Last Slave Standing (16 page)

Beside him John Carpenter appeared with a Housegirl, who cleared some more dishes away and then lay back, her full breasts escaping from the quarter cups of the basque. As John freed himself from his trousers she raised her legs, fumbled her thong off and then kept her legs parted so that he could finger her first and then slide his cock in comfortably with her legs up around his shoulders. Once he too was settled, his fingers kneading the heavy breasts and twisting the nipples while he gently moved in and out of her cunt, he sighed happily and turned to Carlo.

“I sent the doc down as we agreed,” he said.

“How long shall we give her?” Carlo asked as Blondie once again gave his shaft an exquisite massage with her cunt.

“It’s been an hour. She hasn’t come back with her eyes scratched out so I think we can assume that no news is good news.”

All the arenas had agreed to take on vets as part of a scheme to regulate and control the movement of slaves between the arenas. It was in itself part of a larger plan to organise the enterprises more carefully and in a couple of weeks’ time he would be attending the first Owners’ Conference to be held on Conor Brien’s estate. At the end of the conference there would be a big auction as well. He had been all in favour of proper regulation, anxious that slaves should be chipped with full details of shows competed in, points gained, punishments taken etc. Furthermore, very shortly there would be a central database in which all the information would be stored so that a potential buyer at auction could check his purchase was genuine. The only problem had come when CSL’s best qualified applicant - a full MD plus six years’ experience of sports medicine was female.

However Doctor Sands had checked out well and interviewed even better. Madame had been only too glad of extra help with the growing numbers of Housegirls and the only thing that had concerned Carlo and John had been the fact that she would have to work with Patti. An experienced and tough submissive she might be, but she did rule the stables with a rod of the finest Malacca. How she was going to take to another woman in authority was a dangerous unknown – especially as the woman in question was a dominant.

There had been only one solution.

Carlo had ordered her to stay in the stables and update all her records in preparation for the slaves being chipped the following day. As Blondie continued to grind away against him, with slowly increasing urgency, Carlo smiled at the recollection of her look of fury as Helga, Anne Marie and Raika had groomed the slaves till they shone and then groomed each other before they set off for a rare treat, a visit to the big house that would inevitably result in a lot of sex and probably some good, hot pain as well.

Once the coast was clear, Chrissie Sands had been sent down to see if the two of them couldn’t sort out a working relationship.

Chapter
14

Patti stared moodily into the glass of red wine she had poured herself. She had not felt so resentful since she had been sold to The Lodge. Carlo knew perfectly well that she had contributed as much, if not more than, anyone else to the CSL success story, but for some reason she was being left out of what would almost certainly be a fine afternoon’s shagging and maybe a hard evening in a dungeon as well. She gazed sourly at her monitor screen and jabbed at the keyboard a couple of times, adding an improbable score of two thousand points to Ox’s whip duelling tally. Angrily she deleted the figures.

There was a knock at the door and before she could answer it, it opened and a woman stepped in.

She wore a crisp, white, knee length coat, dark tights or stockings and plain black court shoes with three inch heels.

“Hi,” she said, smiling brightly. “You’re Patti Campbell and I’m Doctor Chrissie Sands. I’m the new vet around here and Carlo and John arranged this time so that we can sort out how we’re going to run this stable in the future.”

She stood four square in front of Patti’s desk and looked her in the eye as she stood up.

“I’d heard about the vet of course. But I’d expected a man,” Patti said, struggling to keep up with the woman’s self assured entrance.

“And if the vet had been a man you would have obeyed him and opened your legs when he told you to and accepted beatings from him, yes?”

Patti could only gape at the effrontery.

“So, let’s pretend I’m a man. I’ll fuck you with a strap-on, I assume you keep a few around, and beat you when it pleases me to.”

Patti came round the desk like a hurricane that had grown claws but the doctor calmly sidestepped, spun her around and slammed her back against the door, pinning her against the wood with her body.

“Patti, I know it’s hard for you to accept a female dominant,” she whispered, “but let me prove I’m worth submitting to.”

