Into The Arena (21 page)

Tara let it wash over her and just sat, enjoying the luxury of having some time to look round. They were in a small courtyard formed by the walls of their barracks and three other similar buildings, at one corner was the archway which led out to the training ground and just to the left of the relaxing girls was a narrow gap which led out to further courtyards and eventually up to the house. Suddenly, through this gap several naked girls appeared. It was One Squad.

Immediately all talk stopped and a watchful silence descended. The newcomers stalked slowly into the courtyard until they stood over Tara's group. There was real menace in their stance and Tara eased herself to her feet.

In the house, Carlo and Mark watched proceedings on a monitor screen which was showing them the whole scene. It was receiving pictures from a concealed camera under the eaves of the building which was One Squad's barracks and from which the girls had emerged and were now facing Two Squad.

"Here we go!" Mark said cheerfully. "Isn't it bloody marvellous. We let them have some freedom and they start fighting without us having to lift a finger!"

"Conor knows his business alright," Carlo agreed and sat back to see if events would unfold as he expected them to.

A familiar, black-haired girl stepped forward to confront Tara.

"Right, you slut," she spat at her. "Let's see if you're so tough without Carlo around to stop the fights before you get a good pasting!"

"What?" Tara couldn't believe what she was hearing. "The men let us off our leashes for ten minutes and all you want to do is fight some more?"

"Too right, you bitch. We were here first and if Carlo wasn't so fucking stuck on your lot we'd beat you every time!"

Tara was still trying to frame some response when the girl's fist slammed into her midriff and she went down.

It was a blur from then on. Her training took over completely; she rolled away from her attacker and was only dimly aware that around her a full-scale catfight had broken out. She came up to her feet in one smooth movement and from then on, kicked, punched and clawed her way through the heaving mass of naked girlflesh which seemed to fill the courtyard. Later she was to recall it with pleasure as the best fight to date. It was no holds barred, breast squeezing, crotch grabbing, hair pulling; everything went. At one point she found herself astride the body of the girl who had punched her first and she whooping with joy as she dug her fingers into the soft breasts beneath her and the girl twisted and yelled, trying in vain to prise her hands away. But then someone caught her a stunning blow to the side of the head and she was knocked sideways. Again she got to her feet and dived back into the thick of things; grabbing a girl who was about to jump on Jet's back and holding her arms in a full Nelson while Jet took her revenge.

Carlo switched off the monitor. "Let's get the lads, Boss. We don't want anyone hurt......yet." Some minutes later, with all the guards in tow, they entered the barracks courtyard and surveyed the scene. Exhaustion had begun to set in and the mass of struggling bodies had resolved itself into scattered duels, but fists still swung and occasionally a girl would be thrown down and left to scramble up while her opponent went to a friend's aid. But in the middle, dirt-smeared and with several cuts, her mouth bleeding quite freely, stood the tall blonde. She had one girl in a headlock and was fending off another using just one hand. Her face was a rictus of ferocious determination. Carlo smiled. None of the girls had spotted the men as they stood back and watched until really there was only one fighter left on her feet. Blondie.

Then he blew his whistle.

Tara's head jerked up at the shrill sound. She still had one girl squealing in a headlock and another on the ground in front of her, but the moment she saw the men, the joy of battle drained from her to be replaced with the cold certainty of punishment. She released her captive and stood quite still, waiting to see what would happen.

Around her, girls struggled to their feet and eventually they all stood, panting and filthy, looking like schoolgirls who had been caught out by a teacher.

Only it wasn't a teacher who now strode forwards angrily, it was the Boss. And he had complete power over them all.

"What did I tell you, Carlo?" he shouted. "You can't be kind to slaves; they don't understand it. The whip is all they respond to!"

"And they'll get plenty of that now, Boss. Don't you worry. Lads! Get 'em back in their cells. Don't matter which ones, just lock 'em up. And tomorrow they'll have a whole day of punishment for this!"

