided with a substantial monthly income to help with her 'household bills'. Ralph came from a fairly middle of the road family; he remembered his parents regaling him with tales of their parents providing financial support. It may have covered helping with a food shop, fixing the car, or helping purchase a new washing machine. Not a regular £20,000 each and every month.

As Ralph steeled his nerves to ask the question, Sienna's phone rang, looking at the screen she was surprised to see the chief editor's number as the caller ID.

"Hello, Thomas, you've never called me on a Saturday, nor a Saturday night. I'm intrigued as to why."

With a hint of urgency and desperation he replied;

"Hi Sienna, we are in a major fix and I need you to do something for us, for me to get us out of the shit. Dave Jenkins, the chief sports editor is supposed to be covering the big European heavyweight boxing match at the O2 Arena tonight, as he entered the venue, he collapsed with a heart attack. He's alive but on his way to hospital. We are under contract to send a senior reporter to the event as part of the syndicate. I'll be honest I tried a couple of the guys that I thought would love the opportunity to have a crack at this, but they can't get to the venue in time. When I spoke to Ray Peterson he said he knew you were having a night out close by tonight. Charge whatever you've had to the company, please. I'm begging, get your backside down to the O2 Arena, they're expecting you."

"Mmm so you're in a fix right, and none of the usual suspects can pick this up? I'll do it but under one proviso. Whatever I write, it's published with no more than a cursory check of the grammar."

"Look Sienna, time is almost out. I'll have one of the junior reporters watch it live on TV, he'll analyse the fight and we can merge the two repo..."

Sienna detected the desperate tone in the call, she was going to call the shots, that was, after all, what she preached in her articles. She cut across him mid-sentence.

"No, it isn't going to play out like that. I'll make a deal. Let someone write up the technical piece for the sport-heads out there, I'll write up a piece looking at the human aspect which can be part of the main article."

On the other end of the line there was a pregnant pause before Thomas sighed in resignation and answered. He did have an ace up his sleeve.

"Ok, we have a deal. There is one thing you need to be aware of Sienna, if the match plays out as forecast, Almasi will win this bout, which lines him up for a crack at the world title. He is a man of little words in public. At the end, all the reporters will be vying for the one interview he will give in private, that's the key part. I need to see your hand up so we are keenly showing we are in to play for an interview. That'll keep the legal beagles off our back with regards to contractual obligations."

That was his saving grace. Almasi had never offered himself to be interviewed by a woman. He would be safe, she could write about the fight and the sport-heads would simply pass over her section to the real analysis of the fight. He doubted many, if any, of Sienna's readership ever went anywhere near the sports section of the newspapers.

Ending the call, Ralph looked at Sienna, feeling miffed that she had failed to factor in that she was currently having dinner with him, unaware that he had a large rock sitting on a gold band inside a small box in his pocket. He was annoyed which Sienna picked up on and managed to get the first shot in.

"What? Don't give me that look, if it was you that had a call like that, you'd be off like a rocket. The world doesn't revolve around you, you know my views on relationships."

"That may be true, but I would have at least paused the phone conversation to talk to you about it, you never even looked my way!"

"This is a chance to take the views of women into the wider world. How do you think we see men that want to beat each other half to death, simply for sport? It's barbaric!"

Ralph swallowed and his voice had a serious edge to it.

"Almasi hasn't half beaten men to death, he beat three men fully to death. There are rumours his silent behaviour is only to mask the monster he is. I strongly recommend not putting your hand up for an interview, God knows what a beast like him would do to you if he had you all alone in a room!"

"Ha! You don't think I could handle myself? All women have to do is reason things out with a man, make sure he sees the true perspective. You say he killed three people, how come he's allowed to box?"

At that point Sienna's phone pinged, her car was outside. She grabbed her coat, stood up and kissed Ralph on the cheek before leaving with a parting comment. She leant into his ear and breathily whispered to him.

"I'll make it up to you, as soon as it's over I'll come to your apartment, I'll put that smile back on your face."

"No, Sienna, I need to be up at four am, look at my face, I'm sure there are more wrinkles from too many late nights like this. Can you come around tomorrow afternoon?"

Sienna sighed.

"Yes, I know you hate losing your beauty sleep. I'll be around mid-afternoon when you get home. I promise I'll wear something nice to make it up to you, and you can be extra nice with that tongue of yours for being such a sourpuss tonight."

Then she was gone, on her way to witness one of the major European sporting events of the year.

Within thirty minutes she walked towards the press section. Dressed in a Le Vestiaire Stretch Jersey and Mesh Mini Dress, both public and press alike gawped at her, men's mouths hung open and a few lecherous comments were thrown her way. It gave the appearance of a traditional LBT dress from the front or back but from the sides a thin fine mesh four-inch panel ran top to bottom, The wearer wasn't expected to don any underwear as not to ruin the lines of the dress, and Sienna had taken that step to ensure the dress looked "just right". Despite the cat calls, Sienna basked in the admiring looks from both men and women as she took her place with the other press hacks.

There were numerous double-takes as to the women in the black dress that looked more like she had stepped from a fashion shoot than were there to report on a major sporting event. Whispers passed through the press hacks as more than one recognised who she was. There were a few remarks asking if she had got lost somewhere, or the fashion show was next week in the O2 Arena and not tonight, but Sienna had weathered this kind of behaviour before. It was childish banter that press hacks loved so much.

The venue was rammed with fifteen thousand people there to watch this match. Sienna looked around. There were people from all walks of life, she recognized several people from her world, the rich and famous, who held the best seats of the house. Then behind that, rows of faces that represented the remainder of the populus. It also surprised her to see a substantial number of women here too. Surely, they didn't derive pleasure from watching two men needlessly hitting each other?

The speakers boomed out as the MC announced the arrival of the fighters, the current holder Gary Butler, a solid mass of muscle in a six-foot five-inch frame, his body was a canvas of tattoos, with blonde hair cut short into a flat top. He came to the rink shouting and goading the crowd to help heighten his adrenalin. Next up was the man who simply went by the name of Almasi. On the short drive over, Sienna had looked up the two fighters to see who they were. Almasi was Swahili meaning diamond, the quick read up she managed laid claim he earned the name, which he had legally taken, as he was as hard as a diamond. She managed to discover that he had killed someone as an amateur with a punch to the head that was so fierce it had caused brain damage; the man died. And yet here he was, prepared to possibly do the same to yet another human being, or be the if he wasn't as good as his opponent.

