Naked Ambition (12 page)

But when there were twice as many Girl Squad fighters as Orange ones left standing, the brakes came off and joyfully they flung themselves at their foes. However the foes were far from finished and Ayesha took a girl down with an elegantly devastating uppercut. Ox and Trouble battered another one to the ground but before the judges stopped the action to remove the fallen, two more of the Orange team bit the dirt as well.

The pause in the action was long enough for the conquerors to enjoy the fruits of conquest and so that the crowd could savour some salacious close-ups on the giant screens. Then it was back to business and there was no stopping until only the four CSL slaves were left, facing no fewer than twelve of the Girl Squad.

Tony suddenly realised he was gnawing his knuckles. Whichever team finally won the whole games, CSL would come out with credit – but he could see that things might never be the same at The Lodge if Amelia’s and Angel’s strategy worked. He glanced across at Brian and saw that he and Craig Maddox were already anxiously scanning the events ahead.

When combat resumed, the Girl Squad hunted in a pack and left just a couple of their number to fend off the remaining CSL slaves. They targeted Ox first and all the whip endurance training she had undergone at The Lodge couldn’t help her. Five or six foes crowded round her and the spectators were treated to the sight of her skin rippling under the rapid salvos of lashes. Her big breasts swung and collided as lashes wrapped her from both sides simultaneously. Lashes curled up between her legs and wrapped her thighs lovingly but she simply didn’t have time to fall. Desperately she swung her shield and lashed out herself but there was simply too much incoming for her to deal with.

Tony’s eyes flicked up to the giant screens and took in the fact that on the terraces, women were being roasted and buggered everywhere. Others were on their knees, mouths full of cock, eyes swivelling sideways to miss nothing of Ox’s thrashing, their hands busily working at their own crotches.

Down on the arena floor, Ox’s arms dropped in exhaustion and she stood with her head bowed in the centre of a ring of foes who kept up the beating relentlessly. She dropped to her knees and still she was lashed, then she crashed forwards onto her face in the dust. Even then the excitement of victory led several of the Girl Squad to continue to ply the lashes until the judges pulled them off and dragged Ox away.

The compere addressed the crowds over the PA once the cheering had quietened sufficiently.

“Ladies and Gentlemen! I think we can safely assume the Girl Squad have won this event, don’t you? I’m sure you don’t want to see the last three girls suffer unnecessarily!”

The crowd gleefully joined in the pantomime and bellowed that, yes they did.

“But it can only be a matter of time now! I think we should call it off!”

The answering bellows nearly lifted the terrace roofing.

Of course the pause had only served to give the girls a chance to catch their breath, thus ensuring a longer and slower defeat.

Fiji was the next one targeted and like Ox, she was blitzed into submission. But not before she had flung away her shield and whip, and screaming defiance had flung herself bodily onto her tormentors. And while Ayesha and Trouble had been kept at bay, a furious wrestling match had taken place between her and three of the Girl Squad while whips had continued to lash the gleaming, dark skinned body, sending up sprays of sweat and oil into the bright morning air.

Trouble lasted no longer than her lover, Ox, and at last only Ayesha was still standing.

The arena was hushed. She had been almost as good as Blondie in her hayday but since leaving the Bakhtar stable had never really regained her form. Here she faced overwhelming odds. What would she do?

All round the world, arena aficionados leaned closer to their screens.

The whistle to resume combat sounded and she ran away. Black hair flying she streaked down the length of the arena floor. Behind her the squad leaped into action.

But then Ayesha stopped suddenly and turned, crouching she sent her whip scything out towards the leader of the pursuing girls, catching across the backs of both knees and brought her down in a cloud of dust. Then she was off again, running faster than her pursuers. Again she skidded to a halt and this time took out the lead pursuer with an uppercut that lifted the girl off her feet and made her twist like a hooked fish in the air before she crashed down. The crowd surged to its feet but now the Girl Squad spread out and began herding Ayesha towards the fence. And once they had her there, cornered, the crowd was treated once again to the sight of a beautiful body twisting, flinching and spraying sweat as it was whipped until finally a series of uppercuts dropped her to her knees and while her sisters finished the job, the girl who had landed the
coup de grace
lasciviously licked Ayesha’s juice off her strap.