Patti brought her knee up sharply but the doctor had moved aside just enough to avoid it and Patti found her leg held up ignominiously, forcing her to hop as the doctor moved back into the room.

“Tell you what. Name your weapons and we’ll go into the training arena and sort this out. If I win, I’ll do what I want with you until the rest come back and you will work under me to help run the stable. If I want to fuck you or beat you – and believe me, I think you’re gorgeous so I do want to do both – I will. If you win, I’ll pack my bags and go this evening.” She dropped Patti’s leg and held out a hand. “Deal?”

A few minutes later two women were naked and facing each other on the hard earth floor of the echoing steel training arena. The doctor had made a particularly fine striptease out of peeling off her stockings and basque and Patti, despite her anger was feeling hot and moist at her belly. For her part, Chrissie found the superbly lush curves of Patti’s body equally distracting. They had weighted boxing straps wrapped around their fists. Had there been an audience a lot of money would have changed hands. On the one side Chrissie Sands was athletic and slender, with neat breasts; on the other Patti – despite working out several times a week - was full figured, her breasts swinging and shifting even as the two started circling each other. No holds were barred, if either woman went down, she remained fair game. There were to be no let ups or intervals and the loser would be the one who cried off.

Chrissie tried the first blow, a girlishly roundhouse swing towards Patti’s ribs. She avoided it easily and launched a straight jab that rocked Chrissie back as it hit her breastbone.

Patti’s face lit up as she realised the woman had no idea how to punch properly. She charged in, dropping one fist low, aiming to bring it up in an uppercut between her opponent’s legs but Chrissie had gone – ducked back and sideways. Patti took a thunderous blow to the side of the head and then another flattened her right breast sending shards of bright pain to earth in her treacherous cunt. She grunted but spun back out of range of further attack, realising she had been fooled. The doctor had boxed before.

Patti crooked her left elbow and dropped onto the doctor, digging it hard into her midriff. The breath exploded from the woman and she curled up in an agonised ball on her side. Patti staggered to her feet and wiped her mouth, her lower lip was bleeding heavily and her right eye was closing fast. Her breath scorched and rasped in her throat and she knew she had to finish this bitch off quickly before she herself collapsed.

Gathering herself for one more effort she joined her fists and raised them above her head, aiming for the woman’s back and hoping to wind her enough to make her give in. But even as she committed herself to the heavy downward blow, Chrissie Sands rolled again and Patti was helpless to stop herself from slamming herself down onto the bare earth. Immediately her own breath was knocked from her as a weight landed on her back and her face was rubbed in the dirt until she was choking.

“Submit, you stubborn bitch!” the doctor snarled between gritted teeth.

Patti jerked her head upwards suddenly and heard a satisfying Crack! The weight on her back vanished and she leaped up to see the doctor reeling backwards and holding her nose. Yelling an incoherent shout of rage, Patti rushed in for the kill, but the doctor ignored the bloody nose, sidestepped and tripped her. Patti screamed as she skidded over the dirt, her breasts being raked as she careered on helplessly. Then she was pinned again, but this time with one arm twisted agonisingly up behind her back and the doctor’s free arm at her throat.

Carlo loosened his tie as he stepped into the fresh air and walked out of the old stableyard, then turned and headed for the training arena. He was almost past its door and heading for the archway into the new yard when he heard the unmistakable sound of a heavy whip being plied. This didn’t fit in with any of his apprehensive scenarios and he opened the door and stepped in to find out what was going on.

It was what he called the lightweight frame – it was the whipping frame he kept beside the training ring to dole out punishments on the spot for slacking, or simply to administer floggings to remind the slaves that he could.

