Into The Arena (22 page)

"Now you've all been well punished," Carlo told them, "I'm looking for the girl who started last night's little brawl. There's always a ringleader and I want her!"

Keeping her eyes lowered Tara glanced along the line. No one moved to either own up or point the girl out. There was a long silence.

"Very well. Loyalty is good, even in slaves. So I'll make my own choice and judge by the way the rest of you react whether I've got the right one." He was walking up and down the line now, so close that Tara could see his deck shoes passing just in front of her. Even though she knew she was not guilty and would never betray the girl who was, for some reason she could feel her blood pounding and her heart hammering. Carlo was up to something and she had a sick certainty that it would involve her in some way.

"Now I reckon that if someone starts a fight, it's someone who's good at fighting and is sure they can win....." Carlo's words set Tara's stomach lurching with terror. He was going to pin it on her!

And sure enough he came to stand directly in front of her, a few feet further away now.

"Come out here, Blondie," he said quietly.

Numb with fear and shaking with the need to scream her innocence at him, she nevertheless took two shaky steps out from the line.

"If I've got the right one," Carlo went on, "then you can all go. If not you can point out the real culprit."

Desperately and through tear-blurred eyes, Tara looked at her companions and to her horror saw them begin to shuffle away. Even Cherry never looked back. But even as she came to terms with the full seriousness of her predicament, Tara knew what was going through their minds; let Carlo get on with it, if he's got the wrong one - tough on her, but I'm not going to grass on another girl, I'm just going to keep my head down.

But understanding didn't cool her rising fury with the cowed, beaten girls who were abandoning her to her fate. She wouldn't have left the wrong girl to face Carlo alone - she was different from them; she had always told herself so. But now she knew it. And she also knew that she was about to be taken beyond where she believed her limits of endurance lay, and defying the rules she lifted her gaze to meet Carlo's. What she saw surprised her even through the roiling clouds of fury and fear which boiled in her mind. She had expected cruelty, even gloating pleasure, but what she saw was a calm look of appraisal in his dark eyes. And was there just the hint of sympathy?

She derided herself for that piece of self-delusion when she heard his next command.

"Put her on one of the big posts. Tits outwards, twenty lashes to start with and then flog her on the hour, every hour."

Tara was dragged away, biting her lip to stop herself begging for mercy. She wouldn't do that, they could flog her to ribbons but she wouldn't beg and proudly she steeled herself to face yet another bout of punishment as her arms were raised, her wrists fastened and a belt buckled around her waist to stop her from twisting away from the lashes.

One guard called out the strokes while another delivered them and Tara clenched her eyes tight shut to stop the tears from the bitter stinging of the lashes which set her breasts shaking and re-awakened the pounding in her nipples. The last five were applied across her mons and the lashes wrapped around her hips and snapped at the weals from her earlier flogging. She didn't beg but she couldn't hold back the screams. Nor could she hold back the moans of helpless delight as the guard, once he had finished his work, took his pleasure by lifting her legs round his waist and plunging straight into her flooding tunnel.

She lapsed into a kind of doze between the floggings, twice more she was awoken to take the lash across her breasts, stomach and thighs. By then it was fully dark but the floodlights were on and while sentence was carried out the lashes were called loudly by a second guard. Both times she was taken once the flogging was completed. The third time she was woken, she was turned to face the post and the lashes were laid on her previous weals. Again she didn't beg for mercy, but she knew she howled louder than ever before. To her surprise she was taken down after that one, but it was only so that she could kneel and suck at the man's erect cock. She would have welcomed the sustenance that a good mouthful of sperm would have provided, but all he wanted was lubrication so he could turn her round and take her anally before he pulled her back up and chained her again.

The fourth time she was woken, she was so dazed she almost begged. But when she saw it was Carlo, she stopped herself. The night was chilly by then and she shivered with cold as well as fear at what he might do to her. But to her amazement he didn't flog her.

"I know you didn't start it, and I wouldn't have cared if you had," he said quietly.

She stared at him aghast. What had all this been for then?

"I needed to show you what a bunch of scared sheep they are. You're different, always have been, but you needed to see it for yourself. Even that Cherry left you didn't she?"