Then there was the punishment ritual. It was rare for the CSL slaves to find themselves at the mercy of the crowd and the crowd knew it too; and was dead set on making the most of the opportunity. A judge went to the centre of the arena and held up ten fingers. The crowd’s thumbs came out pointing down. He snapped his palms closed and then open again, signalling twenty. The thumbs pointed down again. He snapped his palms closed twice, some thumbs pointed up but the compere decided it wasn’t a majority. Only when forty had been signalled did the thumbs go up.

That evening, they would be treated to the sight of the losing team having forty lashes added to what they had already taken. Amelia and Angel had started the savage logic of the arena working in the Girl Squad’s favour.

In the holding cells beneath the arena, Amelia listened to the cheering and wondered. The only clue she got was the cheerful demeanour of the guards as they came to take the solo fighters out to compete in the first of the duels. It would be with three tailed martinets today, the tails had been carefully weighted to add thud and snap to the square cut lashes. She prowled around her cell with her companions, listening to the noises above them and imagining the scenes being enacted. But it wasn’t until almost the end of the first morning that she got to see daylight when they were taken out for the mass log pull.

As the slaves were piled into the dressing room and the grooms and guards rushed about oiling them till they shone, Amelia saw two of the solo fighters helped back in and Doctor Hooper start checking them over on the medical bench. She reckoned the Orange team had struck back. It wasn’t unexpected and Angel didn’t look too perturbed as she stood behind the vet and watched her treat the welts and bruises.

The door to the tunnel was thrown open suddenly and the whole squad crowded through into the twilight of the tunnel, already thronged with the Orange squad. There was much male cursing and snapping of whips as the girls were herded out into the blinding light and then guided towards their own telegraph pole sized log. Amelia stood quietly, waiting for her turn to have her wrists fastened to the heavy chain. On the terraces she knew that men and women would be manoeuvring towards a fancied partner for sex during the upcoming minutes. The mass log pull was a whip fest. Pure and simple. With two hundred naked female bodies, sweat and oil gleaming, toiling under the whips as their breasts swung and the lashes laced their backs, making their hair toss as they registered each impact. Some girls would grimace as they fought off the climaxes the flogging was driving them towards, others grimaced as they dealt with the pain in more cerebral ways, enjoying the humiliation even as they endured the pain for the pleasure of others.

“Lift!” The judge’s voice cut through the air and the crowd subsided into watchful anticipation.

With crisp precision both squads hoisted their chains onto their shoulders and turned to face the front. Amelia, standing to the right of the log, settled the chain onto her left shoulder and leaned forwards as she took the strain. The girl in front of her was a striking Scandinavian blonde with a bottom that Amelia had loved kissing after a day under the whip. It would make for good viewing today as she would be close to it as it was flogged up, and then back down the length of the arena floor.

Each guard had five slaves to drive and Angel had drilled them into rhythmical accuracy in response to her commands as she perched on the log at the back and called the strokes. Amelia shook her hair back and glanced round to catch sight of her trainer, balanced and composed, standing on the log ready to drive her squad. She wore a short leather skirt and a leather waistcoat that strained across her breasts. Amelia caught her breath at the surge of lust she felt as watched Angel unfurl her whip.

The judge marched out in front of both teams, raised his pistol and fired it.

Instantly, in time to rhythmic shouts of; “Pull!” from Angel the whips began to fall. To start with, both lines, either side of the log planted their feet wide apart and swung the chain from side to side to ‘break’ the log from the dirt. They had been drilled into swinging left first and then right.