It was a simple triangle with a horizontal bar across it about halfway up, it was made of light timber and was propped up at the back by legs which folded out, one which was hinged from the point of the triangle and two more, one from each end of the horizontal bar. It tilted the body mounted on it away from the flogger slightly to make working on it easier and currently it was playing host to Patti’s lush form. Her legs were parted and her ankles tied to the feet of the main triangle, her arms were spread straight out from her shoulders along the single horizontal bar. Her thick copper hair was swept up and forward off her shoulders in great tousled heaps. The sides of her breasts were scored and pitted by whip stripes, her back and buttocks looked like an aerial view of tank tracks on a battlefield and she was gazing ahead of her with an expression of desperate concentration. As Carlo approached he noted the cut lip and the closing eye. He also noted the state Chrissie was in. She had chosen one of his favourite whips, a heavy-braided single lash which flattened into a blade two thirds of the way along it and from the end of the blade the leather was in tassels with small weights at the ends, it was a delight to use as it left a symphony of marks on the slave, the width of her back would be striped by the braided portion, the curve of her ribs would have wide and overlapping swathes of deeper red carved into it and farther around and at the sides of her breasts the tassels and weights would leave their calling cards.

Chrissie was gasping for breath after she slammed in each lash with what remained of her strength. The impacts across Patti’s shoulders were making her buttocks dance and ripple but she didn’t flinch or scream, just remained with her eyes fixed firmly ahead.

Chrissie fired off five lashes as Carlo approached, almost swinging herself off her feet at each one. Her nose had clearly been bleeding as well and her breasts and thighs were scratched and scraped. She saw Carlo coming and stopped, her hands braced on her knees, her breasts swinging under her as she panted.

“Jesus! That’s one stubborn bitch!” she managed after a few seconds.

After a minute or so she was able to give Carlo an account of what had happened.

“…….All she’s got to do is ask me to fuck her and the beating stops,” Chrissie finished. “That was the deal. If I won, I got to do what I wanted with her till you all came back.”

“And that’s what you want is it? To beat her and fuck her?”

“You bet Carlo! I mean look at her!”

Carlo looked. Patti was still standing at the frame and had not even looked around. She was streaked with dirt and sweat, her legs were still braced firmly and her breathing had calmed. The thing about Patti was that until you saw her naked and flogged, you never actually realised that she was a solidly built woman and just now, Carlo reflected, he could be looking at Ox or Trouble. She looked badly beaten alright but looked set to take plenty more and there was something about the defiant tilt of her chin that made him suspect there was no way she was going to lose this round.

He couldn’t afford to have her laid up with training about to begin again and the conference to attend as well. He walked round to stand in front of her. She refused to look at him and kept her face grim and determined, her eyes fixed on some point slightly above his right shoulder, but he had to agree with Chrissie, Patti was one of those women who simply look their best when in extremis under the whip.

“Oh well! If the bitch wants to play it like that……” Chrissie said and began the beating again.

Carlo studied his head groom as each lash smacked home. There was a jerk, the flesh rippled near the impact but Patti’s gaze never flinched from where it was fixed. The lash that decided him was one that wrapped her middle back, the weighted ends snapping around her ribs and biting deeply into the soft breasflesh. The breast itself almost flattened against her other one before regaining its shape and wobbling for a few seconds. It was a fine strike and spiteful craters in the skin and red tracks from the narrow leather appeared instantly. It was the kind of strike that would have even Ox or Trouble giving throaty gasps of pain and twisting in their bonds. But Patti, blinked, swallowed and remained still.

He went back round to stand beside the doctor.

“I think you’re going to have to settle for a draw, doc,” he told her. “She isn’t going to give ground even if she stays there till she’s damaged, and I can’t afford that. Why don’t you just take her down and fuck her. I don’t think she’ll object after a thrashing like that.”

Chrissie walked forwards and plunged her hand between the spread thighs, immediately the spell was broken and Patti cried out and twisted as she felt the fingers enter her.

Chrissie laughed and withdrew fingers gleaming with her juices.

“You’re a tough one, Patti,” she said and kissed her neck, then bent and kissed a welt, then another, then she sank to her knees and kissed the savagely welted mounds of her buttocks, her hands parting the globes and delving under them. Patti broke at last and sagged in her bonds, whimpering in pain and desire.

Carlo left them to it, satisfied that CSL’s team had just been greatly strengthened.