The Pink Ninja

Authors Note: This was a story I wrote back in December for a friend. Thank you very much to Aisielynn who graciously offered to proofread this story for me. Thank you once again to everyone who leaves comments and feedback as well as votes on my writing, it is much appreciated. I hope you enjoy it. ~ellie

*****

Mike held his head in his hands. The blood had long ceased pouring from his nose and a gash across his cheekbone. The blood-soaked cloth that held the ice he had been given eased the blinding pain that lanced through his brain just enough to catch snippets of the conversation happening a few feet away from him. He winced as he turned his head, trying to make out the man who was talking to the officer in charge with the one eye that wasn't swollen shut.

Friggin' case worker. Fuck he hadn't seen him since he turned eighteen and had finally been able to start living his own life. What the fuck was he doing here? He felt a knot in the pit of his gut as he thought of the foster sister he had left behind when he had been pulled from her half dead ex-boyfriend's prone form. "Nah, it wouldn't be her. She ran when the police showed up," he told himself. Guilt at not telling her to run as soon as the fight started kept the knot tightly bound in his gut.

"Hey slugger," Paul Lawton smiled easily as he came and sat adjacent to Mike. "Seems you still can't take a joke, according to Officer McDermott over there," he jerked his head indicating the figure hovering behind them.

Mike pulled the ice away from his face and glared at Paul saying nothing.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Paul continued ignoring the baleful stare. "You put a guy in the hospital, Mike. You have to talk to someone."

"Is he pressing charges?" Mike spat the question feeling that this guy showing up and acting like he cared was just another kick in the guts.

"He's not conscious, Mike!" Paul was shocked by the aggressiveness in the young man's posture and voice. He knew he shouldn't have been, but it was as if a rage boiled within the young man fuelling unquenchable hate for the world and everyone in it. He had always been difficult to help, bouncing from one foster home to the next until the last place, for some reason that one had worked. At least for the short time he was there.

Paul considered the young man before him for a long time in silence. "So, I guess you'll just talk to a lawyer then?"

"It was just a fight. If he isn't pressing charges, you have to let me go. I know my rights," Mike said belligerently.

"I don't think it's gonna be that simple. You've got quite a list of charges as well as aggravated assault. There's destruction of property and public nuisance to name just two."

"Bullshit charges, and you know it," Mike sat back in his chair, his anger surfacing again as he clenched his fists. "Why the fuck do you care? I'm not your problem anymore. I don't even know why you're fucking bugging me with this bullshit. Fuck off back to where ever you came from and leave me the hell alone."

Paul had heard it before, the same speech. He was so tired of seeing the young men he had once watched over destroying themselves at a rate of two to one. Mostly drugs and booze but Mike seemed determined to get beaten to death judging by his criminal history. Still he sat looking at the young man saying nothing and gauging what his next move would be.

Ten uncomfortably silent moments later, the officer in charge came and tapped Paul on the shoulder. Looking up, he nodded and without a word walked away leaving Mike to ice his wounds again.

*****

Mike had been given bail and walked from the courthouse with his foster sister, Tara, and a business card his useless public lawyer had forced him to take from her. She had said that it would go a long way in his defence if he started an anger management program or at least found an outlet for his stress and aggression.

"Promise me, no more trouble until after the court date," Tara had begun to nag at him before they had even got home.

"It's not like I went and picked a fight for no reason, Tara. That asshole knew what would happen if he laid a finger on you," Mike felt the rage surge back into him. He'd gone back to the foster home the day Tara had turned eighteen and taken her to live with him. She was the only person in the world he cared about enough to consider family. Fuck, if he was honest about it, she was quite possibly the only person in the world he cared about full stop.

He dumped his wallet and keys on the table as they walked into the small apartment. The card his lawyer had pressed on him flipped up as it fell to show the name of a local mixed martial arts dojo and the instructor's name, "Tiffany Hall: Pink Ninja". He smiled when he saw that the owner was a woman and thought, "What the hell, punching people there was bound to land him in less trouble than street fighting." Plus he thought to himself laughing, it had to be a joke. A pink ninja called Tiffany.

