Last Slave Standing (22 page)

The timekeepers blew their whistles simultaneously.

With her head hanging and her breath rasping in her throat, Blondie felt her shackles being unfastened and heard the crowd begin to count towards twenty.

Slowly she began to lever herself up and the count almost submerged under the cheers when her breasts swung free beneath her and the cameras caught the craters in the normally smooth and silky skin. Only staggering slightly she regained her feet and managed to head back to her ring. Patti put a bottle of water to her lips as the count went past fourteen, then she ducked through the ropes and Patti wrung a sponge out over her back.

“Stay out of reach you big dumb ox!” she heard Patti yell as the count hit twenty. She looked at the other ring and saw Snake caressing her own breasts fondly as she waited for the next bout. Blondie shook her head to clear it and settled herself too. This was not going to be a walk over.

Carlo eased himself back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin. Out of the corner of his eye he watched Conor Brien urgently conferring with Mark Cavanagh.

Out on the floor of the arena the two slaves were staving off defeat at the hands of their seventh opponents. Both were much slower than they had been but were still putting up some spirited resistance. Both were heavily marked from six visits to the punishment equipment but as he watched, Carlo saw Blondie neatly sidestep an attempted hold and trip her man up as he lurched forwards off balance. The frown on Conor Brien’s face was eloquent testimony to the fact that he realised his attempt to dope her had failed and that that meant Snake was probably doomed to defeat. Presumably he had bet heavily on her, thinking that Blondie would collapse after only a couple of rounds. Carlo smiled and beckoned one of the household slaves over, unzipping his trousers and fumbling his semi-tumescent cock out before shifting his pelvis farther forwards in his seat. The girl, a pretty young black one wearing only a gauzy white tabard, knelt obediently between his spread knees and went to work with her tongue. He felt he could afford to relax now and was quite unperturbed to see Blondie, having taken a hard posting and a pinfall, led across to the rack and put on it face down. She was clearly back on form and could soak up a lot more punishment yet. Snake was being ankle suspended and when both slaves were mounted to their respective victors’ satisfaction, the clocks were started and the beatings began.

By the end of round ten, Snake was regularly being held down some three or four minutes before Blondie and paying for it by having to spend longer under the lash. Each successive man was now able to take his time a bit more and clamps and pegs began to come into play. The crowd was delighted with the spectacle of the two slaves, dripping with sweat and sperm, tottering back towards their rings while desperately trying to wrench pegs off their nipples and breasts or clamps from their labia and inner thighs. The first round of direct slave-versus-slave combat went to Blondie who hoisted Snake by crotch holds twice and threw her down onto the ropes after the second one. The crowd roared its approval as Snake’s body bounced off the top rope and landed heavily outside the ring. Blondie ducked out through them and carried on regardless, putting her opponent in a headlock and using her free hand to claw at her breasts. The referee stepped in and separated them and once they were back in the ring Snake came back at Blondie in a snarling rage and landed several punches which had the taller girl reeling back into the ropes before she was able to dodge the onslaught, reach between her legs again, upend her foe and slam her down on her back. She knelt astride her face and tugged mercilessly at Snake’s nipples until the referee declared the round over.

Snake took a count of seventeen after having been put on the X cross facing outwards, so that her shoulders benefited from the studs while her breasts took the whip, before she was back on her feet in her ring and ready to face another man.

The writing was on the wall and it was in the nature of the contest that once one slave weakened, everything conspired to hasten her downfall. The next man into her ring simply grabbed Snake’s arm and swung her into a post, then placed a foot on the back of her head when she collapsed. She went into full X shaped suspension for fourteen minutes with heavy weights slung from chains that were attached to clamps at her labia while Blondie managed to hold out for nearly four minutes before she was held down and so only had eleven minutes to endure.

Everyone could see how the contest would end; it was the delight of seeing how long it could be spun out that kept the crowd riveted.

Chapter 24

Blondie raised her head and tried to shake the rats’ tails of sweat-matted hair from her eyes. She tried to calm her breathing because deep breaths increased the sharp pricking of the tines under her breasts. Her limbs ached from the tension they had been placed under as the man had turned the rachets on the rack again and again. He had milked it for all it was worth, asking the crowd to give the thumbs up if they thought she had been stretched enough, or the thumbs down if they felt he ought to try another turn. A side effect had been to crush her breasts more cruelly beneath her.