Alone, exhausted, cold and terrified, Tara began to cry at the memory of that final betrayal. But Carlo went on.

"They need a leader Tara. And you're it."

Her head snapped up at the sound of her name. How long was it since anyone had called her by it?

"Oh yes. I know all your names, they're in your files, but it's the last time you'll hear yours. I want you to lead my squads in the show we've got coming up...."

He told her about how two squads and three solo gladiators would be arriving shortly and then how, over two days there would be competitions and fights held before the crowds in the arena and millions over the net. He told her how he had set up the fight the previous night in order to punish them all and unite them in their suffering so that from now on they would act as a team. And finally he told her he had had the lashes which she had taken called out so that the girls in the barracks could hear.

"They'll be scared shitless of you now. They know they abandoned you, so now you can lead them and together we'll whip them into shape in time for the show. And I do mean whip, Blondie. From now on you have some whipping rights. If a girl fails you, you get to punish her before I do - she gets a double dose. But if too many girls fail, then I punish you after I've finished with them, and you get all of it. Understand?"

Tara nodded. She understood; she would stand between Carlo and the girls. And she would be alone. But her heart was already soaring at the thought that she might now attract more of her owner's attention as the leader of his squads against a whole new army of slaves in the arena. She felt her stomach flutter at the thought of the cheering crowds watching her lead out the naked gladiators.

"You'll get your own quarters," Carlo went on. "And maybe some perks. But now, we'd better put on a good show, the lads have woken the bitches up so they can hear your final punishment and know what they condemned you to," he smiled.

Tara nodded again, and even managed a tight smile back. Everything had changed, Carlo had taken her into his confidence. She was special; and even specially brutal treatment at his hands was being dished out for a purpose. And those bitches listening in their barracks would find out that purpose to their cost. She would whip them into shape alright. And in the meantime she could feel the familiar liquid warmth start in her lower stomach, Carlo was going to deal with her personally and afterwards........

He reached up and freed her wrists. "You've got wonderful tits, Blondie. A bit knocked about just now but still good. Want to hold them up for me?" he asked.

Tara saw the riding crop in his belt and understood. She was working with him, he needed her to scream good and loud, and she would oblige. She licked her lips and smiled again, then reached under her heavy orbs and cupped them in her palms. They could both see her nipples standing out proud and hard to face the crop as Carlo stepped back a pace, took it out and laid the keeper on her left nipple, sending shots of tingling lust running through her whole body. Then he struck.

The earlier floggings had left her breasts hot and tender, so the bite of the crop fetched a long squeal from her and she staggered sideways, lights flashing behind her eyelids, before she could recover herself. She was down on one knee, but her hands still proffered her breasts rather than covered them.

"One!" Carlo called loudly. "Get up you bitch!" He scuffed at the sand hard, as though he were kicking her to her feet. She let her breath come in ragged gasps, as loudly as she could and whimpered as she struggled back to her feet. Carlo laid the keeper on her right nipple this time and they exchanged knowing looks before he cracked it down. Tara gave a yodelling wail as again she staggered under the explosion of dazzling pain.

"Two!"

Again Carlo made it sound like he was kicking her and again she whimpered and whined while she held her breasts out obediently for more punishment.

"Three!"

The scream was even more authentic as her left nipple got its second stroke and Tara wheeled away helplessly, careering into the whipping post and this time cradling her stinging breasts in earnest. She leaned against the wood and waited for the spots to clear from in front of her eyes. But the crop cut up between her legs from behind and sent her arching away from the post and into momentary darkness. But when her head cleared again and she found herself on all fours, she looked up at Carlo with as clear a signal as she could give that she was through the pain barrier and her body was alight with need once again. She got to her feet again, legs spread like a drunkard and cupped her breasts once more.

"Four!"

"Five!"

Somehow she held on and remembered her part in the charade. She stifled the deep animal moans of agonised delight she wanted to give and instead yelled as though she was being branded.

"Six!"

The crop cut up between her legs again and her scream was genuine as she collapsed backwards and lay at full length, unable to do more than writhe.

"Right then!" Carlo shouted for their audience. "I'll give you the rest where you are!"

And he did, playing the leather on her breasts and in between her squirming legs, while she tried to cover her orgasm with her yells.

