Authors: Sean O'Kane
They drank to the new queen and when the helicopter took off to fly back to Bakhtar city, it carried a groom who perched on the top of a cage in which Sophie Suarez was locked on all fours.
It had taken months to
negotiate
and
arrange
. It was quite simply the biggest ever games
in
the era of the
Modern
Arenas: The Prote
us Stable v. The Bakhtar stable and within that contest would be Ace up against Lightning.
Clive Mostyn had brokered it and put up the prize money so it was being held at a neutral arena in the UK; the East Angels’ arena, not too far north of London. The
inter
net had been abuzz with it ever since it had been confirmed six months previously. At long, long last the half-sisters would battle it out to see which of them would assume their mother’s mantle.
Half way through the second day there was a studded whip duel and while the crowd settled down in the arena after a fine morning’s sport watching the log pulling, and all over the world crowds in ot
her arenas, where giant holographic projectors,
had been set up, settled down too, Brian knew something the crowd didn’t.
It didn’t matter which of them won today. There would be more duels; in pursuit running,
pony
racing, chariot racing, boxing… the rivalry was going to be milked until every last drop of value had been wrung from the girls. After all the hours of work with Lightning
over the previous months,
he knew how good she was, but he knew that Scott
Holroyd
knew his business too. No, they were both too good
to go down easily, so whichever girl did manage
to walk away from this, the other would have plenty of chances for revenge.
Beside him Martha smoothed her skirt down after she had had one of the Angels’ house slaves pleasure her af
ter the log pulling. For his part
he allowed himself to ejaculate into the mouth of the girl fellating him and nudged her out of the way with his foot
while he
did his flies up.
Out on the sand the two girls were being led towards the ring in the centre of the arena flo
or. On one giant monitor screen
he could see Asil looking nervous, leading the impassive Sophie Saurez out and on the other Scott himself led the seductive
Anna Chatham
out.
Both girls wore
a sort of steel bustier that gave their breasts and stomachs some cover, although the upper curves of the breasts were squeezed up into deliciously vulnerable cushions and their backs were bare above a thin strap that held the armour on – and which could be removed with a skilled whip strike. At their groins were
chain mail
thongs – just enough to take
out the full venom of a strike
, but not enough
to offer any real protection, and of course the buttocks were naked.
The forearm of their whip wielding arm had a guard on it and their shins were armoured too. They each had goggles and a small
,
lightweight shield. The ferocious whips they would fight with were coiled tight in their right hands, but the cameras closed in on the wide section at the end of each whip’s tail, where the sun glinted off the studs.
The girls climbed into the large ring and their seconds stood back.
Brian had never heard an arena go so deathly quiet
. Even up here in the
owners’ box, he could hear the girls’
feet shuffle over the sand as they tested their fighting ground. After all the months of waiting, this was it. In the cavernous silence
the two girls let the whips uncoil
,
and the cameras took
some last,
lingering
close ups of their superb bodies, as yet unmarked.
Brian
sat forwards as the man with the starting pistol walked out onto the sand
too
and it seemed as if every single person in the crowd
sat forwards
as well,
and still utter silence reigned
.
It was strange that even though the decision had been taken not to try and explain to Sophie who Ace really was, it didn’t detract from the fact that while the crowds only cared about Ace versus Lightning, there was another, much older struggle going on. Through the two girls now squaring up to each other in the arena, Carlo
Suarez’s
and Conor Brien’s deadly rivalry
which had started so long ago
was moving into a second generation.
For a
moment
he shivered, as if someone had walked over his grave and he looked around, startled, as if Carlo might suddenly appear in the seat on his left. He
smiled at his own over heated fancy
and settled down again.
Down below him the starting pistol was raised and two beautiful girls prepared to give the voyeuristic crowd what it had always come to the arenas for; sex and suffering.
The pistol went off with its usual dry
‘
Crack!
’.
I
nstantly the
noise flooded back, beating at his ears as the arena
went wild
and
the crowd yelled their particular fancy on. The two girls advanced towards each other grimly, and as the first hiss and smack of leather on flesh and on steel floated up from the arena, Brian smiled.
“Game on!” he thought, and
t
his was just the start.