Between her spread legs she vaguely felt the man’s fingers twist and clench inside her but she was so wet and had taken so much spunk inside her that she was becoming desensitised, what was occupying her attention far more was that one of the timekeepers was sauntering over, unzipping his flies and heading for where her head hung down between the spread arms of the rack. She licked her lips and swallowed in preparation just as he arrived with his polished helm shining in the sun and a pearl of pre ejaculate at the slit. It slid smoothly between her lips and came to rest, filling her mouth completely just as the man behind her introduced something a lot bigger than just his fingers and she felt his pelvis slam against her buttocks as he began pistoning in and out of her. Then the strap began to fall across her already stinging shoulders as the two men used her holes to pleasure themselves in and the crowd watched on gleefully as the combination of cock and whip drove her hurtling once more into an abyss of exhausted orgasm.

She just managed to hold onto consciousness as both men ejaculated almost simultaneously and she spluttered helplessly as she tried to swallow the spurts of thick jism splashing against the back of her throat as the whip sliced down relentlessly even as she felt another load of sperm fountaining out into her flooding vagina.

Once more she was released and had to lever herself up off the tines, clamber down onto the sand and stagger back to the ring. This time her feet didn’t seem to go where she wanted them to and she fell twice before she was near enough to the ring for Patti to squeeze tepid water from the sponge over her face.

It revived her enough to allow her to climb into the ring on the count of nineteen. She didn’t have a chance to see how Snake was faring because her next opponent was already in the ring. What with the timekeeper joining in the fun and her next opponent already waiting to flatten her, Blondie realised that the arena was playing with its helpless captives. All that mattered now was beating the count to twenty whenever she was finished with. There was no pretence of any structure other than that.

She let herself go and meekly went wherever this next man wanted her. All her energies now had to be husbanded carefully, Snake was much tougher than she looked and Blondie let herself be slung against the ropes and then thrown clear over the man’s back as she rebounded. She had just enough concentration left to get her feet and arms down to cushion herself but even so she skidded out under the bottom rope, grazing her abraided back and bottom as she went. Groaning she rolled onto her front and felt her backside being lifted up so she could get her knees under her and looking round she saw the referee was kneeling behind her with his hand round his thickly engorged cock. He grinned at her and thrust for her back entrance. Blondie got her head down and rounded her back to help him in from that angle and so caked and slippery was her whole genital area that he was able in one thrust to gain entry. It took a couple more before he could move freely but then she felt the sharp, hard sting of a stock whip across her back and she threw her head back in shock more than pain. By then she was flying on the wings of the sexual frenzy that always gripped her when the arenas were at their cruellest. In front of her some man she had never seen before was wanking in preparation to spurting all over her face and head, over on her right Snake was being treated in exactly the same way but she couldn’t help noticing that despite the whip being plied on her back, her head stayed down.

“Would either of you gentlemen care to throw in the towel?” Salim Mahmood asked. “It would appear that the rules have gone out of the window – as I believe the saying is.”

Carlo grinned and shook his head. He knew that Blondie would be savouring every second of suffering out there and he doubted if there was a slave anywhere who could live with her combination of masochism and strength. Snake might come close but even she would go down first.

“No,” Conor Brien said gruffly without looking at him. “Let the bitches play it out to the end.”

In the record books it went down as a win in the eighteenth round but in truth there had been no rounds after the fourteenth. The shadows of late afternoon had begun to fall across the arena and the crowd watched in rapt fascination as the two stubborn competitors time and time again endured their conquerors’ pleasure and tottered upright for more of the same. But eventually there came a time when Blondie and Snake were thrown out of their respective rings at the same time and met in a final clinch on the arena floor. Kneeling up they clawed, scratched and pummelled each other while two whips tormented them and the first blood was spilt. They were pulled apart but the crowd bayed for them to be allowed to finish. So instead of being put back in the rings they were pulled to their feet and given straps and left to dodge in and out of the whipping frames and racks; Blondie always on the front foot, Snake desperately fending her off. The end came when Blondie got in a series of uppercuts between Snake’s legs as she staggered back from a punch. But she didn’t go down straight away and to many people who watched the film later it looked as though an expression of bliss crossed her face as the thick leather carved up into her slit and in slow motion a spray of sweat and sperm arced away from her body. In any case she stayed weaving drunkenly but upright, her legs spread, making no move to prevent Blondie delivering, two, three, four, five more heavy lashes, before her legs buckled and she knelt on the sand in front of Blondie and then she collapsed to lie on her face in front of her.