"Yeah alright, I promise," he grumbled picking the card up off the table. "Tell you what. Just to make you happy, I will even go check out this anger management stuff the lawyer told us about."

"Really?" Tara asked sceptically.

"Yeah really," He rolled his eyes at her, "You can come too. Be good to know you knew how to defend yourself if shit-for-brains ever shows up again."

"There's something else, since you seem to be in a good mood for a change," Tara said hesitantly.

"This doesn't sound good," Mike pulled the fridge door open and grabbed a beer. He held up his hand as he took a long pull on the bottle stopping her from talking. "Okay hit me with it."

"They don't want you back at the bar," she said sadly. He had worked there as a bouncer for over a year. Still, he wasn't surprised that this fight had cost him his job. He should have waited until he had finished work, but the asshole had provoked him just by being there.

"I'll find something else," Mike took another swig of his beer and opened the pantry doors looking for something to munch on.

"There's this guy who used to work for the department, caseworker or something. Anyway, he owns a comic book store now and could use someone, if you're interested," Tara rushed on before she lost her nerve.

"Then you should take it. Beats working at the bar and you're better with people than I am. You may have noticed, I am not exactly good with people," he gave a derisive laugh.

"The guy has some issues with shoplifters. He is looking for a guy who can be a little intimidating I think," she said weighing her words carefully.

"This guy wants to hire me sight unseen?" The coin finally dropped, and he put both his hands on the bench and glared at his sister. "I think you better tell me the whole story, don't you?"

"He's just trying to help you like he always did," Tara sighed knowing he would reject the offer now.

"No one's ever helped me in my whole life, Tara. So who is this Good Samaritan who has suddenly appeared to interfere in our lives?"

"Paul Lawton," Tara said quietly and stepped back as Mike exploded.

*****

Mike picked up his final check from the bar that morning and knew it wasn't going to pay much more than his share of the rent and utilities. With his reputation well known, he had little other choice, as Tara had reminded him than to see Paul about the job. Having grudgingly accepted the position without any show of gratitude, he agreed to start the following day.

He then went down to the dojo to check out the pink ninja and complete the whole unpleasant business of having to act like he gave a shit about what anyone thought about him. It was early afternoon, and the gym seemed relatively empty as he approached the front counter.

A blonde woman with startlingly bright eyes looked up and smiled. She took in the dark clothes and demeanour and laughed. "You must be the kid that Nancy suggested needed an outlet for some anger issues?" Tiffany recognised Mike from her sister's description. It was a win-win arrangement they had. Nancy got some well-needed leverage for her clients in court, and the dojo got clients.

"I guess that could be me," Mike felt his hackles rise at being called a kid.

"How about I show you around. I can give you a quick demo of how things work here and then you can decide if you want to join us," she said unperturbed by his obvious animosity toward her.

She got up from behind the counter and walked toward the large open doorway that led into the gym. Mike had to admit that for an old lady she was pretty fit. Not that she was that old, maybe early thirties. The dobak she wore while loose-fitting, left little to his imagination. He felt his cock jump in appreciation as he turned to follow her at a slower pace noting the curve of her ass beneath the thin material.

"Nancy told me you're a fighter, what sort of training have you done previously," Tiffany asked as she moved toward the large padded floor space where two men were sparring.

"Natural talent," Mike shrugged. This woman was pissing him off fast, and he realised that coming here was probably the worst idea he'd had that day. It wasn't like getting fired officially or having to take a job from a do-gooder like Paul Lawton had been all that much better. This woman though got on his last nerve.

Tiffany watched the two men sparring for a few minutes in silence, keeping the angry young man within her line of sight. He certainly wasn't a pretty boy. Not quite tall and he had a lean, hungry look about him. She imagined that under those ill-fitting clothes was wirey muscled physique, coiled and ready to strike out at any moment. If she could have imagined a typical bad boy, this kid would come close.