Unlike his opponent, he walked to the ring in a calm and confident manner, in another world he could be a man walking into an office ready to undertake a day's work producing reports and spreadsheets.

Sienna made notes on her phone, his face was emotionless, no rage or hate, simply nothing. In the ring he looked out to the crowd and, as he looked around, suddenly stopped and Sienna felt as if he was staring directly at her for a few moments. His eyes matched his skin, appearing almost black, Sienna felt as if she was looking into the eyes of a shark before it took its prey. She looked away, as she physically shuddered, but she didn't understand why. After some posturing by the current title holder, a few unheard words with the referee in the centre of the ring, the next thing was the sound of the bell, the roar of the crowd as the two men moved towards each other.

It was raw unadulterated violence. Sienna watched as they danced around each other, probing the air with little jabs or sudden changes in posture to try and trick the other man. Then the blows started, a quick flurry for a few seconds, gloves deflecting blows before looking to counterattack. Seconds before the end of the first round, Butler managed to strike a glancing blow off Almasi's head, but clearly catching his eye. In less than a second, he followed it up with a punch to his side. She watched as the solid black flesh rippled slightly under the force. Immediately, a wild frenzy filled the air as the spectators sensed a quick victory looked imminent. The bell sounded, Almasi was safe, at least until the next round.

The second round was brutal, each man traded punishing blows. Butler took a hit to his face, causing his lip to bleed, and another to his head seemed to momentarily disorientate him. It was part ruse, as Alsami moved for the next blow, Butler caught him on the same eye again. The referee stopped the match momentarily to decide if the match should go on. It did. Between the rounds, Alsami's corner worked hard to stem the blood flow from the cut, but there was a buzz in the air, it was as if the crowd sensed that Butler was gaining the upper hand.

The third round took off at a relentless pace, Sienna could see the sweat glistening on each man's skin, the determination etched on each man's face. As it neared the end of the round, something happened. It was as if a switch was flipped inside Alsami as the punches suddenly grew in power and speed. As soon as the first glove breached Butler's defences, his body reacted to the raw energy that had been released, the crowd now roaring in anticipation as blow after blow pummelled Butler. Sienna looked on, mesmerised. Alsami had complete control, all she could see was a coldness as he ruthlessly sent Butler to the floor. The referee immediately stopped the fight, as Alsami stood there as if made of stone, until he saw Butler move, still alive. He returned to his corner of the ring.

۞۞۞۞

Victorious, the referee held Almasi's arm in the air. The sound of the crowd was deafening, but the man stood there expressionless at his victory. The referee rotated Almasi through a three sixty turn for the crowd to see as thousands of camera flashes filled the stadium.

For the first time in her life Sienna had felt a surge of adrenaline when the big black man had taken advantage of his debilitated opponent. Sensing the end was near, the crowd were deafening as they goaded Almasi on to finish the job. As her heart rate slowed down, she realised her nipples were pressed tight against her dress, which she found odd. She had winced as the man battered his opponent until he dropped to the canvas like a felled giant tree, leaving him unconscious, so why... why had her body responded to something that she had felt was so abhorrent?

People came and went into the ring; he was presented with the belt signifying he was now the European Heavyweight champion which he held triumphantly above his head as he was crowned king of the ring. A few minutes later he moved over to the ropes as a sea of hands went up from the press. Sienna raised her hand, but unlike the others who almost bounced around in desperation, she didn't, he wasn't going to pick out the one person who was clearly out of place here. Suddenly there were gasps from assembled reporters.

His finger was clearly pointing at Sienna.

Within seconds he was out of the ring heading back towards his dressing room as security personnel ushered Sienna out then almost frogmarched her off towards the direction he had strode off in. Other than the moment he had looked at her and pointed, there was no further contact.

When she reached his dressing room door, his manager put his hand on her arm, turning her upper torso towards him, and Sienna was not amused at being manhandled like this.

"Honey, I haven't a clue why he picked you to do this but this is what happens. You go in, sit down and ask him questions about the fight. He'll answer them until he's had enough, when you ask him a question and he fails to answer, that's your cue to leave. Do you understand? Don't push the man when he's had enough otherwise, you'll find yourself on your ass when he tosses you out!"

Sienna nodded at this stark set of instructions, a security guard opened the door and she was literally thrust into the room before the door closed behind her.

۞۞۞۞

She looked at him, a tall, black mass of a man, his skin covered in a sheen of perspiration as he towered over her, one eye semi-closed but the other still expressionless as he looked, in fact Sienna felt, glared at her. He raised his arms holding his hands in front of Sienna. When he spoke his voice was deep, but it was the tone. She was expecting a macho arrogant tone, instead it was calm and... polite.

"Would you mind helping me with these please?"

Undoing the gloves, she was shocked at the weight of them and the size of his hands, they were enormous. Her hands looked like doll hands in comparison. Once removed he said thank you and then... just stood there.

Despite there being chairs he didn't sit, nor indicated to Sienna she should sit, so she stood a mere couple of feet away from the towering giant. She suddenly became conscious of her clothes, or lack of them. As well as the dress that bordered on the scandalous, she had topped off the look by wearing a pair of Christopher Esper sheer knee-high boots, again black mesh material to show more flesh. The boots were a gift, they would not officially be released until later in the year, but the publicity from the right legs being held by these boots was invaluable. And right now, this towering hulk of a man appraised her. Her first thoughts were; is this how he must behave when he must surely have an escort delivered to him to sate his needs? The thought made her dislike for him ramp up another notch. With that, she wanted to view him, and oddly, he reminded her of a purebred racehorse, the sheen of perspiration on his black skin, the small beads of sweat on his bald head and chest. His left eye was partially closed with a cut above it, the result of the two strikes, the last one, for a few seconds, looked as if he would go down. She noted that without his gum shields he lost the neolithic look that she felt both men wore in the ring; it added to the primitive exposition she had just watched unfold.

His eyes looked into hers. It unnerved her. He was as expressionless as the moment he had first seen her. She went to ask a question but he spoke first. She was expecting some derogatory or degrading request.

"Why are you here, Sienna? You are one of the very last people I would expect to see here. Doesn't what you've just witnessed go against your beliefs on how men and women should co-exist?"

This caught Sienna off guard, she had an ID badge with her name, but how would a beast like this man know or understand her values?

"I'm not here by choice. Dave Jenkins had a heart attack. However, I'm extremely honoured you've given me this opportunity to interview you."