The rhythm of the calls accelerated as Angel felt the log begin to respond. The whips fell faster, the guards passing up and down their small sections of the line and lashing in exact time with the shouts. The slaves began to drive their paces forward more and felt the huge weight begin to stir.

Amelia only had the quivering globes of the buttocks and the straining thighs of the blonde ahead of her to look at as she hauled. But as the log moved so the girl leaned further forward and Amelia was given a view of the neat-lipped cunt she remembered fondly. It only made her wetter to think of the girl behind her having a similar view, and of course the crowd would be enjoying close ups on the video screens.

Meanwhile the whip stung her as it bit across her buttocks and shoulders, its thin leather tails leaving welts that the sweat ran into and stung. Before she had taken ten paces her hair was a matted tangle and sweat dripped from her nose. The broad hips of the girl ahead were already reddening and her buttocks were deliciously striped.

Another lash cracked across Amelia’s upper back and she grinned as she felt her belly moisten even more. There would hardly be a female hole that wasn’t being filled on the terraces right now. And later on, she would get her share. For now, she was just whipping flesh and loving it.

It seemed endless. Her chest burned, her legs felt they wouldn’t support her and her breath hurt her throat. Even she was beyond any pleasure in the beating she was taking by the time the cry of; “Halt!” let them drop into the dust. And once it stopped, it felt so good! Her skin burned and stung deliciously. The sides of her breasts had taken several heavy thuds and throbbed excitingly and her thighs had also taken some well aimed encouragement in the final yards.

“You beautiful bitches!” Angel cried, striding along the log towards its front. “You lovely sluts! You won by two feet! Now take us home in style or I’ll flay the lot of you first chance I get!”

Amelia exchanged wry smiles with the blonde next to her as they knelt up and waited for the drinks to come round.

The compere began calling out numbers and the lucky owners of those tickets began to scramble down the aisles to collect their prizes. While they were doing that the guards set about delivering what any well-flogged slave needs; a hard shaft of rampant cock.

As the Girl Squad had a fair few female guards, some of the less fortunate slaves had to content themselves with a mouthful of foraged –for cunt juice.

The lucky prize winners helped out with this chore by providing genitals for the slaves to caress and the crowd was entertained by mass blow jobs and cunnilingus. On this occasion, Amelia got a female member of the audience, her closest guard being sunk up to his balls in the generous mouth of the blonde next to her. The woman who presented herself in front of Amelia as she knelt on the sand was dishevelled, her hair tousled, her face flushed and triumphant and her T shirt was torn, revealing her left breast. Her short skirt was crumpled and her rather tubby thighs were streaked with sperm. She grabbed Amelia’s hair with one hand and lifted her skirt with the other, spreading her legs as she did so. Amelia went to work willingly. She just wished she could see the screens and watch herself being humiliated. The girl yelled in jubilation as she briefly became the centre of attraction and the cameras found her, just as Amelia’s tongue finally found its way through the wet, fleshy folds of the clit hood and lapped at the hardened little nub. It was a superb torment for Amelia, her hands were chained so there was no possibility of any relief for herself, but in between the plump thighs, the woman smelt and tasted so sweetly of depravity. As Amelia buried her head farther into the woman’s crotch and licked up into the vagina, it drizzled a thick stream of fragrant juice laced with spunk onto her tongue. She had obviously been fucked repeatedly all morning and Amelia couldn’t help wondering, as she used her ring to fetch groans of contentment from above her, how many cocks she had sucked to climax as well.

Eventually Amelia made the woman climax by grinding her ring and tongue against the woman’s clit but she was thrown backwards contemptuously as the cunt finished spurting over her face.

At last there was water though, a bottle was passed along the row of kneeling slaves and although Amelia could have swilled the stickiness off her face as well as quenched her thirst, she chose not to.

The winning margin was a mere foot on the return run. And it went to the Girl Squad.