The girls were herded by whips and kicks into the two barracks and chained up in the cells. The men didn't care which barracks they went into and Tara ended up sharing with a girl from One Squad. But that was the least of her troubles. Carlo had plainly been furious, and she trembled at the thought of what he would inflict on them; but the trembling held a certain amount of shivering excitement. Carlo was at his best and most cruelly inventive when he was angry, she thought. And anyway, it had been a good fight, her tongue explored her split lip and she grinned into the darkness.

Chapter 16

As they lined up on the training ground the next morning, the girls could see some of the guards hard at work over by the pens. They seemed to be putting up new whipping posts as far as Tara could make out. Carlo strode up and down the line, plainly just as furious as he had been the night before and had them marched straight down to the assault course.

The course had been built along the stream which ran through the estate. The whole idea, it seemed to Tara was to reduce the naked girls to squirming, mud-caked figures as they struggled through the mire. There were actually two courses, each obstacle being duplicated, and previously each squad had been assigned to one course, Tara assumed that this was so they could race each other for an audience. But on this punishment day, both squads ran one course and the guards ran it with them - each man equipped with a riding crop. She had always respected the men's obvious fitness but during that long day she learned exactly how fit they really were.

As Tara and her companions struggled up the climbing nets, splashed through the water and mud, squirmed through the half-flooded pipes and swung, panting and gasping, from rope to rope across the deepest mud pit; the men effortlessly outpaced them. As the increasingly exhausted squads finished one phase, there was always a guard waiting to spur them straight on to the next with stinging blows from their crops. And when at last all the girls lay, wet, filthy and totally drained, on the ground at the end of the run, Carlo gave them five minutes' rest and then had them run the whole course again.

After that torment they were at least allowed some water before they were marched back to the training ground where Carlo told them something special was waiting for them.

The guards who hadn't been on the assault course had been very busy indeed and despite the ground-in obedience to the rule of silence, a groan went up from the dishevelled girls when they saw what their next punishment would consist of. A row of twelve T shaped whipping posts now ran in front of the taller posts that still stood in front of the pens. The crossbar was equipped with leather straps at each end and in the ground under them were mounted iron loops set about three feet apart. But what caught every girl's eye were the wooden phalluses which reared up and out from the upright posts on both sides.

"Mount them up lads!" Carlo shouted. "Two to a post!"

A guard grabbed one of Tara's arms and pulled her over to one of the contraptions, where like all the others girls, she found she had a problem. When they had finished with the assault course, the sight of the men's bodies, gleaming with water and the ease with which they had accomplished what had laid waste to the girls, had had Tara's vagina helplessly moist and aroused despite her exhaustion. But now, after a rest, she realised that it had dried and it was not going to be easy to get it lubricated enough to accommodate the girth of the phallus. In fact the thought of a rod that thick impaling her, made her cringe inside and killed any masochistic excitement she would normally have felt in the face of a beating.

"Go on, Blondie!" her guard ordered. "Get it up your twat. You can take it!"

Reluctantly, she began the preparations she could see going on all round her. Girls adopting the most blatant of postures; spreading their legs, with their knees slightly bent outwards and reaching with both hands for their vulvas, spreading their lips and frantically rubbing at their clits to try and get lubricated before they eased themselves onto the wooden prongs. Tara winced, as she let her weight slowly down onto the dildo, and saw the girl who was on the opposite side of the post do the same. Feeling her inner flesh slowly part and at last moisten as her tight sheath was penetrated, once she was filled to the hilt, without a second thought she raised and spread her arms so that her wrists could be strapped down to the top of the horizontal bar. Again she noted that the girl who was sharing the post did exactly the same. The thought of struggling hadn't entered either of their heads. The other girl was from One Squad and sported a fine black eye and various scratches from the melee the night before. But now, faced with the wrath of the men, the two girls exchanged looks of sympathy and trepidation. They both winced again as their ankles, having had restraints buckled on, were wrenched apart and fastened to the rings in the ground. It had made them settle still further down onto the wooden rods which speared up into them. Tara found that her face was almost alongside that of the other girl and she could hear and feel her breath on her cheek.