Sienna jumped straight in; her plan was to hit hard with her line of questioning.

"Why did you kill two men, what drove you to do it?"

Appearing calm, Sienna was trying hard to conceal her fear, and again, her nipples pushed back against the taut fabric of the dress which made her feel very uncomfortable.

"I killed the two men because of some pennies we owed."

Sienna looked at him, appalled at his confession.

"Why? You took their lives over something as worthless as a few coins. How can they justify letting you into a boxing ring?"

He stood, his impassive eyes bored into hers.

"Because they came to make a slave of my sister over a very small family debt. I was not going to let my sister enter into a life of certain sexual servitude because we owed pennies for some livestock. I was just a boy to them; big and strong, and took the first one by surprise. I hit him so hard, the angle his head was at broke his neck. As his friend lifted his gun I punched him dead centre in his face, as he fell backwards, he fractured his skull, and died. Our family ran, that is how we came to this country, as refugees."

Sienna stood, reeling from the fact a young woman's life could be traded for something she considered pocket change.

She could see that it may not have been morally right, but she felt it was justified to save his sister. This wasn't what she expected to hear, and dug deeper, looking for an opening she could then pick away at.

"But you killed another man, there was no-one to save that time. Why? Why kill another man?"

He stood silent for a while, his eyes left hers, looking over her, as if focusing on some long-lost thought.

"I talk to him every night before I go to sleep, I ask his forgiveness for taking his life. He did nothing that he deserved to die for, it's an unfortunate risk we take when we enter the ring. He knew that, I knew that."

She felt his mind had drifted away, he stood almost in a trance like state, a subtle drop of his shoulders made her wonder if he was re-playing those tragic moments. Just like that, he straightened up, fully focusing his gaze on Sienna. He lifted a hand; the index finger pointed straight at Sienna's chest.

"I have a question for you, Sienna? Do you know how harmful some of your articles are? You are one of the new breed of people using media to make the world an unpleasant place to live."

The sudden topical shift caught her by surprise. Sienna took in a deep breath, her eyes hardened before she reached up and slapped him, nobody had ever spoken to her like this.

"How dare you, how fucking dare you say that! I'm making the world a better place, I'm a voice for women of the world where men expect us to serve, bow before their presence!"

She stepped back, breathing hard as her chest rose and fell, realising she had struck a man that could hit her hard enough to send her into next week. Afraid, she stepped back, but there was no change whatsoever in his demeanour before he spoke again.

"Your article, published last year. What should a woman expect in a marriage'. You filled everyday women with seeds which will grow, until some see their husbands as abject failures, and they will discard them because they failed to meet the expectations set by a young woman detached from the real world."

Instead of her anger abating, it was rising, she stepped forward and slapped him across the face again, and still, he failed to react in any way as he continued unabated.

"My cousin, Moses, works hard, six days a week to make a future for him and his wife, and it's a real slog. Self-employed, he sells and fits motor car tyres, living on tight margins and those long hard days of graft. But you. You, Sienna Whyte published an article telling women that if a man isn't earning at least sixty thousand a year by age of thirty to jettison him, he's a no-hoper. Impressionable young women look up to you, think you sprout the truth, think what you say must be right, and therefore that seed is growing that if he doesn't measure up, he's gone, a failure to be abandoned as a lost cause."

"But she doesn't have to abandon him, she ca..."

"NO! On more than one occasion when things are frayed, she has quoted your article at him, how he doesn't spend enough time with her, how he's never around, how he isn't going to measure up... measure up to the ideals you are pushing as a woman's right!"

For the first time, she could see the flames of anger in his eyes, his voice taut with displeasure. They glared at each other for several moments, then Sienna tried to diffuse the moment. Stepping forward she reached up, her delicate hand touching the flesh around his eye which had shades of blue and yellow hues in the swollen flesh.

"Does it hurt, those blows to your face and body, when you are out there in the ring?"

Where she moved closer to him, two fragrances mixed from opposite ends of the spectrum. The flowery essence of her Bond no 9, her go-to perfume at eight thousand pounds a bottle mixed in with the smell of a man fuelled by raging testosterone. The heady mixture of chemicals caused them to react in a similar way, deeply rooted emotions formed a millennia ago, pricked at nerve endings in their minds and bodies, they were both aware of these minor stirrings. Stirrings known as arousal. It made her feel uncomfortable so her mind chose offence as the best form of defence. It wasn't angry, but her words were filled with disdain.

"You're just an untamed beast, only able to hurt. You have no respect, don't know love. No woman would want you except for your wealth!"

Her eyes sparkled brightly, they simply stared at each other inches apart. His lips moved, the corners creating a slight curl of a smile.

"I love giving my money to women."

"Huh, just another pig that thinks he can buy a woman for his own selfish pleasure, you sicken me!"

"So anonymously giving most of my earnings to countless charities, especially those around the world where women do suffer doesn't count then? Or helping children who only know work, with no education or future beyond what they already know, those that have nothing to eat or drink, barely scraping by? How much of your wealth do you share?"

He stepped closer, his head bowed towards her, and she looked up. The fire she felt in his black eyes was gone, the iris was actually a brown, almost gold in colour, it reminded her of the earth.

"Are you married, Sienna?"

"No."

"Engaged to be married?"

"No, but I'm expecti.. "

"Then the man's a fool! Women are the eighth wonder of the world; all women have some form of beauty to be admired and cherished. Old, young, large, small, every woman has some beauty bestowed to her by God. You, Sienna, God bestowed you with a beautiful outside, but your inside is... something else. Let me show you, you can change, be a better person."

His large hands came up and delicately held her head on either side. Leaning down his lips gently kissed her before pulling back. His lips were swollen in places and hard where he had been struck, but there were sections that were soft too. A part of Sienna wanted to pull away, he was a beast of a man, and yet a part of her was excited that a modern-day real-life gladiator was so close, she could feel the heat, smell the sweat created by the exertion of the fight, a fight he had won. And in centuries gone by, he would have claimed a mortal prize.

He pulled away a few inches, their eyes locked on each other. This time, Sienna lifted her head slightly and kissed him back. Her soft succulent lips parted further and her tongue gently probed, the tip brushing the underside of his fat swollen top lip before serpentinely sliding into his mouth as his own wet tongue touched and teased hers. They kissed for a moment, Sienna's brain frantically trying to process this crazy situation as her heart beat hard and her mind buzzed. In the end, she pulled away, panting quietly. She spoke barely above a whisper.