Blondie looked up at the owners’ box. Her breath rasped and scorched in her throat, her legs would barely support her, she could taste blood from a split lip and she could feel more trickling down across her buttocks. Her breasts pounded and ached, her joints protested from several sessions on the rack and her nipples were stinging from the scraping they had had on the hard earth and the studs. But she felt thrillingly alive. And up there, right at the limits of her exhausted vision, she finally found what she was looking for; a stocky dark-haired figure looking down at her and smiling. Blondie let the dark close over her.

Chapter 25

A week later she examined her reflection in the mirror as Patti carefully brushed out her hair. She was sitting on the low stool in her stall, naked and with her hands clipped behind her as ever. One eye was still slightly closed, her lips were still fatter than normal, her chest and breasts carried the scabs from the punctures sustained on the cross and the rack but all in all she was well on the road to recovery. That morning had seen her trot gingerly on the lunge rein and her joints had felt worryingly stiff but the new vet had declared that a few severe sessions on a rack would do that to even the fittest slave and that she would be fine in a few weeks’ time.

Behind her Patti was whistling softly as she worked and Blondie felt supremely relaxed and happy. Her master had told everyone how proud he was of her and she could want for nothing more. He fed her her favourite biscuits every day and Patti took her into the horsebox each afternoon for a long session with a strap-on where the others couldn’t see and get jealous.

Suddenly Patti finished with her hair and leaned over her to replace the brush, Blondie felt her breasts soft against her shoulder.

“Now then,” she said soflty, “let’s get you looking halfway decent, Blondie. You’re on show tonight!”

Blondie watched as the Scotswoman picked up her lipstick, the pale coral colour that suited her complexion so well, and began to apply it. She pouted obediently and tried not to show any disappointment that she was only on show that night. Hair brushed till it was shining and make up usually meant she was in for a night of prolonged sex torment and use in a dungeon. But if her master wanted to display her, then so be it.

Patti skilfully thickened her eyelashes and added just a touch of liner, applied lip gloss and a light dusting of blusher to her cheeks before clipping her tongue leash on and urging her to her feet. Then she tapped her left leg and Blondie obediently raised it behind her to have a high-heeled, steel-shod sandal fitted and buckled on as Patti bent down from beside her. Then the other foot was shod and Patti led her out and across the floor to her own cupboard and opened the door fully so that Blondie could see her whole reflection in the mirror on the inside of it. And while Patti fussed and fiddled with some things inside, Blondie took advantage of the uncommon opportunity to examine her whole body. It bore its recent scars well, she thought, and she longed for Carlo to lie with her and dig his fingers into her welts and scars as he fucked her to the stars and back. She tossed her head as the thought sent tingles of hot excitement spearing through her and stamped one foot.

Patti shushed her and pulled her tongue leash hard so that she was forced to look at what she had been doing. There was a range of rosettes laid out for her to wear and at the end of the line she recognised the medal that had been pinned onto her breast once she had come round after winning the Last Slave Standing challenge. Patti looped her leash round a hook and took up an inch long steel needle in one hand and a rosette in the other.

Half an hour later Blondie took another look at her reflection when her leash was unfastened. In a line stretching from between her breasts down to just above her labial split she wore a multi-coloured cascade of colour from where Patti had taken pinch after pinch of skin and carefully pierced it before tucking the point of each pin back into the rosette. On her right breast she proudly carried four more rosettes. They ranged from ‘Best in Show’ for grooming and presentation at the start of shows to wins in dressage team and individual events and chariot racing.

Patti stood back and admired her handiwork.

“Okay,” she said approvingly. “And now for the
piece de resistance
!”