"Ten lashes taken!" he called. "Sentence complete!" He pulled Tara up to her knees and to her delight, unzipped his flies.

Shaking her sweaty and dusty hair back, she gently, gratefully kissed the soft skin of the shaft, savouring the iron hardness beneath and cupping the heavy ball sac with one hand before closing her lips over the full roundness of the helm and mewing with pleasure as it slid over her tongue. He let her take her time and lick up and down his shaft before she took him back into her mouth and began to run her lips back and forth, flicking with her tongue now, urging him to enjoy the silky smooth caresses of the tight channel of her throat and spill himself there; taking the fullest advantage of the eager, well-whipped slavegirl who knelt before him. And when he finally did, holding her head against his loins while he thrust for every inch of penetration he could get, his thick seed pulsing out for her to swallow, she nearly fainted with pleasure.

Chapter 17

It was well into the following day and Tara had woken in her new quarters. Carlo had brought her there in the middle of the previous night and had taken her once again before leaving her. To her delight she now found herself housed at one end of the stable complex, under the shadow of the arena itself. There had been a moment of panic when she had first woken and found that her hands were free, but when she eventually managed to sit up she had found that her ankle was chained, though the chain was plenty long enough to allow her to move around. It had even allowed her to stand by her open door and watch the stables. She had observed the off duty guards weight training, and the stablegirls tending the horses, when they weren't being used by the men. And best of all she had seen the stables where the solo gladiators were housed, even getting glimpses of the grooming going on within. But then she had seen Carlo and the Boss approaching and had retreated to sit nervously on her bed while they strode in and now stood over her.

"Christ, Carlo," Mark said. "You gave her a real seeing-to!"

"Had to, Boss," Carlo replied. "She's tough enough and the others have got to be really scared of her. So I had to make them drop her right in it and leave her to get a pasting. Wait till they see her and I tell them she's got whipping rights. They'll wet themselves!"

"And she took it okay?"

"No problems. Couldn't get enough after I nipple whipped her, and she put on a good show too."

"Give her the rest of the day off and assign one of the stablegirls to her."

They both turned to leave, but then the Boss stopped. "You go on, I'll catch you up, Carlo," he said.

Carlo grinned knowingly. "Sure thing. You'll find she's got a good mouth." And with that he left them alone. Tara stared at the floor, hardly daring to breathe. Would he now, at last, take her? He was her owner after all, and the erotic import of that thought kicked off its usual turmoil deep inside her. She sat quite still as he approached, her heart thumping loudly in her ears. She heard him take his shirt off and then he stood in front of her, his hand was in her hair, pushing her backwards and obediently she lay back, lifting her legs onto the bed and letting them fall open for him. He stood beside the bed for a moment and once again examined her, kneading the flesh of her thighs, feeling her arms and especially her biceps, but then he began to examine what she hoped he would, and this time he used his fingers, peeling her lips apart and enjoying the sight of her inner ones plumply engorged, her vagina hungrily open for him, her clitoris erect and throbbing under his fingers whose touch made her gasp with desire. Then he was toying with her breasts, watching her flinch as he stroked the still tender nipples and traced the lines of the whips across the wide curves of smooth skin.

Then at last he kicked off his loafers, pulled off his expensive trousers and stood naked beside her narrow bed. He was lean and sinewy in contrast to Carlo's stockier physique and his erect cock was long. Much longer than Carlo's but slenderer, it speared up, curving backwards slightly and Tara's eyes devoured every inch of its veined, hard length. Here at last was what made everything she had been through worthwhile.

This was the man whose organisation was going to make her most secret desires come true, this man was actually going to stage full-scale games in his own arena and she was going to play a major part in bringing his vision to life. As he knelt on the bed between her spread legs and looked down at his property, Tara felt that her long journey was nearing its end. At long, long last she was in the hands of powerful men. Men who weren't afraid to command her, to take her, to punish her, to mould her to their requirements.

He slowly laid his full weight on her and made her cry out as her scored skin was pressed against the rough bedding, but the discomfort only compounded the intense pleasure of feeling her owner's hard member imperiously pressing against her willing vulva, demanding entrance. She lifted her hips and felt him slide deliciously deep into her and begin to take his pleasure there, moving slowly at first while she clenched and relaxed around him to maximise his enjoyment of his devoted slave.