"I shouldn't be doing this, I have a boyfriend."

"Maybe, but you have each failed to commit fully to each other yet, which is why I asked for your status as I will not interfere with those who have taken steps to cement their relationship once engaged. You can stop, Sienna, you can stop right now and walk out of the door."

His eyes looked deeply into her eyes, both full of sexual luminance. The smell, the concoction of natural and man-made chemicals wormed deeper into sections of their brains to make them respond.

"You're just an untamed bastard of a beast, Almasi, you don't deserve to have a woman like me!"

The way in which the words were delivered were polar in meaning to the content, both her arms had moved so her hands were firmly planted on his hot sweaty chest. It felt to Sienna that those very drops were infiltrating her skin, poisoning her reasoning, clouding her true thoughts, or at least, so she thought. He lowered his face so their lips met again, she took his lower lip between her teeth for a moment and chewed lightly on the battered skin. He accepted it for a while then moved so his lips pressed against hers, his tongue snaking into her mouth as their saliva passed between them.

As they kissed, his hands moved to her sides then slid down the fine material that created a sheer barrier between them. Reaching the flared part of her hips, they slowly glided back up her sides, fingertips barely applying pressure. His giant hands meant that his fingers almost touched those of the other hand as he moved. As he reached the top of the dress, he found the zip, and slowly slid it downwards, Sienna felt as if she could hear every tooth of the zip gliding through the puller as he brought it down her back.

His breathing remained constant throughout, whereas Sienna's had turned into shorter sharp draws of air, her skin began to prickle and perspire due to the heat radiating from him and her physical reaction to his touch. She could feel her heart beating, pounding in her chest as she tried to evaluate how this sat within her own mantra.

She would let this continue, at least for the time being. She would wait until the inner beast shone through, this had to be a ruse, a clever ruse he must use on women to make them feel like she did before he reverted to form, an untamed being. At that point she would call a stop to the charade, leave him high and dry so to speak, show him that ultimately, women hold all of the power. For the moment though, the desire was to let this man continue to imbrue her body and mind with his hands and lips.

With the dress undone, his fingers gently encroached inside the material, he could feel the warmth of her porcelain skin as his fingertips gently caressed her taut body. He allowed his hands to gently glide slowly up her back, ensuring it was the merest hint of pressure being applied to her skin. The further his hands roamed upwards, the closer her body moved towards his as the air trapped between their bodies grew warmer.

Once his hands reached her shoulders, fingers pushed the dress from them, it started to fall from her body. As it reached her hips, the weight and gravity caused it to pool at her feet. Because of the net sides, it wasn't designed to wear with underwear, so she stood in no more than her boots as his strong hands sat atop her hips as he gently pulled her body in tight. Her own hands shifted from his chest to his shoulders, feeling his muscular physique as she did so. She also felt something else press against her.

Her heart was pounding as their lips remained mashed together and their tongues rolled around as they continued exploring each other's mouths. His eyes remained open but hers were closed, he noticed that she was pulling in air hard through her nose and he could feel her heart thumping in her chest. He felt an urgency, an urgency that was stirring in his shorts to show this woman that moments like this should be shared as equals, not as a one-sided affair designed to gratify only one. His cock had grown and was pressing against her stomach. There was also a new odour that tainted the heady mixture that they were both intoxicated by, it was familiar to him, but he also knew exactly what it was, and he would not succumb to the scent of an aroused woman, the woman who he held in his arms.

Suddenly, his hands gripped her hips and lifted her body in the air. All she could do was squeal, as he lifted her high enough to sit her on his now tilted face. Fearful of falling, her legs locked around the top of his back as her hands frantically clawed at his. He gripped each one, moving them away from their bodies to help provide balance.

Then she felt it, his thick tongue slide through her slick folds, already hot from the rising tension. Her tunnel flexed and pulsed as his oral assault continued, unaware she was rocking back and forth on his face as his nose ground into her inflamed clitoris, further inflating the lustful fire that had taken hold inside.

"You filthy animal, abusing me for your own pleasure, I'll have your hide for this!"

As angry as her words sounded, their delivery was something else. Instead of a hiss of hatred, they were more of a sexual moan as the thick appendage lapped harder, each stroke delving deeper.

"Fucking ugh, ugh, pig, I despise ugh, ugh, you... you thi... ugh, think you can just take... ugh, what you want?"

After a while Sienna looked down. Her hands gripped his, she wasn't just balancing herself, she was using the support to rock and grind her body, her heels digging into his back looking for further purchase. At some point, he had just kept his tongue rigid, and she was simply riding him for her own pleasure. Realising this, her core tightened as a monumental release of sexual energy surged through her, her thighs reverberated and her heels dug into his back.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck!"

The sloppy sound of gushing fluid joined her cry of ecstasy, his tongue now back to running through her folds as her body bucked, and yet he never flinched or moved despite her wild bucking as she sat perched on his face. As she slowed, his tongue slid back into his mouth, butterfly kisses on her slit and clitoris poked and prodded at the feeling of being sexually charged like a cattle prod. As he slowed, he pulled his hands away, she clung onto his bare head as his hands circled her waist. Her legs went limp as he lowered her body down until she was almost standing on the floor. Suddenly he threw her up in the air, his hands releasing her as she frantically put her arms around his neck accompanied by a sharp intake of air. As her body dropped down, his lightning-fast reflexes let his meaty hands grab her by her backside cheeks, each creamy side of her derriere fitted his hands as if made to be there. He gently lifted her upwards, and as he did, her slender legs wrapped around his body as she locked her legs together by crossing her feet. Her lips locked onto his, the stink of his sweat and her arousal overpowered the perfume. He remained silent, guttural noises reverberated through her throat in a way that horrified her. Finally, she broke away, unable to draw in enough air through her nose and panted to pull even more air into her lungs. In between the pants she managed to speak.

"What gave you the right to do that, you're just a fucking wild untamed animal. Who the fuck do you think you are!"

Looking into her eyes, he responded in a calm and measured way.

"Revealing the real me, not the person that lives on the canvas hemmed in by roped walls."