She bent her head and Blondie sighed in delight as she felt her tongue lick and stroke the nipple into even harder erection. She knew what was coming and let her thoughts dwell on the shiny needle to harden the nipple up even more. Patti lifted her head and laughed throatily, then held the temptingly fat, red tube between thumb and forefinger, stretching it out away from her body and Blondie watched with calm pleasure as the bright steel, with one end already passed through the ribbon, pressed hard and then harder and she winced slightly at the sharp pain that burned into her as the needle broke through. There were the seconds of strangeness as the metal was slowly eased through her flesh – she knew that nothing should be hurried; a slave should experience and appreciate fully everything that is done to her in her master’s name – then there came the second lance and the sight of the flesh straining and finally yielding as the needle emerged. Patti tucked it back into the ribbon and there it was. The gold medal for the first LSS – as it was already becoming known. Blondie looked at herself in purest delight as Patti took a tissue and wiped a few specks of blood off her. The medal dangled and swung and flashed with every movement, the figure embossed on it, a slave tethered to a post and looking with nervous anticipation over her shoulder, summed up for her the arena slave’s condition.

Patti led her around for a few turns of the stable, just to let her get used to the tugs of the needles and the weight of the medal and then led her out and up to the big house.

There were lights and crowds, smells of rich drinks, richer food and expensive cigars. There were beautiful Housegirls in their long evening dresses and Lodge members in dinner jackets but as usual she let it all drift past her. The intrigued hands lifting and examining her rosettes and ribbons, weighing her medal and laughing as the pin pulled and distorted the nipple and breast, all meant nothing to her. Blondie only had eyes for her master and eventually he came to her and took the leash from Patti’s hand. Proudly he led her through the crowd and she came behind equally proud and docile, her whole attention focussed on every nuance of his expressions until at last he led her out of the house and back towards the stables. However he didn’t take her there, instead he took her into the horsebox parked inside the training stadium. Once there he had her lie on her back in one of the stalls and she watched him in the dim light as he stepped out of his clothes and then knelt to free her hands. She felt his strong thighs press against the insides of hers and she lifted her legs to open herself for him as he leaned forwards and slowly settled his weight on her torso, she moaned in pleasure at the discomfort he caused her and heard him sigh in delight as he penetrated her and crushed her piercings down onto her. He began to move backwards and forwards, slowly savouring her body and rasping her breasts up and down as he did so. Her arms encircled her master and she clasped him to her, ecstatic at the casual way he took his pleasure in her passionately-offered pain.

“She should go to auction. We can’t trust the silly little bitch any more!” Carlo paced up and down behind his desk. In front of it and ranged to either side sat Brian, Patti, Chrissie Sands and John Carpenter.

What to do with Raika was exercising everyone. Carlo was dead set on getting rid of her and John was inclined that way as well, The Lodge itself had had security problems over the years. Only Patti and Chrissie sided with the little Indian groom, still languishing in the cells a fortnight after the Last Slave Standing challenge. Brian just couldn’t make up his mind, although Amelia was threatening dire consequences if she was sold.

“Carlo, you know that up until Sir John got his claws into the poor thing, she was as good a groom as money could buy,” Patti protested.

“But can we ever trust anyone who is so stupid as to actually believe anything that man said?” John wanted to know.

“Yes, I think you can,” Chrissie said. “I’ve spent time talking to her and she’s told me pretty well her entire life story. I know why the bastards were able to manipulate her and she knows now she’s been a fool. If it helps, I’ll stand guarantor for her future good behaviour. But don’t sell her, please.”

All eyes were on Carlo. John might be a partner but when it came to the day to day running of the stable, it was Carlo’s baby.

“Brian? What to you reckon?” he asked.

There was a further long silence.

“We’d have to look a long way to find anyone better with the stock, and probably have to pay through the nose when we found her. If Chrissie’ll stand guarantor, I say we give her a chance.”

“Very well,” Carlo stopped pacing and resumed his seat. “But she needs to understand that she belongs here and nowhere else, so after her sentence is carried out, I will see to it that if her brand doesn’t remind her where her loyalties lie, she carries something that will. And if you, Doctor, want to stand as guarantee that she will behave, you must carry out the punishment.”

Everyone turned to Chrissie who swallowed nervously but squared her shoulders defiantly. “Alright. I’ll do it.”

Sentence was carried out on a rainy day a week later. In the old stableyard, partly enclosed by The Lodge itself a gibbet was set up and the shivering slave was manacled beneath its beam with her hands raised and fastened to one ring so that she could twist and twirl to her heart’s content and the spectators’ pleasure but not escape one iota of her due punishment.