Nancy had given her a generalised background on the kid. It wasn't pretty but if teaching this guy a way to manage his anger would bring new business in, who was she to be picky. The fledgling business was struggling. So few people in this part of town wanted a woman in charge of the dojo. Winning a few televised matches had helped her reputation, but it was all about the fitness and skill now not being a contender in the championships.

"So, these are the practise mats," she spun on her heel and moved away expecting him to follow. They walked toward one of the movable paper framed walls and slid it back, "An obstacle course," she announced walking into the next room. Ropes, beams and vaults met his gaze. They moved through to a weapons training room, then to a small tradition gym with weights and machines before ending the tour in the bathrooms.

"Male and female toilets at either end and unisex showers and locker space here," she indicated the different areas. "That's about it. Do you feel up to a fitness test? I can find you something to wear," she looked him up and down, gauging his size.

"Yeah, I don't think that's gonna happen," he murmured. Internally his mind raged at the woman, for looking at him like a slab of meat, and at himself for liking her tough overbearing demeanour. He turned and walked away. He didn't need this shit, and he especially didn't need some pink bitch in his face telling him he wasn't good enough to be here. He had enough people telling him that his whole life.

"What? Don't like being told what to do by a woman?" Tiffany taunted him trying to make him mad enough to prove her wrong. "Big strong guy like you should be able to handle whatever I can dish out," a perfectly sweet smile appeared on her face.

"You think because you've got a pussy you can lead me around by my dick?" He challenged her in response. "You'll have to do better than that."

He'd seen other guys get whipped by girls who led them around by their dicks. He wasn't falling into that trap. He'd avoided it by just staying away from them entirely. Sure he had thought about sex, fuck he was human after all but he wasn't about to go down like that. Not that he had had much luck or opportunity even with the girls who apparently put out for anyone. Unwilling to let his guard down with anyone who may have given him the time and refusing to resort to paying for it, Mike had remained a virgin.

Tiffany hastened to catch up with him as he entered the training mats on his way to the door. "I hadn't thought of that but now that you mention it," she grabbed his shoulder, and when he turned to face her, she grabbed his crotch. "This could be fun too." The challenge in her eyes didn't match the carefully positioned smile on her lips.

"Fuck off, bitch. Save your cougar moves for someone a little more impressionable," Mike lowered his hand to move hers away from his rapidly hardening cock. He grabbed her wrist and looked up at her face and the false smile as he struggled to make her remove her hand from him.

"What's wrong? Can't fight a girl?" The taunting continued as she measured his reactions. Mike growled enduring the slow squeeze of his balls. After several minutes of holding his hand wrapped around her wrist and his eyes locked on hers, he put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her hard.

Surprised by the sudden move, she went down but swept her leg out bringing him down heavily with her and rolled quickly to gain the higher ground. She pinned him to the mat. Of similar height, she was in better condition than the wiry young man, and she smirked as she straddled his hips feeling his obvious erection through the thin material of her dobak.

Mike bucked from underneath her and gritted his teeth, he then rolled in an attempt to reverse the position. To his chagrin, she kept the momentum of the roll going and remained in the upper position. His anger fuelled by his rotten day, her attitude and his embarrassment over his inability to control his erection seethed within him, and he decided to fight fire with fire.

Reaching up, he pushed through the opening of her dobak and grabbed her breasts. Squeezing hard, he growled between clenched teeth, "So you like to hit on guys young enough to be your son, do you?" He saw her blanch momentarily before the fake smile returned. Taking advantage of the momentary lapse he pressed harder. "Fucking old broads," he spat and rolled her to her back pinning her with his weight on her chest.

"You wanna fuck? Is that what this whole demo is about? Fine with me, but don't think I am gonna let you call the shots." It was all the bravado he could muster, but as soon as he said it he felt a surge of anxious adrenaline, thinking he might actually have to follow through with what he had just said.

She laughed. It hadn't been in her game plan but what the hell. This guy was hard bodied and aggressive, just her type. It had been a while since she had had a good workout. "If you think you can take the punishment, I'll fight you for the top," she deftly manoeuvred to be hovering over him again then stood. "Follow me," she let the front of her dobak hang open revealing her generous breasts as she reached down to help him up.