He walked a few feet to a sofa in the dressing room; she remained like a limpet with her arms and legs wrapped around him keeping her in place. Putting a hand on the sofa back he managed to lean down and gently drop her onto it before standing back up. Reaching down to each leg, he slowly removed each boot until she lay there naked as the day she was born, letting out a quiet moan as the last boot hit the floor. By now his damaged eye was almost covered by the swollen flesh as the medication used in the ring had started to wear off, he had the onset of a headache, but he would power through it, especially with a creature as delectable as this awaited his attention. Fame had brought many women to his bed, some looking at him as a trophy fuck, others hoping to snag him as a man to bring them a lifestyle they desired, and others, others that wanted to find out if his body and its parts were in proportion. But this woman was none of those, if anything, the words that supposedly represented who she was, laid bare with crystal clarity in the articles published, hated him and what she felt he was. He wanted to prove that the beast in the room was, in fact, not him.

Aware that she was naked, she recognised the taint in the air that was her own arousal, not that she didn't know it. Her heart was pounding hard, harder than the day she gave her virginity away at college, harder than the day she made out with her roommate in university when she explored another woman's body for the first time, and far, far harder than anytime with Ralph Featherstone. But she was on her guard, he would change, it couldn't be long before she would stop him, emasculate him from what she was sure he felt that she would be his to plunder as he pleased.

Instead, he dropped to his knees, beside the sofa, gently lifting a leg with his hands letting them roll back and forth around the contours of her calves and ankles, he looked at her dainty feet with the carefully manicured and painted nails. He opened his mouth and took her toes in his mouth, sucking them, running his tongue across the sole of her feet. Her eyes closed and she groaned, looking up her body he could see her shaven slit glistening with her own dew and his saliva that had made her outer lips wet, now puffy and a pinky-red from the blood that was pumping around her body. Her nipples sat hard on the fleshy mounds as her own hands reached up and pinched them slowly, her eyes closed and her mouth opened in an O as low moans and whimpers were barely audible as her shallow breathing betrayed her inner craving.

Alternating between each leg, his pliable lips started a slow trail of kissing around each foot, a few kisses to each before shifting to the other. It was a slow lazy ramble he was taking, but the effect was startling. Spikes of immense pleasure coursed through her toes, legs, through her vagina before surging into her brain. The epicentre always the point his lips or tongue brushed over, stimulating her like she'd never been done before. She was convinced that her entire body had turned into one giant erogenous zone.

He skilfully wandered across the landscape of her body, the slight variance, changes in pressure he applied made her squirm and whimper. Navigating past the juncture between her legs, he was amused that she'd tried to move her torso into the path of his mouth. He carried on, steady and relentless, ignoring her unspoken wish. The path he was taking was somewhere else which took his lips through the valley of flesh between the two mounds on her chest that now heaved heavily along with the deep, mindful breathing of arousal. She could barely moan.

"Pleeease...."

Her eyes were closed, an arm draped to the side of the sofa, she hadn't even noticed he had slowly shuffled on his knees beside her as he made his way up her body. At the point he hit her midriff, the other hand reached out to hold his chin, fingers gently kneading his cheek. When his mouth reached the base of her neck, her eyes sprang open as his tongue took slow drags up to her chin, as if he was licking an ice cream cone. Her whole body shivered due to the erotic nature of it all, as his mouth came to rest over an ear lobe, his fat lips engulfing it as teeth gently chewed on her flesh.

"Oh fuck... Don't stop!"

The words slipped from her lips, drunk on the euphoria of the arousal as a part of her brain was trying to scream at her to hate it, the other side felt like a woman getting her first fix of a narcotic substance. The hand resting beside him moved towards his shorts, searching out to see how much of a man he physically was. Before she reached there, she felt his hand slowly grasp her wrist, even that was a delicate and erotic sensation, and prevented her from reaching her target.

He stopped, and moved away from her as her other hand fell from his body. He said no more, and walked away towards the bathroom.

She watched him walk away; no haste, no slouching, just walk away as if it was a normal day and without so much as a cursory glance her way. She sat up on the sofa as her brain began to put coherent thoughts together, trying to push aside the primal feelings that he had managed to evoke and bring to the surface. As she sat there, she realised that he had taken liberties with her, without her permission, which made it a sexual assault.

And there it was, exactly what she'd expected from him. He was a beast, a sexual predator, and she had just exposed him. She wanted him to open up, she felt that his guard was down and she could now manipulate the rest of the interview so that he would become reckless and provide further ammunition to use in the article she planned to write about him. She sat thinking for a few moments... she may need to see how far he would push things along, she could handle it, put him down if he tried to go further than he had already gone. Admonishing herself for reacting to his touch, she convinced herself she could wrestle control of the situation from him.

Walking towards the room she heard the sound of water splashing. Stepping inside, it wasn't just a bathroom, it was a full wet room with a small tiled heated pool around twenty-five by ten feet, plus a large open shower area creating a wet room. At the top of the steps were his discarded shorts, the beast himself lurked in the water at the opposite end, his one open eye looking at her, his face... his face looked neutral once again. She felt he had been doing nothing more but prime her to this point, to step into the pool would be like stepping into a swamp with an alligator. She cleared her throat, then spoke.

"In the fight, there was a point where it looked like he was going to beat you, the crowd sensed it too. I watched you, somehow you changed your facial expression... it was dark, brooding... before you clinically finished him off."

"Come into the water, and I'll tell you."

His voice was low; in fact she barely heard him. She walked cautiously down the tiled steps into the pool, but stayed at the opposite end to him.

As she stood, she watched as the ripples she had created receded. He spoke, his voice devoid of any emotion.

"I just think of the moment that they tried to take my sister. I picture whoever in the ring with me is there for that purpose, to take my sister away. That's all I need to do to find every molecule of strength to beat an opponent."

Sienna thought for a moment.

"Is that how you run your life? Recycling thoughts and emotions to suit the circumstances?"

Suddenly, he disappeared under the water. Like a shark, Sierra watched as the black shape moved towards her, before emerging from below the surface then started to climb the steps from the pool next to her. As he did, her eyes dropped, to determine how well he was built. She swallowed. He was proportioned to match the remainder of his large powerful body. Visibly, she wore a mask of disgust. The mask was a veil that covered the awe at seeing a male body at the peak of physical development in all of its naked glory. She had spent her time with some fine male specimens, but he was exceptional. There was, however, a big problem, or more appropriately, a problem that was not as hard as she had anticipated. What hung between his legs should be hard as steel, she was considered a prize that was out of reach to any mortal and yet this beast, despite having a size that would put most men to shame, was clearly un-aroused by the sight of her body. It made her feel angry as he stood on the steps, his flaccid member level with her eyes, and within easy reach.

"To answer your question, no, I only pull that memory up when I need to. I am not proud I killed those men, Sierra, but I cannot undo the past."