Knowing that it would be improper for her to hold him, she put her arms above her head and hung onto the rails of the bedhead as he began to plunge more fiercely into her, taking one nipple which she gladly offered to him between his lips and sucking hard on it, ignoring her hiss of pain. If only it had been he who had delivered the whipping, her delight would have been complete. But even so, despite her efforts to concentrate solely on his pleasure, he pistoned in and out of her so powerfully and for so long that she surrendered to her orgasm before he reached his and rolled off her.

"Now, Blondie, Carlo said you've got a good mouth. Show me," he said, once he had regained his feet. Joyfully she went to her knees before him and proudly savoured the sweetest tasting ejaculation she had ever experienced when at last she made him spend himself a second time.

The next morning a stable hand washed and groomed her before letting her eat and then taking her to the training ground. She couldn't wait to be about her master's business, moulding the squads into a team and if any of them thought Carlo had a heavy whip hand, they would soon find out that she could deliver just as harsh a punishment.

She stalked out, through the archway she had grown so accustomed to and onto the training ground just as Carlo was telling the line of girls that they now had a leader who had the right to punish any backsliding or laxness as she thought fit. Her heart leapt as she saw the nervously bitten lips and exchanged glances of fear as she walked down the line, proudly bearing the marks of her beatings.

"Show them who's boss, Blondie," Carlo said and gestured to a trestle table on which lay a selection of the equipment they had all grown so used to.

She picked up two of the staves and disdainfully tossed one to the girl from One Squad who had started the fight two nights ago.

Nervously and with guilt etched in every line of her face she stepped forwards and the naked girls circled each other warily, making lunges and feints. But suddenly, maybe with the courage of despair, the girl launched a full attack on Tara, whirling her staff and screaming defiance she swung wildly at Tara's head. Tara only needed to sway back to let the staff whistle harmlessly in front of her eyes and then bring her own staff down, cracking across the girl's buttocks, then she used her foot to trip her as she staggered back and jabbed the staff into her stomach. She folded and Tara stood over her, contemptuously flicking the staff out of her hands and looking towards Carlo.

He shrugged and gave the thumbs down. "Pathetic. Give her twenty at the end of the session."

Next she picked out whips, not even bothering to equip herself with a shield but giving Pinkie one. Pinkie had shown promise at this sport during training, but faced with Tara, whose blood was up, she had no chance. The new squad leader simply walked through everything the girl could throw at her, revelling in the growing look of desperation on her face, before she high kicked the whip out of her hand and set about giving her such a thrashing before she went down that Carlo only sentenced her to ten lashes.

She saved the best for last though and took from the table the metal banded boxing gloves and threw one set to Cherry who was nearly in tears before the guard had finished binding them onto her fists. They didn't bother with the corsets and Tara gave an exhibition of calculated cruelty and skill so complete that Carlo had to call a stop to it, to avoid a squad member being damaged this close to the show.

Tara felt no emotion other than pride in a job well done as she watched Cherry painfully get back to her feet.

That evening, the Boss and Carlo took her to the tack room and showed her the chariots which were to be raced inside the arena. The solo ponies would race on the field where Tara had first seen them, but eight squad members would pull two chariots around the arena floor and would be up against two from the opposing camp.

The chariots themselves were much like the ones the Romans might have raced, they were lightweight and carried one man. A single shaft jutted forwards with a wide spar running across it at its front end. Two girls would do the main pulling and two girls outside them - one on each side - would have more of a steering and combat role. They showed her how these girls would wear bits which would be controlled by reins held by the driver, so they would drag the chariot to the right or left as he indicated, and as all the girls would run in blinkers they would need steering. The opposition's chariots would try to nudge them out of the way or into the netting at the edge of the arena and to combat that, the outside girls would have one arm free and a thick, studded leather gauntlet running from knuckles to elbow with which to fight off their opponents.

Tara loved the taste and feel of the leather bit which they let her try out.

"Ideally, Boss, the reins should be fastened to the nipples. That way you get a much more positive reponse. But that means piercing and we can't let fighters wear rings or even have holes where rings usually go. Anything could give an opponent a hold. But if the bit is anchored to a bridle, it should get the message across," Carlo said.