Mike ignored her hand and stood up glowering at her. He was frustrated that he had put himself into this situation. Tiffany walked away expecting him to follow like a good boy, and he looked at the beckoning doorway out onto the street.

"Leave if you want," Tiffany's taunting voice called to him from a short distance away. "I doubt you have what it takes to satisfy me anyway."

"Fuck!" Mike cursed loudly. He hated having to follow her but was aware that this room was not the place to potentially humiliate himself by getting beaten and screwed by a friggin' pink ninja. He would show her that he was not so easily dominated. He stalked after her, pushing past her and into the room beyond. Adrenaline coursed through him as he prepared for a fight he wasn't so sure he wanted to win.

*****

Mike found himself in a small practise room. The floor was covered wall to wall with a training mat, and there was no other furniture to impede a training session or practise bout. Mike was no stranger to fighting. He had been in more than one dojo since he was ten. Part of Paul Lawton's intervention in his life always seemed to include some reasonable outlet for his aggression as an alternative to picking fights with anyone who annoyed him.

"Do you want a proper warm up first?" Tiffany asked lightly with a half-smile throwing a pair of dobak pants for him to change into. He looked around, and the smile on her face widened as realising there was nowhere to hide he stripped before her not even bothering to turn around and shield himself. "This kid has balls in more way than one," she thought as she checked out his package.

"Sure, why not," he agreed stalling for time and thinking he could gain an advantage if he could check her style. He watched as she went to a hidden panel on the wall, and up-tempo music began to play in the room surrounding him. Up-tempo it may have been but rainbows and unicorns it wasn't. It was angry thumping music, and he watched as she began a warm up routine before joining in with his own.

"You ready?" She asked after about ten minutes.

"Sure, why not," he shrugged acting nonchalant but, after seeing her warm up routine, felt a small knot of indecision ball in his gut. He had never hit a girl in his life, and this girl was very much a woman. While not particularly tall, Mike wasn't exactly a small guy, and he knew if he put some brute force into it she wouldn't stand much of a chance.

"That's your opening stance?" Mike scoffed hoping to throw her off by some smack talk before they began. "I think you need this workout more than me, ninja girl."

"You think you can teach me something new?" She scoffed at the idea and watched as he eyed her from his opposing stance. She knew she was in great shape. Her strong, curvy legs were long and attractive. She had an almost perfectly flat waist that showed a hint of the muscle under it. The little bit of the curve her stomach had didn't distract from her beauty but added to it. While she often complained about her weight, she knew Mike was admiring her amazing almost perfect body.

She worked hard to maintain this body with shaping and sculpting exercises in the gym. She also knew the effect she had on most men was written all over this kid's face, and it made her hot for the challenge of besting him in this bout and gaining the upper hand. If he fucked half as well as she imagined, this would be a fight to remember.

It had been too long since a man had touched her the right way. In fact, she wasn't sure if she had been touched the right way at all. She remembered her last lover, sessions with him had almost become a form of foreplay for her. After rolling around and sweating with him, they would retire to dinner. Drinking wine and talking late. Often he would spend hours massaging her. Then after he left she would still be left with her desire.

She had become an expert in what she liked and had found the perfect pink tool to exercise that need. She would tease herself, building up, until finally after an explosive orgasm she would sink into her down bed and finally sleep. She eyed this new challenge. She'd be lucky to get foreplay from this one. So young and serious, but the pure "Fuck you" aggression in his whole person was enough of a turn on for her to want to find out what he had behind that bad boy façade.

Mike saw her mind wander and made his move. It was swift and as he caught her around the legs and pummelled her into the training mat he squeezed her thighs enjoying the feel of toned muscle stiffening as she braced and hit the ground. She rolled, and he rolled over her. He continued to assault her guard with escapes that allowed him to use his grappling skills, not only to fight this woman but also explore her body. His hands lingered over her ass and thighs as she slipped into a side hold, her generous breasts barely held by the loose dobak and flimsy cotton singlet beneath.