She barely heard the words; her mind was on a different path.

"Do you not find me attractive?"

He let out a small laugh.

"Your exterior? You are a beautiful woman, Sienna, one of the most beautiful I have encountered. But beyond the sensuous skin? No, there is nothing I can see that I find attractive. True beauty is not just skin deep."

He started to walk up the steps. As he did, the water splashed loudly as she started to climb out of the pool too, grabbing his wrist as he started to walk away. On the slippery tiled surface, he simply started to drag her with him.

Angrily, she shouted at him.

"God damn you, stop!"

He stopped, taking her wrist, he carefully removed her hand from his arm and turned towards her. Before he had fully turned, she jumped at him leaving him two choices. Let her fall to the unforgiving tiled floor or grab her. As soon as their bodies collided, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his back as her mouth crashed into his, her tongue thrusting past his swollen lips. She felt his huge hands reach under her arse cheeks and support her. She was shocked when he walked across to the tiled wall, pushing her back up against the cold surface making her shiver. He responded to her kiss, she could feel it, the beast below the surface coming to life, tempted by her body. His hands kneading her arse cheeks only amplified that thought, the air passing quickly back and forth through his nostrils told her he was just another weak-willed man when it came to a hot woman supposedly offering herself to him.

The kissing was intense, her insides felt like mush, the heat between their bodies ramping up the need to feel him, show him he needed her body. Taking an arm from his neck, she slipped it down between them, and there it was. Standing proud and upright, her beauty had won, the flesh felt like a hard and hot bat. Moving her fingers, the oily sheen dribbling from the eye made her heart flutter more. She was ready to take this monster, show him that she could, and would, take charge the moment she had this inside her. He broke the kiss, his nose touching hers.

"Give it to me, you know you want to, admit it, the desire to fill me is overwhelming your dislike of me. Don't worry, the feeling is mutual, but my opening is there for you to plunder, and I'm helpless to stop you."

He chuckled.

"Is that so, Sienna? OK, here we go."

There was a sharp intake of breath, her stomach felt like it flipped over at the thought of being filled with the fleshy pole. He shifted her, causing another sharp intake of breath as she felt the head slide through her slick folds, the bulbous head mashing over her clitoris that felt like it was on fire with lust. Slowly back and forth, he let the head of his cock push her lips apart as he glided up and down, not in and out, of the hot and wet tunnel that he knew she wanted plugged.

It wasn't long before she started to shift her body, trying to impale herself on him. All he did was keep her at a height to thwart every attempt. The kissing became wilder, she clamped his lower lip between her teeth and looked into his open eye, willing him to do it. Biting into his lip to draw blood, he didn't wince, didn't react. She released his lip, whining like a puppy denied a toy.

Turning away from the wall, his arms started to move, she tried to remain attached to him like a limpet, but he easily pried her away and stood her up.

Looking down, it was the biggest real-life cock she had ever seen as it stood upright between them. The big mushroom head wet with her own juices, it made her pussy throb with a need to feel it inside her. She knew what to do and dropped to her knees, her hands immediately gripping the piece of flesh she felt she so desperately needed. She was completely in awe, her fingers could not completely encircle it, she wondered if she could honestly take it in any orifice.

He looked down at her, as her head moved forwards, staring up at him as her tongue snaked from her mouth to touch just below his crown, flicking back and forth like a snake. His expression never changed, she wanted to see a reaction, prove that he would reveal the primal needs that must lurk within. After several minutes of running her tongue around his crown, her hand came up to roll his large balls through her hand. Looking back into his face, he could see the determination in her eyes as her mouth opened, the head brushing past her teeth as her jaw went achingly wide to accommodate him.

Considering herself skilled at this act, and knowing how it was almost seen as an 'extra' by men, she would give him enough to make him putty in her hand. Swirling her tongue around the head for a few minutes, letting it slip from her mouth before slurping the head back in. She withdrew and took a deep breath, he knew what was coming. Just as the very tip slipped into her mouth, she suddenly felt his hands gripping her head, preventing her from cramming as much of his cock as possible into her mouth. He pulled back, her eyes looked up at him bewildered and shocked.

"I want this, I want you."

"No, Sienna, I don't want it. As I told you, as a whole, you are not attractive to me, so, no, this will go no further. Please, dress yourself, the interview is over."

"No! You cannot deny me... I want this opportunity, I want to feel used by you, I know you want my body too, I want to leave here with a deep satisfied feeling in my belly, I wan..."

He cut her off.

"You can want from here until the end of eternity, Sienna. I have been kind to you, shown you that the world doesn't revolve around reciprocal actions, not everything is a world of trade, especially one where you think you have some special commodity. You do have a special commodity, Sienna, you can reach out to women, help them understand and play a part in the world we live in. Instead, you fill them with your own poisonous views of womanhood. You are no better than the men that came to take my sister, you are dooming many young people to untold hardship and misery with your preachings. You have plenty of material for your piece to write, this interview is over. Find your things and go, I do not want to be forced to open the door and ask security to remove you when you are naked."

With that he stepped away, took a towel and walked into the shower leaving her on the floor. She sat in utter disbelief. Nobody, but nobody had ever turned her down, for anything, and yet this beast that has killed men had the audacity to lecture her. Brimming with anger and rejection, she dressed, and stormed from the suite ignoring anyone that spoke to her. Outside, the press were waiting for her, all she heard were his words reverberating around her mind as her car took her away and back to her apartment.

Time was short to make the deadline, she had started to write up her report on the tablet on the journey home, once inside, she read it again as she sat in bed. She knew that the coverage from the fight would be sitting waiting for her submission to be added.

۞۞۞۞

'This piece was supposed to be about the big fight between Almasi and Butler. Yes, I can hear you; why the hell was I, a spoiled rich girl, reporting on such a prestigious sports event. David Jenkins, the respected commentator, had a heart attack (I understand he is doing well in hospital, get well soon Dave) so I attended in his place as there is a contract that dictates the need for a senior reporter to cover the fight. I fulfilled that obligation, I stress, under duress. Further down this report, Barry Witham, a junior reporter, has written an honest account of the fight that you loyal sport's readers would expect. As for me... I watched two barbarians slug it out, doing all they could to hurt each other. One had already killed a man, legally, in another boxing match plus another two men many years ago. I will say no more at this point, although I do have plenty to say about my interview with Almasi. I need to be deeply analytical regarding our interaction, and the short space before publishing would not do that interview justice. Once I decompress, research and analyse the information, I'll disseminate the facts through my daily column. Watch this space.'