Again without really thinking, both girls bent their heads forward and shook their hair to flick it over their shoulders and off their backs. It was something they were so used to doing prior to a back lashing that it was second nature now and it meant that the man who stood behind each girl only had to flick a few wet tresses forwards to leave himself with a clear target. Once the men had done this they stepped back, and in the pause that followed, Tara looked to either side of her. Each post now had two girls spread out and mounted on it. And behind each girl stood a guard with one of the familiar multi-lashed whips. They didn't deliver as deep a burn as the ones they were getting used to in the arena, so Tara reckoned that whatever was coming would be long and sustained rather than short and sharp. One other detail caught her eye and puzzled her. Each post held girls from the different squads; she was certain that it had been done for a reason, but what it was she couldn't think.

Carlo surveyed the line of posts with deep satisfaction. They made a splendid sight, holding twenty four naked, fit and soon-to-be-very penitent girls. In a couple of hours they would be much sadder, but so much wiser. He noticed Blondie was the only one still looking around her, the rest were simply absorbed in settling themselves to endure whatever their masters had ordained for them. But not that one; she was still looking, still questioning. By the end of this day she would know just how different she was from the others. He grinned and gave his orders.

"Forty lashes each girl! In your own time, lads. Begin!"

Immediately, twenty four whips hissed through the brightly sunlit air and smacked across twenty four female backs. And after only two more strikes the training ground began to reverberate with cries and yelps in between the slashing of the whips. Carlo began to pace up and down the line, slipping between the posts to observe the work being carried out on both sides.

"Come on! Put your backs into it!" he yelled. "I want to see those cunts working!"

And soon he did, as the count mounted slowly towards ten and then climbed remorselessly onwards, he could see the true nature of the slaves reveal itself. Hips and reddened buttocks began to rotate and buck around the wooden shafts. Backs began to bow outwards towards the whips instead of arching away from them, and thighs began to flex as the girls began to thrust themselves up and down in time to the rhythm of the punishment. He paused for a second to watch Blondie again. She was working herself furiously on her plug, her head was bent down, so she could get a glimpse of the rod pumping in and out of her as she bent and straightened her legs and the whip laced her broad back with fans of pink stripes.

Tara found that her length of leg made her perform even more blatant antics than her sisters in suffering. She had to bend her legs more obviously to get the whole of the shaft inside her so she could grind her clitoris against the wood of the post. But the sensations that shot through her as she bucked and twisted her hips savagely against the whipping post while the whip itself scored bright swathes of pain over her backside, back and shoulders, were exquisite and she achieved her first climax in a loud, incoherent shout as it exploded in her loins and sent her rigid against her bonds. Her guard took a break after that and she was able, through the matted curtain of her hair to watch the other girl. It was the closest she had ever been to another girl undergoing punishment and she found the sight started her spiralling towards another climax even before her own flogging began again. She loved the way the whip landed with such a heavy smack and made the girl grunt as she was flung against the post. She could see her eyes were glazed and her face had the frowning expression of intense concentration that Tara knew preceded orgasm. Sure enough she suddenly began a series of frantic up and down lunges while the whip fell even harder and then her head tossed back, her hair flew and she screamed in ecstasy before collapsing in her bonds. Then Tara's guard began flogging again and she herself began her second journey into the dark whirlpools of tormented pleasure.

She lost count of how many orgasms she experienced. Her guard gave her no more respites and the climaxes overlapped each other in mind blitzing spasms, until she felt terrified of the next blast of delight being too much for her body to take. And when at last it appeared that she had had her ration, for several minutes she could still feel her vagina clutching and tightening around the shaft which filled it, and her hips still moved lazily up and down the slippery wood. As the world began to swim into focus, she realised that her left cheek was lying on the top of the crossbar and she was literally nose to nose with the girl on the other side of the post, their sweat matted hair was entangled and their panting and ragged breaths blew into each other's eyes. Weakly they smiled, recognising in each other the blazing aftermath of Carlo's correction and Tara began to understand what he had done and why he had been so careful about how the girls were mounted. He had wanted to show them that being in different squads didn't matter - it was irrelevant - what was important was that they were slaves. And equal in their insignificance before their master; their owner.

