Naked Ambition (9 page)

When the truck’s engine started and it moved off, the shuffling and fidgeting got worse and Amelia realised her own nipples were achingly hard. They were on their way and after only a few miles the truck was filled with the pungent fragrance of female excitement.

After what seemed like a long time the truck began to bounce as if it were going over grass, then it stopped for a moment and men’s voices could be heard shouting. There was a clanging of metal and then the truck moved forward slowly and climbed a steep gradient. The engine’s growl echoed and then died. There were more voices and noises from outside, by the wheels it seemed to Amelia. Then at last the doors were thrown open and they could see that the trucks had been driven into a cavernous cargo plane.

Angel hoisted herself up into the truck, followed by several men who stood and admired the scenery.

“Take your pick and be quick about it! I want this plane out of here fast, we’re running late as it is.”

Amelia understood perfectly well. As always when transporting hundreds of naked women around, there was a price to pay for their discreet passage out of and into various countries. And what was the point of having hundreds of naked females if they weren’t used to pay that very price? Amelia sat up as the men began to prowl along the lines, examining the goods. She pushed her breasts out enticingly and she wasn’t the only one. Every girl on the truck was wiggling and pouting and inviting the men in any way she could. The men themselves laughed and exchanged comments that Amelia couldn’t understand, but could guess at the meaning of perfectly well.

Suddenly one man stopped in front of her and reached down. She watched his brown, work-calloused hand touch the lightly tanned skin of her breast and a shiver of pleasure ran down her. He squeezed her flesh hard and she shuddered in masochistic excitement. Then he flicked her uptilted nipples one after the other, smiled at her as they hardened and called out to a guard who came and unfastened her chains.

Amelia stood up, well aware of the envious glances from either side of her, and followed the man to the open doors at the back of the truck. He jumped down and lifted her down courteously after him. But that was the last of any courtesy.

He held her close with one hand and the other dived unceremoniously between her naked thighs. Amelia had expected no less and had already spread them wide for him. His thick fingers slid up into her and she moaned in appreciation, resting her head against his sweat-redolent shirt. He called out to his mates as he twisted and swirled his fingers inside her and there was more coarse laughter. She could guess the girls they had chosen were being called whores and sluts as they opened their legs so easily and welcomed in any man who wanted them. Amelia was perfectly happy with that description. Proud of it even.

She slid her hand down between their bodies and ran her looped fingers up and down the long and thick bulge of his cock inside his work trousers. He smiled down fiercely and pushed her away just enough to free his hand from her cunt and instead grip her breasts and twist her rock hard nipples.

After only a few seconds though, he had had enough of feeling her up and spun her around to face the side of the fuselage. She reached out and grasped the horizontal steel bars that ran between the thick stanchions, then thrust her hips back at him and arched her back prettily. She knew her backside was good and her legs too, so it was no surprise that when she looked over her shoulder she saw a truly impressive length of cock being freed from his trousers. All along the fuselage there were girls being put to use and Angel walked up and down behind the men. She stopped by Amelia’s man and reached down to give his shaft a squeeze or two and peel back the foreskin.

“That should stuff her to the hilt!” she said and slapped him on the shoulder before moving on. Amelia felt the broad dome lodge itself at her entrance and then be rammed into her. She braced herself to withstand the thrust and cried out in pleasure as she felt her sheath stimulated up its entire length.

“Come on, lads!” Amelia heard Angel’s voice echo from the far end of the fuselage. “Fuck my bitches good and hard and then get ‘em back in the truck. They’ve got a living to earn!”

Amelia’s man, even if he didn’t speak English seemed to gather the gist of what was said and delivered a fuck that was as hard and as fulfilling as anything she had had in the recent past. His pelvis slapped against her buttocks time and again and the ecstasy that engulfed her from her cunt made her scream with relief. The fact that he used his huge hands to maul her breasts just as she was about to drown in overload nearly brought her to her knees as she came and then came again and finally came one last, mind blowing time as he spurted himself into her and pulled out. She tottered forwards and rested her forehead on the cool steel in the wake of the fuck but as she slid gently to her knees, her hair was grabbed and she was turned around. His still semi-tumescent cock was before her, gleaming with his spunk and her discharge. She opened her mouth without a qualm and licked him clean, taking long, luxurious licks, savouring every swallow of the mingled juices.

“Load ‘em back in now, boys!” Angel shouted as presumably the final coupling had been completed. Amelia and the others from her truck were picked up bodily and thrust back then chained back down. On either side of her, Amelia could see her sisters’ eyes devouring the sight of the shiny trails on the insides of her thighs. She grinned back at them and licked her lips lasciviously.

When the aircrew came to take their payment, Amelia was pleased that Seventy-six was one of those chosen.

Chapter Eight

The flight was a long one. In relays the slaves were taken out to use the toilets and be fed, then put back. They slept as best they could as the engines droned thunderously and then again they were taken out, watered, fed and put back. With no portholes, it was impossible to gauge the time they were airborne and impossible to estimate whether they were flying with or against the sun.