Pushing enter, it sent the story through the ether of copper and fibre cables that connect our world, making its way to the editors. This was just a small part of the story she had to tell.

۞۞۞۞

At nine thirty in the morning, she strolled into the TV studio. Without hesitation, she passed through security, they knew exactly who she was and why she was there. She never knocked as she quietly opened the door to Ralph's dressing room. He was sitting with his back to her on a sofa, watching an extract from his breakfast show. Sitting up close next to him was Tamara, his young co-host. As she walked behind them, she noticed her hand resting on his thigh; not in a manner that suggested an attempt at seduction, but of familiarity, like a couple taking those baby-like steps towards a relationship.

"Hello Ralph."

Her hand recoiled from his thigh as if it had suddenly burst into flames as Ralph's head whipped around to stare open-mouthed at Sienna. Tamara jumped up, excused herself before making a hasty retreat without so much as dare glance towards Sienna.

"Oh... err hi Baby, what brings you here, it's not very often tha... "

His words tapered off, her expression had him on the back foot, whatever was behind the façade was something he had never seen before. With that she spoke, he was expecting angry instead it was just... sincere.

"What do you love about me, Ralph?"

"Oh, well you're just beautiful, Baby. That's a strange thing to ask."

"How deep does that beauty go, Ralph?"

He smiled.

"All the way to your very heart and beyond."

She stood thinking for a few seconds as he looked at her, perplexed by the bizarre topic of conversation.

"Can you give me an example to show my inner beauty?"

"Of course I can, I mean, look at this Rolex. That's you showing your love... or the two weeks on your dad's yacht sailing carefree around the Mediterranean, doing whatever we wanted, eating in the best restaurants, going to the most exclusive clubs that you got us into."

Her voice was softer now.

"I thought so."

Her head dropped as she steeled herself for what she was about to say.

"You're a pretty boy, Ralph, you'll never want or need to chase for female company. But real love. I hope you find it one day. It's time to be honest, Ralph. We are drawn together simply because we sit on top of certain piles. You're pretty, I'm extremely rich. That's the reality of our attraction to each other, and I realise that's not going to be enough to see us through the rest of our lives. I wish you well, Ralph, this is goodbye."

Ralph's mouth hung open trying to process the words that his ears had heard. He tried to fight back.

"Sienna, what you just saw... it was nothing, we are work colleagues that's all. You said it yourself; I'm top of the pile. I won't deny that she's attractive, other than one kiss, I turned her down. I'm being honest, all I want is you."

She lent down, and kissed his cheek.

"No, Ralph, it's what I am, you want, not who I am. Have a great life, I mean that with all sincerity."

Sienna walked away, as she opened the door, he shouted out.

"You fucked him, didn't you? You lying, cheating bitch, always taking whatever you want, not caring who or what you step on to get it."

Sienna stopped, turned and looked at him.

"Truthfully, I didn't but it wasn't all innocence. I offered myself to him... and he turned me down. Me. He. Turned. Me. Down. Somehow, I no longer feel as attractive as I thought I was, and I have been asking questions of myself. Like I said, I wish you well, I genuinely hope you have your moment, just like I've had mine."

Then she was gone, out of the building and out of his life. Driving to her next destination, she felt a twinge of sadness, but no more than that.

۞۞۞۞

It felt as if she'd come from another planet. In reality, Sienna's life and upbringing to that point in time made it actually feel like it was another planet. Noise, dirt and grime were everywhere. She wondered if she should use the old sci-fi movie cliche; 'I come in peace.' And that was the truth, she was here in an attempt to undo the harm she had already caused.

Pulling up on the garage forecourt, two men came out in overalls to look at the top-of-the range Range Rover, both seemed impressed, until Sienna stepped from her car. One of the men's faces changed into a scowl. Swallowing and ready to face a possible onslaught, Sienna moved towards them.

"Hi, welcome to Moses's House of Wheels, I'm Moses, how can I be of service."

There was nothing pleasant in the tone of his voice, if anything it was full of sarcasm. The man standing next to Moses had never heard him speak to a potential customer like it, especially a fit looking white woman that reeked of money. He turned to call Moses out, but he got in first.

"Del, this is the troll that's trying to put you outta a job. The one that harps on about how a husband has to pull in big, otherwise he should be thrown out like trash. This is the Sienna Whyte, aka The Bitch to us boys. She's putting those stupid ideas in Aya's head that unless we upgrade our life overnight, she'll look at trading up on her own and take a slice of the business when she does."

Del huffed as he looked at Sienna, now with a scowl that mirrored his boss's and spoke in a low one, knowing she could hear him.

"Fuckin' rich white trash bitch."

As much as she wanted to walk away, there was a part inside that wanted to see them crushed for their attitude. No, she scolded that part of her, she was determined to become a better person.

"Moses, your wife, Aya, can I meet her... sorry, not just her but the two of you?"

He stood for a moment, pondering her request. He watched her, there was a nervous fidget that he felt didn't belong to the person that the media so frequently showed. He knew she'd done the interview with his cousin, maybe something had happened to open her eyes.

"Del, keep us rolling along here, I'm taking her home to meet Aya."

He then spoke to Sienna.

"One word bad-mouthin' me or men in general and I'll toss your ass to the curb!"

Other than directions, there was no conversation. The car pulled up the drive of a small, modern property. When they stopped, he spoke, looking out through the windscreen at his home.

"May look like a hovel to you, but this is my castle, my sweat and my Aya's love made it so. Don't you dare dis' us because we ain't like you."

She nodded and they left the car.

Aya opened the door, with no clue as to who had parked in their space. Her eyes went wide with shock when she realised who the woman standing with her husband was. The shock continued when Sienna walked up to her, hugged her before pulling back.

"I owe you, and thousands of women like you, a heartfelt apology. I got it wrong, and now I want to set the wheels in motion to put it right. I have an idea, and I'd like your help."

An hour turned into two, Moses's demeanour softened, skipping over the X-rated material from the interview, Sienna explained how Almasi had opened her eyes, and mind, that she lived in a world that was removed from the reality that ordinary people faced. They spoke about the difficulties they faced in making their way in life, Aya admitted that Sienna's articles continually made her question if her own life should be better.