Chapter Eleven

As the sun set on the first day, Amelia and Seventy-six, gasping around their bits, their skins burning from the whip, muscles protesting, brought their rig home in third place in the two-in-hand race. Six rigs had competed on a roughly circular track that took them through shallow, muddy water, along tracks that ran between trees so tall and close that it was almost dark, across meadows of lush grass, through mud pools and finally brought them back to the well mown turf surrounding the arena complex. Every inch of the track had been lined with spectators as the girls had galloped under the lashes round five laps.

At one point, Amelia’s rig had led but then Jet and Blondie herself had overhauled them. Even snatched glances from behind her blinkers made it clear to Amelia that the slaves were cruising and on the final circuit they had been passed by Sam and Legs. Amelia had been alarmed by their driver who seemed to be using the whip too much for this early in the competition. And where was the point in passing your own team? These thoughts went round and round Amelia’s brain as her breath rasped and thundered in her ears as she pounded grimly for the line. It was only once she had been reined in that she remembered where she really was. The show was the thing! The driver of Legs and Sam’s rig obviously knew they could take plenty of whip, so he gave it to them and put on a good show.

As they were led away to be hosed down and fed, Amelia heard the compere announce that the Girl Squad held a narrow lead as the single pony races got underway and she saw Purdy being lined up against Ayesha and Cherry being lined up next to an athletic looking blonde belonging to the Orange stable. There was no reason that the Girl Squad couldn’t end the first day with their noses ahead.

Tony sat back and stretched until his joints cracked. He hadn’t realised how tense he had been, but now the first day was over and he could relax. So far, so much better than they had dared to hope.

Angel joined him and Sadia in the owners’ box and Sadia’s hand immediately crept up the trainer’s tanned thigh and slid under the leather skirt. Angel shifted her bottom and slid forward enough to allow penetration. Tony watched in amusement as her face softened.

While the races had been held, there had been more action in the arena; the two slave log pulling contests. The Orange team had had to field Ox and Trouble as one of their teams, despite the pounding they had taken earlier on. Once the team lists were handed to the judges at the start of the day, there was no changing allowed. The Girl Squad’s teams of slaves had narrowly won in two of the pulls and lost the third. One of the wins had been over Ox and Trouble who now faced a further pounding at the whipping posts for losing. Tony doubted Brian would allow them to be entered for anything on the second day and even the third day was doubtful. Amelia and Angel’s tactics looked to be working well.

As he watched Sadia’s wrist flex as she rubbed her hand up and down Angel’s slit, he realised that the beatings he had witnessed had left him with an erection that was urgently in need of attention. The arena was still filing up as people returned from the racing and took their seats for the punishment session. He left the owners’ box and went in search of a spare female.

In the dressing room he found Eve was busy with hosing down exhausted competitors and leading them back to the holding cells before they were taken back to their stockade. Over by the treatment tables however, tethered by their tongue rings to the tack hooks on the wall were Amelia and her partner in the two-in-hand races. They were both facing the wall and Tony considered their back views before making a choice. Both sets of buttocks were deliciously marked, as were the upper thighs. Their backs were also liberally striped with the narrow pink lines typical of the driving whip. He approached them and stood beside them; they briefly turned their heads as far as they could and then went back to patiently staring straight ahead. He loved the way the arena slaves were trained to know that what was done to them was none of their business, they just waited until anyone wanted them. He compared their breasts; of course he was familiar with Amelia’s tip-tilted nipples, Brian had frequently lent her to him at The Lodge. But Seventy-six’s were altogether more sizeable and the nipples stuck out smartly to attention pointing straight ahead. He made his choice and ducked under Seventy-six’s leash, unleashed Amelia and pushed her to her knees. Then he undid his trousers and manoeuvred his cock out, fed it into Amelia’s waiting mouth and set about fondling the other girl’s tits while Amelia ardently sucked on him, taking him down gently in ever deepening thrusts with her head. He closed his eyes the better to savour the feel of her mouth and throat, softly stroking every inch of his shaft. As he did so he gripped his hands in the softness of the brunette’s tits. She groaned as his fingers clenched, Amelia ran her tongue teasingly across his meatus and Tony dug his fingers in deeper, aware that her driver’s whip would have scored her breasts. Her nipples rubbed at his palms, erect and rubbery, enjoying their abuse.