But at long last they felt the thump of the landing gear going down and the plane lurched as it began its approach. Amelia’s heart thundered in her chest and she could see her own mingled anxiety and excitement mirrored in her sisters’ eyes as they tensed themselves for the landing. There was another thump as the wheels hit tarmac and then the engines screamed and they were thrown forwards as the brakes were applied. Finally there was the rumble of taxiing which itself died away and the plane was stationary at last. For good or ill; they had arrived at the next games.

The first thing that hit them was the heat. As the plane’s cargo doors opened it hit them as an almost physical force, even though it appeared to be early evening. By the time the trucks had been reversed out and the customs and ground staff had been paid – Amelia was passed over in favour of her big breasted neighbour, the girl she had slept beside the night before their departure – all the slaves had a slick of sweat on their skins that gleamed in the last of the daylight. The speed with which the sun set was confirmation, if any were needed, that they were near the equator. To begin with the trucks drove along smooth roads but before too long they seemed to turn onto rougher roads and the girls were thrown this way and that against each other until they came to a final halt.

For a long time they were left in the dark, the heat building to almost unbearable levels but at last the doors were flung open and slightly less hot night air wafted in, bringing with it scents that were exotic and strange and the noises of a forest alive with nocturnal life.

The squad huddled together as they were freed and lifted down. Being naked slaves in familiar territory was one thing, being naked, tired and frightened in a strange country was entirely different. It was obvious that they were much farther from home than they had been in Bakhtar. Men went about their business around them, predominantly with dark skins and high cheek bones with bandannas wrapped around their heads. Indonesia or the Philippines was her best guess and as she shook sweat off her face, she hoped Angel had negotiated a couple of days’ acclimatisation.

She needn’t have worried. They were housed in a timber stockade that had roofed shelter provided all round its perimeter, the steeply slanting roof coming downwards towards the open ground in the centre. Under the roof, there was simply a long line of shackles to which the slaves were chained with enough slack to lie comfortably on the cots provided but not enough to allow for any bed hopping. Their hands were clipped to their collars when it was at last time for sleep.

The next day dawned gloriously clear and warm, free of the previous night’s humidity. Breakfast was served by beautiful, delicately featured girls in brightly coloured sarongs to the slaves who sat at one long table in the middle of the compound. Amelia noticed that guards patrolled the tops of the stockade walls on walkways set just below the tops of the walls and on their outsides. She knew enough to know that they weren’t there to stop the slaves escaping; they were all too well trained now and looking forward to everything the games could throw at them. It was far more likely they were there to protect them from marauding local males.

For the whole of that day they were free to wander, sit in the shade, take showers and groom each other as the official grooms tended to the elite solo fighters. To maintain discipline however, one girl was accused of trying to feel another’s cunt and was mounted facing the stockade wall and given fifty lashes, then left to bake in the sun for a while.

In the late afternoon it rained. Amelia had never seen anything like the downpour that engulfed the site. The rain hammered down with such force that it threw up a mist about a foot high off the ground. It went on for over an hour as the naked girls sheltered under the roof and began to shiver as the temperature dropped. They huddled together for warmth and watched as the compound became a shallow lake. Then the rain stopped and almost immediately the sun came out, raising steam from the standing water and turning the water into thick mud if anyone tried to walk outside. Amelia watched all this in trepidation. If this was to be typical, she hoped that Angel and Sadia were watching as carefully as she was. The humidity began to soar and just as she was wringing sweat out of her hair again, another truck arrived and disgorged a batch of CSL slaves.

As soon as Amelia saw the big crates being slid out of the back of the truck, she knew what she was looking at. Each one contained a hog tied slave and as they were stacked on the wet ground, she caught sight of Sam’s flame red hair. Leaving the group of girls she had been standing with she managed to get closer to the rear of the truck and saw Legs, Blackie and Rose, then watched as Purdy was unloaded and stacked, then Cherry and finally Lucky. The men handling the crates were covered in red mud almost to their knees and the slaves in the bottom crates were also red almost to their necks.

When all the crates were unloaded, Tony jumped down from the truck, sending up a wave of more red mud, and as the truck reversed out and the gates closed after it, he began to open the crates while Eve helped him.

A strange mixture of emotions filled her as she watched them rub circulation back into cramped limbs until the slaves could hobble and then walk properly towards the only walled building under the roof which was where the grooms and the solo fighters were quartered. Angel, Sadia and Doctor Hooper, the new vet who had joined them only a matter of days before, stepped through a wicket gate set in one of the tall, main gates and Amelia listened eagerly to the conversation.

“All arrived safely?” Angel asked as Eve led Rose round on her tongue ring to get the last of the stiffness out of her.

Doctor Hooper, tall, willowy and with thick mousy hair, stepped forward and went to where the others had been tethered to the uprights that supported the roof. She began running her hands over them, slapping their flanks and smacking their buttocks.