Sitting in their home Sienna could now comprehend how her words could seep like cancer into a relationship. She had got it all so badly wrong. They portrayed the fears of people like them, borne out of the spiralling cost of properties, exorbitant rents for the scant offerings along with wages that seemed to lack further behind the spiralling cost. Sienna sat listening, mentally tracking every statement, and they would provide the nourishment for her plan.

"I came here with an idea, and I now know it's the absolute right way to go. I would like your help to write a special piece for my column. It won't be aimed at women; it'll be aimed at couples like you. I want to explore fashion, culture... but all within realistic, real-world achievable cost.

They sat looking at Sienna for a moment, gobsmacked by her request. Moses spoke, it was an off the cuff remark, but Sienna latched straight onto it.

"Something like Wheels 'n Heels? "

Sienna laughed, and they joined her.

"Moses, the paper will love that! I'll help you but go talk to your friends, find material for the first couple of articles. I want to shift my column away from the current pattern; one week will be Fashion and Passion, aimed at the women that follow my column, and it'll cater for the widest spectrum out there. The following week, Wheels 'n Heels. If it works, then we'll find the momentum to keep it going.

۞۞۞۞

Two days later, her article ran derived from her interview with Alsami. Thomas, the editor-in-chief asked to see her in person, he wanted to confirm, including an email with the content sent to him personally, that it was an article written by her, not by someone that had hacked into her account and written it to crash her family. As much as Thomas wanted to run it past the great Mr. Whyte himself, this would be his crowning glory for years to come.

The following morning, Sienna walked from her apartment, picking up a copy of the paper as she headed to the local coffee house before finding a corner to read the article in peace.

'Due to a misfortune that befell a colleague, I suddenly found myself in the O2 Arena, given a job that I did not want, reporting on the fight between Gary Butler and the man, dare I say it, beast, called Alsami. Sitting in that testosterone-fuelled world was something I despised with a passion. What was the point? Two grown men slogging it out like two schoolboys in a playground. If they were schoolboys, the adults would be tearing them apart, punishing them for their act of violence. But here? The crowd worshipped them like gods.

I watched as they set about pummelling each other, but there was a difference in them, before they even set foot in the ring. Butler exalted in their passion, lived for the crowd's energy which he sucked up like a vacuum picking up dirt. But Alsami? There was nothing that signified he felt he was a deity to be worshipped. He acted as if he was here to work; do a job in the same way the people on the turnstiles, working the bars and food stalls did theirs. He was here to do a job, and do his darndest to be the best.

I will not cover the fight, you need to hop back a couple days and read the report in the Sports section of the paper. As the fight ground on, I suddenly found I was caught up in what would have been a life-or-death struggle had it been a gladiator fighting for his right to be free or two cavemen fighting over a mate. And there it was. Buried in the depths of my brain, covered by centuries of the human race learning to become civil, hid the concept of natural selection, laid bare in Darwin's theory of evolution. When the crowd sensed that a potential end was near, my heart beat faster, and my fist clenched. But that was not all. My body reacted, like only a woman's body can react. Embarrassingly, at the time, it made my nipples harden and my underwear dampen.

Why? Why did a woman so passionate about equality, in fact try to tip the balance of power towards women, react this way? At that moment I felt disgusted with myself, but I could not completely shake the question. Why?

Like a beast, Alsami finally took Butler apart in mere seconds. I know his secret, he shared it with me, and that is his story to tell as to why, not mine. Against all odds, he chose to do his famous post-fight interview with me, which threw me. I saw it as a fresh bout; Beauty versus the Beast. I stood before a man mountain, his skin as black as coal, as mine is like snow white. Despite his wounds, he remained calm, and the man I called a beast... turned out to be something else. A man that gave his money away to those that are fighting for equality, their family, even the right to live. It went against every preconception I had of the tower of muscle that stood before me, and when I touched his skin... the man that had just defeated another, I wanted him. I wanted him to take me, just as Darwin theorised the survival of the fittest. I tried to deny this thought, I wanted to feel disgusted, but the basest part of my mind and body betrayed me. And that is exactly how my soul perceived Alsami. The strongest, fittest male.

I expected him to take me, to plunder my every treasure. Instead, he gave me something, something that made me gush like I'd never done before. Then I offered myself to him, practically begged for him to take me but there's the catch. In Darwin's theory it's survival of the fittest, and in his mind, I am not worthy to join him, he saw me as for what I am, or should I say, was. A woman with lofty ideas born out of a life where I never had to struggle, never make a single sacrifice. As much as I am perceived as beautiful, he looked at me beyond the depth of my thin skin and saw... my true ugliness. For the first time in my life, I felt rejection, and it hurt far deeper than I ever imagined.

I have freed my fiancé from our so-called commitment. It was never about love, it was about status, nothing less, nothing more. But now I need to make amends for my further misguidance.

First, I need to apologise publicly to a couple I have recently met. To his wife, I'm sorry, your husband is a loving man, I witnessed how hard he is laying the foundations for your blossoming future. Have faith in him, and do all you can to support him.

I have preached that we women have spent too long in the shadows of men. There is some truth in that, but it isn't about wrestling power from one sex to another. It is about sharing love and commitment, supporting each other through thick and thin. Almost everything I have published up until now are the beliefs of a spoiled little rich girl. From this moment forwards, banish my earlier preachings from your mind.

It will be a slow road, I promise I will become a better person. It will not happen overnight, and I'm sure I will stumble. I went into a room expecting to take part in a verbal and mental bout between Beauty and the Beast. That's exactly what happened, except I had mistakenly cast myself in the role of Beauty. My heartfelt apologies to anyone who's life I have caused detriment to.

Sienna

۞۞۞۞

Six months later, Sienna arrived in Las Vegas, leaving her new assistant, Aya, in charge of pulling the now weekly Wheels 'n Heels column together. It found a wide audience, and had gone down a storm.

She was here because Alsami had a shot at the world title. At the request of the promoter, she had been asked to attend. Sensing that there may be another interview coming her way, she had been asked to report on the fight by a syndicate of papers across the globe.

On the night of the fight, as Alsami walked down, his face remained devoid of any emotion. He did, however, catch a brief glimpse of a woman who had once interviewed him. Today, instead of using the vision of killing the men that killed his sister, he would use the potential winner's interview to power him to victory. He had watched, he had waited, and she had changed, and with it, she was making the world a better place too. When she looked at him, she saw the faintest hint of a smile after he had glanced her way. To him, her beauty was now no longer skin deep, it went deeper, and there was now every chance he would personally look to explore the depth he knew she would willingly offer him.