"Now, we're going to leave you ladies! And we're going to leave you something to think about." Carlo's voice cut into her dazed thoughts and Tara was quite sure that he wasn't finished with them by a long shot.

The guards stepped forward again and draped slender chains over the tops of the crossbars, a collective whimper went up all along the training ground as the girls recognised the clamps and weights on the ends of them. Smiling and obviously enjoying their work, the men fed two chains through steel hoops on the undersides of the crossbars and then, having tweaked and twisted their nipples back into full erection they released the spring loaded, toothed clamps over the tender flesh. Shrill cries of protest went up from each post at this fresh twist to their never-ending punishment. Tara was no different and she felt the tears start from her eyes at the stinging pain, even as she watched her opposite number have the clips on the other ends of the chains fastened to her own fat little nubs. They were now linked by their breasts and the chain stretched tautly between them, already pulling cruelly, dragging their breasts up and stretching their nipples as it ran up and through the loop, then down to the other girl.

Tara's guard stood very close beside her, so close she could feel the hard rod of his cock pressing against her thigh.

"You're in for a lovely time, Blondie," he whispered, putting his mouth close to her ear. She moaned an incoherent protest as she felt his fingers close round the right chain and tug downwards, spitefully hard. She put her head back and yelled as the sharp pain shot through her and earthed itself in her still-stuffed vagina. And that was where he now turned his attention; taking big pinches of her plump labia between his finger and thumb, he closed the spring loaded clamps over them, making her breath hiss through her teeth as she absorbed this fresh addition to the dull throb of the whipping which still enveloped her from shoulders to thighs and the pulsing daggers of pain from her engorged nipples.

She thought that the way he just let the chains, with the weights on the ends, drop to their full extent, was more than was called for and joined her own yelp of agonised surprise to those around her. But as the minutes passed after the men had given them casual smacks on their scarlet bottoms, and left, she realised that they had known exactly what they were doing. She had a raging need to climax again and saw the same look of urgency in the other girl's eyes. In unison they both sank down onto their respective dildos - and screamed as all they achieved was an increase in the agony in their breasts. The two girls looked at each other in mute helplessness - they both knew that their need was too great to be denied and they would just have to put up with the pain until it reached that magical point where it fed their arousal and sent them spinning into orgasm after orgasm. Biting their lips they began to pump themselves on their dildos, stretching their clamped nipples again and again and making the weights on their labia swing and pull even more. They reached their peaks together and at last allowed the screams which had been building in their throats to burst out as they flung their heads back and writhed and squirmed like demented puppets on the wooden prongs which were embedded so deeply inside them.

Times beyond count during that long afternoon, Carlo's lesson was driven home mercilessly. They were as much slaves of their own natures as they were of their masters, and any quibbles between them were ludicrously petty compared to the strength of their commonly held lusts and needs. There were times when Tara heard, as she approached yet another tormented climax, the weights hanging from her throbbing labia thudding against the whipping post, so frantic were her gyrations on the maddening phallus.

It was only when the sun was setting that at last the men returned and a fresh wave of screams and moans erupted as clamps were removed and blood flowed back into cruelly squeezed flesh.

Tara was one of the first to struggle back to her feet once she had been lifted down from her impalement, she couldn't have dismounted herself, her legs simply wouldn't have held her. She looked around at the littered, squirming bodies of her fellow slaves and was convinced that there wasn't one girl there who didn't now fully understand what she was. And as she limped over to get some water from the urn the men had brought, she saw Carlo prowling around with a look of profound satisfaction on his face. Some of the girls needed buckets of cold water throwing over them before they could regain their feet but at last all were watered and able to stand in a humble, dishevelled line to hear what came next.