He lifted a complex web of straps over Tara's head and began to arrange them, feeding one strap over the crown of her head and buckling it at her neck to two other straps which ran back from her cheeks and in turn were joined to a chin strap on either side of her mouth. Rings with sliding clips then joined the bridle to the ends of the bit and when the Boss pulled on the reins which also ran from the ends of the bit, Tara's head was jerked sharply to right or left.

She caught a glimpse of herself in a dusty mirror which hung on the wall in amongst countless sets of leather straps and hardly recognised herself, the strap which ran over her head divided at her nose and each end joined the cheek straps, so it looked as though she were muzzled, and her teeth biting on the bit gave her a feral air, she thought.

She had been aware for some time that the presence of so many restraints and so much leather was making her moist and aroused, but when they showed her the full harness, she could hardly stifle a squeal of delight.

"We'll have to tie her," Carlo said. "They usually wriggle a bit the first time."

One of the wooden posts which supported the loft was equipped with the inevitable loops and Tara's wrists were quickly raised and shackled, leaving her with her back to the wood and watching the preparations with eager, disbelieving eyes.

This was going to hurt!

The two men set to work, always talking about her but never to her.

"Let her suck the butt plug for a bit, it'll go in easier," the Boss suggested and Tara found herself eagerly licking the bulbous shape while Carlo put his fingers into her vagina and stirred it up until it was slurping lewdly.

"Now keep her legs open for the next bit, Boss. They're inclined to get skittish at first, so hold her tight."

Tara looked at what they now held and gritted her teeth. It was a simple leather thong, but mounted on it were a thick, ribbed dildo and the butt plug and wherever the strap would be in contact with her flesh - it was studded, and the light winked off the wickedly shiny little points as they made ready to fit it. To add to her consternation there were plainly far more studs on this thong than on the one she was used to boxing in. She held her silence as the dildo was slipped into her without too much trouble, but she couldn't help grunting with effort as she tried to cope with the butt plug's girth, despite its generous coating of saliva. But at last it was all in and she could feel the two shafts filling her to what felt like bursting point. Then she did turn skittish, in spite of her determination not to. Carlo pressed upwards hard to make sure they were fully in and the Boss had to hold her thighs apart quite firmly as she succumbed to her female instincts and tried to close them.

"Easy girl," Carlo coaxed. "Save it for the next bit."

And as he fed the thong up between her buttocks and reached round her to join the buckles at her hips she couldn't restrain bit-muffled screams and moans as she felt the studs press into every inch of her labia and even her clitoral hood, then even worse, along her perineum and up the cleft of her buttocks. Carlo carried on regardless and tightened the buckles in turn, making for a few moments of struggle as Tara tried to kick and squirm. But at last it was done and the men stood back to observe her panting, moaning form.

"I can guarantee that when that comes off, she'll be hotter than a June day in hell," Carlo told his boss, grinning with delight at the picture Tara knew she made, as she wriggled helplessly, feeling the deliciously sharp pain spreading through her entire lower body. Then they added the tit straps.

Again she grew 'skittish' as Carlo swapped her usual collar for her racing one and let the studded straps hang over her breasts before he looped them round and then tightened them. She squealed into her bit and twisted under her owner's iron grip on her shoulders as she felt her breastflesh pricked at what felt like a thousand places. Then they left her to settle down a bit before releasing her arms and leading her round by her reins with her wrists clipped safely behind her back.

"They calm down pretty soon, but it takes a while to get used to having two shafts moving inside them," Carlo observed while Tara took her first few, wide legged steps. It was the oddest sensation she had ever felt. The studs at her breasts and groin had settled down to an insistent, exciting discomfort but the deep, intrusive way the dildo and butt plug seemed to shift and almost rub together as her body moved around them took more getting used to. Eventually they took her out into the stable yard and she was tethered by her reins to a rail. She looked down wonderingly at her breasts. They were redder than usual from the straps' constriction and stood out much more firmly, proudly and higher than normal. Carlo stood behind her and flicked his long whip over her shoulders to demonstrate how it could be made to snap at her nipples. To start with she flinched and twisted but Carlo stroked her back with the whip and 'shushed' her like a horse until she calmed.