Her sentence was to spend an afternoon undergoing a full body whipping in three separate stages. First she was to take a flogger with heavy suede tails, second would come a heavy strap and lastly was a wickedly long length of oiled hide. There were no set number of lashes, Chrissie would simply have to administer the flogging with all her strength until Carlo called a halt. After a rest, and most likely some attention from some of the male onlookers, the next stage would commence at Carlo’s discretion. If at any time he felt that Chrissie was going easy on her little lover, he would call a foul stroke and it would be taken again.

Brian had had Chrissie practising on Ox all week to make sure that the punishment was delivered professionally and efficiently.

Raika’s flesh quivered and shone in the light drizzle as she steadied herself, legs apart and back well hollowed to give her audience a good sight of her prettily neat and plump cunt.

“Begin,” Carlo called simply.

Chrissie began by lashing the buttocks and instantly the tails raised a spray of rain. Raika responded immediately and much more emphatically than normal, the wet and the chill making the leathers’ bite more spiteful. She snapped her pelvis forwards and half turned so that the second lash caught her across her hips and the ends of the tails foraged towards her crotch. She spun back and cried out as she met the next lash across her stomach. Doctor Sands took a break for a few seconds to let her victim settle and then began again.

Slowly the time passed and the onlookers came and went as the doctor plied the whip with tight lipped determination, Raika spun and howled and Carlo watched dispassionately. At length, when her normally honey-gold skin was blushing almost all over her and her breasts were quivering as she fought for breath, he called the first section of her punishment over.

At once several Lodge members formed a queue and the gasping, slight figure of the groom was soon being rocked forwards on her feet as she hung on grimly to her chain with her small hands as one after another they sampled her depths and played with her scored breasts as they waited for their pleasure to overcome them.

Chrissie Sands tersely asked if Carlo had any objections to her taking a quick break before the second part began and he said he had none. She walked slowly out of the courtyard as the sounds of Raika’s orgasms began to echo round it, turned right and found Patti waiting beside the path leading to the training stadium. Quickly both women stepped under the shelter of a tree, Patti urgently flung her arms around Chrissie whilst the doctor’s hand went straight up under Patti’s skirt. The Scotswoman sighed as she felt the fingers inside her.

“How’s she doing?” she asked.

“Christ! She looks so fuckable when I’m whipping her! Now get down and tongue me you whore.”

Patti reluctantly dropped to her knees, bidding farewell to the fingers in her cunt. Chrissie unzipped her trousers and pushed them down, she was not wearing any knickers and Patti was able to get her tongue straight at the clitoris as Chrissie peeled back the hood to help her. She tasted tangily of excitement as Patti sucked at the swollen nub, but that was hardly surprising, Raika was a beautiful sight under punishment. Chrissie reached down and crushed her face to her groin. Patti redoubled her efforts and her mouth began to fill with the strong tasting juices as the soft labial flesh parted before her rasping tongue. Above her the doctor sighed, went rigid and slammed her pelvis against Patti’s face again and again as a rush of thick spend filled Patii’s mouth. Then she was pushed away and the doctor pulled her trousers up hurriedly.

“Wait here. I’ll need you again after I’ve finished with the strap,” she snapped and hurried away.

Patti watched her go, then lifted her skirt and began to masturbate.

Raika had recovered a little when Chrissie returned and as soon as she saw her, she resumed her proper stance of hollowed back and spread legs to receive her next tranche. Her inner thighs were shining with more than mere water however, and Carlo decreed that the first ten strokes from the strap should be to her cunt in order to clean it out. Chrissie obeyed and snapped the heavy leather upwards with an ease that Ox had suffered for days on end to achieve. Raika went onto tip toe and yelped at each lash before settling back into her rhythm of twisting and hopping as the lash was applied to her back, shoulders and breasts. She was beginning to tire however and Chrissie had to take fewer pauses for her to settle as her movements became less frantic.

By the time Carlo pronounced the second section complete, Raika’s hide was still blushing from the flogger but now the strap had overlaid that with wide streaks of red with small craters in places where the tip had bitten in especially hard. These seemed to cluster around her breasts and upper ribs, as though her flagellator had been trying especially hard to make the pretty breasts dance and swing.

Again there were many men who required relief after the prolonged beating and Chrissie again asked to take a break.