Amelia dipped her head farther than before, taking him in deeper than ever. He twisted both the brunette’s nipples and pulled them hard. She cried out around her tongue ring and he began to come. He felt the pulses running up his cock and Amelia felt him swell in her throat. She held her head steady and swallowed his emissions smoothly while he bucked his hips at her and mauled the other girl’s tits even more harshly in his ecstasy. Then the storm was over all too soon and he tucked himself away once Amelia had cleaned him up. Then he tethered her again, smacked both girls on their rumps and let them get back to waiting for whatever was going to happen to them next.

Back in the arena the lights were on and out on the sand a varied array of frames and benches had been laid out. In batches of five at a time, the slaves were enjoying what the audience had wanted meted out for their having lost. The compere was calling seat numbers again and eager amateurs were joining in the fun. Some female audience members whose tickets had won them a chance to flog arena slaves were having trouble wielding the longer stock whips and were getting tutorials while the unfortunate slaves acted as targets for practice before their real beating could get underway.

Tony noticed that Ayesha, who had had to be almost carried in by a guard, having just lost in the single pony race was ankle suspended in a rectangular frame, her spectacular body was pulled into tension by ropes from her wrists. She was being seen to efficiently by a Girl Squad guard and several of the video screens had close ups of the way her gleaming olive skin flinched and quivered under the lash. Her superb buttocks in particular rippled perfectly. Her flagellator stopped and moved in as Tony watched.

“He’s giving her a rest!” the compere crowed. And indeed the man took his time delving his hand deep in her cunt, swirling his fingers about. The crowd cheered as they saw her tethered and stretched body arch and wriggle as far as it could, then the hips began to rotate and buck. Even over all the noise of the other punishments, he heard her cry out. But then the man withdrew his hand and acknowledged the cheers as Ayesha went into paroxysms of frustration at being prevented from orgasming. The man wiped his fingers on her scored thighs and then went back to delivering the rest of her beating.

Ox and Trouble were hung by their wrists, back to back and the whip was applied to their fronts. After the pounding they had taken in the log pulling and the whip melee, even the two stalwarts of the CSL team were visibly drooping as their bodies swung like a pendulum while their breasts, stomachs and the fronts of their thighs suffered. Fiji was in the last group to be put to the posts and Tony reflected that there was something about the girl’s aloofness that invited harsh punishment. They put her upside down on a Y shaped post, legs wrenched wide apart, facing outwards so the crowd could see her face. She took twenty on her breasts and belly and twenty between her legs. Despite remaining almost mute during the beating, she produced a visible spray of juice during the last few lashes of the cunt whipping.

Amelia snatched a couple of minutes’ sleep after her evening meal and was then shaken awake by a guard and hauled up, tongue leashed and led out of the stockade. She knew she had been hired out and was heading for the playrooms that would be somewhere in the arena building.

As it turned out they were on the ground floor. And as she was led in on her leash, Amelia could see the room was well equipped to provide pleasure. There were already several slaves being enjoyed by dominants of both sexes. Apart from the guards who were delivering and removing the girls, everyone was naked and Amelia’s eye was immediately drawn to the semi tumescent cocks, wagging between muscular male thighs. She was led past two men bending over a slave spread out on a rack. They were pegging her breasts which already had nipple clamps attached to a spreader bar above her. Her body heaved and arched as the pegs were added, muffled cries escaping from behind a ball gag. One of the men climbed on the rack and located his cock between her spread thighs……but that was all she had time to see as she was tugged along and finally delivered to a couple; the woman was a tall, shapely brunette, the man was thick set with a rug of greying hair on his chest. They signed for her and the guard reminded them they had paid for an hour before leaving.