“Good stock!” she crowed like a child in a sweetshop, moving swiftly on from slave to slave. “Excellent tone and musculature. I’d heard CSL had good slaveflesh, but these are real beauties!”

“You should see the others,” Sadia told her. “These are comparatively unblooded. But when you see Blondie –“

Amelia saw Angel lay a hand on Sadia’s arm and jerk her head in the Squad’s direction. Sadia looked from her trainer to her slaves.

“So what?” she asked. “Most of them probably never spoke English in any case. And they’ll get on with their jobs no matter who they’re put in against! Relax, Angel.”

Amelia looked on thoughtfully as all three women fussed over the bought in stock and made sure it was stabled properly.

She ran over in her mind the slaves she had seen. Sadia was right, it was the entire lightweight end of the CSL catalogue – except for Cherry, who was an elegant whip dueller and runner but wasn’t much used in the rougher, endurance and strength events. So why had Angel spent……Amelia did a few rough calculations and would have whistled had she been able to……why had Angel spent so much on lightweight and inexperienced stock when there were Ayesha, Tigre, Ox, Trouble, Beast and the others available. Not to mention Blondie herself. If they were all available then why……? Her thoughts stopped in their tracks. Maybe they weren’t available. She knew that the Owners’ Council had decreed a few months back that no more than two games should take place simultaneously anywhere in the world. And it was very rare that dates coincided at all…….and that meant……..

She was so deep in consideration of the implications that she didn’t notice Angel, Sadia, the vet, Tony and Eve walking across to take a look at the Squad. When she looked up, it was to look straight into the astonished gaze of Eve.

Of course she had known it was bound to happen and at least now, with one successful games under their belts, Angel and Sadia couldn’t possibly think she was spying for CSL or up to anything clandestine.

“Oh my God!” Eve squeaked. “It’s Amelia!”

She rushed up and hugged her. “We were so worried about you! But Brian said you’d be okay, said you knew what you were doing! Wait till I tell the others you’re a fully trained arena slave!”

Thank you, Brian, was all Amelia could think. He had seen her at the Bakhtar games but had kept her secret.

“You know this one!?” Angel asked sharply as Tony pulled Eve off and smacked her bottom hard to calm her down.

“Yeah, she used to be a part time groom and subbed to Brian Holden back home,” he told her.

Amelia tried to look Angel in the eye but couldn’t. She wasn’t clear why not, it wasn’t as though she had done anything wrong and she had had to hide her identity to be treated as the slave she desperately wanted to be.

Sadia came to her rescue and took her chin in her hand and tilted her face up, smiling at her.

“You know, she just might be our talisman after all,” she mused. “Did she spar with the others – Ayesha, Blondie, Ox, Jet?”

“Yeah, all of them,” Tony confirmed.

“Pity there’s only one of her!” Angel said. “Still, she’s a weapon they don’t know we’ve got! When we sort out the final list of entrants for each event, we’ll see how much advantage we can get.”

The group turned and moved off, Eve giving her a little wave as she left. Amelia breathed out and glanced around. Some of the others – ones who must have understood English were staring at her in awe. Seventy-six was one of them. She came across and put her arm round her shoulders, kissing her long and ardently; risking a flogging. Amelia returned the kiss. At long last her secret was out and it was alright. She was accepted as a simple slave – but one with a value beyond her purchase price. Seventy-six was reiterating her claim on her in front of the others and Amelia felt truly at home.

There was a lot to think about though. It was clear that their opposition had hired in all the rest of the CSL stock and that meant that the Girl Squad was up against the toughest fighters on the circuit. Obviously Angel had bought in what she could to fight back with but she would need all the help Amelia could give her to avoid the Squad being crushed.

Josef came for her at dusk the following day. It had been a tedious day with all the girls’ hands chained behind their backs to prevent any sexual contact. They had all recovered from the journey and were getting restive. Some of them discovered that if they jammed themselves up behind their lovers, the fingers of the girl in front could just about frot the clitoris of the girl behind. It was relief of a sort but Amelia found that the small orgasm she got left her even more bad tempered and out of sorts.

Even her admiration for the way Angel manipulated her squad couldn’t improve her mood as she stared out at the afternoon downpour.

If the arena wasn’t roofed, then some of the events would degenerate into mud wrestling. She had to admit that that wasn’t such a bad thought. She enjoyed the feel of a slick body squirming against hers and she knew how much the spectators enjoyed the sight of mass humiliation. And that was the main thing.

Josef found her with Seventy-six trying to frig her and cheerfully wielded his strap to chase her away. He had had to wield it virtually constantly as he passed through the stockade, to break up couples. He was a big man with black curly hair who was popular with the slaves. He had a hard whip hand and a big cock and was fond of using both. He was strict without being vicious and was cheerful even when dishing out the harshest discipline. He shooed Seventy-six away, bent slightly and simply threw Amelia over his shoulder, then he made his way out, one hand on her bottom to steady her.