The woman was greatly taken with the tongue ring and leash and just led her about for a few minutes while the man selected implements to use on her. Some of the whips he chose looked very interesting and when the woman finally got round to feeling her, she was able to slip her fingers in with no problem at all.

They shackled her wrists to the arms of a wall-mounted X cross, with her back to it and the man beat her breasts and stomach with a wickedly stingy little flogger. Then they clamped her nipples and stretched the chains that the clamps were attached to up to a spreader bar above her. Then while the woman knelt and fellated him the man beat the undersides of her breasts. Amelia twisted and flinched under the stinging assault, her eyes watering, incoherent cries coming from her as the pain built and built and her ignored cunt ached for attention. She was about to scream in frustration when the beating stopped suddenly. She blinked her tears away and found the man had pushed the woman away and was lifting her legs to wrap around his waist. She co-operated eagerly and felt his fingers spread her lips as the broad shaft of his cock speared up into her. His woman knelt behind him and from the glazed look of delight that spread over his features as he fucked her, she guessed he was being rimmed as he fucked. He dug his fingers into her scorched buttocks as he came and she toppled over into the release of orgasm as well. After that the man took a back seat and let the woman loose on her. She put her face-up along the top of a bench and sat on her face while she used a suede tailed flogger between Amelia’s spread thighs.

She tongued the woman to several orgasms and her mouth was awash with rich tasting cunt juice by the time the woman finally fell forwards and groaned her way through another orgasm. Then the man returned to the fray and simply climbed onto her and fucked her where she lay, wrung out and exhausted but still gamely trying to take him for a ride. Only him digging his fingers into her breasts revitalised her enough to bring her to a satisfactory climax.

It was several minutes before she was able to gasp and blink her way back to full consciousness and realise that her clients had gone. However Doc Hooper was standing over her, taking her pulse and checking her eyes with a guard beside her.

“She’s fine for at least one more session,” she decided briskly and turned away. The guard presented two men with a clipboard that they signed for her on and then he too left.

The men hauled her up and turned her round before putting her back on the bench face down. She took a roasting and felt aggrieved that in the wake of the orgasm that engulfed her as both men climaxed inside her, she might miss some of what was done to her.

And so it proved. The men contrived to keep one of them penetrating her while the other one beat her or tormented her breasts and nipples. She came until she was frightened of the intensity her climaxes were attaining and was only vaguely aware of being slung over a guard’s shoulder to be taken back to her bed.

The second day of the games dawned as brightly as ever and the events got underway with combats in the pens and pursuit running in the arena. But before that, in the centre of the stockade, Amelia went through limbering up exercises with all the others, stiff and bruised, but eager for the day’s thrills.

Tony helped with the final preparations in the dressing room, oiling the lithe bodies and checking that they hadn’t gone lame overnight. Then he helped lead the chosen slaves out and tether them next to the horse corral. High boarding had been set up along the length of the arena and once the crowd who had chosen to attend this event rather than the pen contests, had settled, a judge took the first of the Orange team’s competitors from their hitching rail and led her out to the starting line. He unclipped her leash, uncuffed her hands and fired his starting pistol in quick succession. The girl jumped and then quickly fled as she remembered what she was supposed to be doing.

The crowd cheered as her breasts swung and her buttocks rippled as she ran, desperately trying to stave off defeat for as long as possible.

The idea of Pursuit Running was simple. A naked girl was hunted down by a man on horseback from the opposing team. She was given half a lap’s start before the horse was released and it was surprising how many laps a good runner could make, the arena was cramped for a horse and the sharp turns at each end of the boarding gave a girl a chance to prolong her run and improve her chances of pleasing the crowd enough to escape the punishment session at the end of the day.

Beside Tony the starting pistol fired again and the corral gate swung open. The horse, spurred on, pounded away just as the naked girl disappeared round the far turn.