THE GLADIATOR (2 page)

Tara nodded and glanced at the opposition. Their dark-haired captain was getting a similar talking-to from her big blond trainer. In the same glance she noted that more of the opposition were equipped with whips than with nets. And she understood that her squad was being handicapped for holding the high ground. Briefly she wondered how much negotiation had gone into bartering their fates, but then dismissed the thought - it was none of her business. She knew all she needed to know.

Once on top of the hill she manhandled her troops into the best order she could, forming them into a tight ring around the summit and trying to give each net wielder a whip on either side of her for cover. She kept herself out of the line so that she could lend assistance wherever it was needed but at last all she could do was wait for the charge from the widespread circle of gladiators at the foot of the hill.

And when it came the crowd seemed to surge to its feet as one and roar in sympathy with the defiant screams and yells of the attackers as they ran uphill to meet Tara’s defenders. Tara heard herself screaming wordlessly in sheer exultation as she waited for the two forces to meet and the battle to commence. This was the moment she had waited for all her life.

Tara’s net wielders had learned their lessons well and as the attackers came within range they slung out the weighted nylon webs like ropes and scythed down their targets then threw themselves onto the struggling girls. But that left gaps in Tara’s line and suddenly the two squads met in a juddering, screaming mass of heaving bodies. Tara flung herself into the fray and found that there was hardly room to swing a whip in the main press. It was simply body against body, shield against shield. Muscles strained, whips cracked wherever they could. Whip handles were used as clubs. Girls screamed and cursed - the rule of silence swept away in the excitement. Tara found herself holding off two girls, one with her shield, one with her whip arm wrapped round the girl’s chest, her forearm pressing as hard as she could make it against the breasts and the erect nipples. All round her was noise and struggling female bodies, the air was thick with the smell of sweat and leather. For a few moments the two lines swayed and fought but then the fact that Tara’s force was pushing downhill tipped the balance and with no warning apart from despairing screams, the attackers were falling back with the defenders falling helplessly on top.

At the bottom of the slope there was more space and the battle resolved itself into individual skirmishes. There was room for the whips to be swung. Tara leapt to her feet after her headlong tumble down the slope, saw a red ribboned girl beside her, swung her whip down across her back and then back handed her across her chest with her shield. She went down and Tara looked round. Immediately she saw that her girls were getting the worst of it. They had fewer whips, and down here on the flat that was a fatal weakness.

“Back up the hill!” she yelled. She had no idea of whether or not she was allowed speech out here in the arena but all she wanted was to see her opponents on the whipping posts and know she had won for her owner.

Her troops obeyed her and soon they were re-formed at the top of the hill. Some had retrieved their nets on the way back, some had stolen whips from beaten opponents and they all exchanged fierce, proud grins as they settled themselves for the next charge.

Twice more they beat off the attackers before Tara had a chance to assess the situation again. Several girls of both squads were down, either stunned or exhausted - or both. But the attackers were worn down most, she thought, and she determined to finish the battle with a spectacular strike.

She settled her grip on her whip handle and looked around at her companions. They were all looking at her - waiting for her to give them the lead. She tossed her hair back and screamed out the command to charge. The red squad wasn’t ready for this reversal of the roles and Tara’s girls came down on them in an avenging tide of naked female battle fury.

It was a rout. And Tara almost laughed with the ferocity of the joy she felt as she lashed, whirled, danced, kicked and bludgeoned her way through girl after girl until she was face to face with her opposing captain. She was striped from shoulders to knees and in places some blood oozed from where weals crossed, but she was still standing and defiant. They circled each other warily, ignoring the grunts and shouts around them but suddenly a blast of music from the PA system deafened and distracted them. They both looked around and saw that Carlo was playing his trump card.

From the same tunnel that they had emerged from, there now came an entirely new force. Male gladiators. Tara recognised Carlo leading out his guards and the big blond trainer leading out the Reds’. But what caught her eye and, to judge by the roar of gleeful approval from the crowd, theirs as well, were the leather strapped, erect sexes which jutted from each man’s loins. The stiff, rearing columns of maleness wagged as the men ran and began to encircle the struggling females. With professional calm, Tara assessed the whips the men carried - they were multi lashed with short, flat-bladed tails. Not designed to bring a girl to her knees in one or two lashes, she realised. No, what Carlo had in mind was a prolonged spectacle which could only end in one way. She looked again at the swaying erections between the strong thighs and licked her lips, aware of the fire in her own loins. Fighting and competing always turned her on, but to fight out here against men who would inevitably win and claim their prizes on the floor of the arena was the stuff of her most treasured fantasies.

The cruelty of the trick Carlo had played on the girls only made the masochistic fires in her belly burn with even fiercer heat. He had deliberately set the two squads up to batter each other into exhaustion before revealing that the battle had not mattered at all. What was happening now was the main event.

A big, black haired, bronzed man she didn’t recognise was sidling towards her, his whip at the ready, the thick pole of his sex rising from the black thatch at his crotch, its strapping both inviting and terrifying her. She abandoned herself to giving the best show the crowd could ever have dreamed of witnessing and threw herself at him, yelling and swinging her own whip. With contemptuous ease he swatted her lash aside with one forearm and swung his own lash in to lick around one hip and wrap into her already scalding buttock. Then she was right up against him and trying to get one knee up into his groin, but he had carefully turned his hips side-on and her knee just slid up his thigh harmlessly. He gripped her whip hand’s wrist in his own crushingly strong one and let her feel the rigid shaft of his cock press against her stomach as he held her to him. She arched her back and squirmed, determined to fight to the last, but he squeezed until her whip dropped from her fingers. Then he dropped his own and wrapping his arm round her waist he lifted her easily off her feet and lowered her down onto his thick, leather-ridged shaft. Despite his augmented girth he slid easily into her and she yelled in a confusion of defeat and delight as she felt her labia spread wide and her tunnel filled and stimulated along every inch of its length as he pushed further and further into her. She melted against his muscular stomach as at last she felt the cock stuff her to what felt like her very cervix and she threw her head back, wrapped her arms and legs round her conqueror’s body and let him take her.

Holding her by the hips he effortlessly lifted and dropped her time and again, his leather strapping wreaking havoc inside her and sending her whirling out of time into a maelstrom of repeated, multi coloured, ecstatic explosions. And when at last he held her hard down onto him and began his own thrusts towards orgasm she ground herself fiercely against him, willing him on to spurt every last drop of himself into her.

But she had hardly finished screaming her pleasure to the sky before she felt herself lifted and cast aside. Her innards were emptied so quickly and thoroughly that for a few moments all she could do was lie on the sand and gasp like a landed fish. As she gradually came down though, she became aware of the crowd’s baying once more and all around her the sounds of male and female pleasure, underscored by the grunts and cries of struggles as her fellow slaves fought their way to inevitable defeat - determined, just as she was, to go down playing their full part in the spectacle.

She got to her knees but was hit from behind and pushed down onto her forearms, immediately another of the fiendishly enhanced rods of manhood impaled her and she bucked and yelled as her contracted vagina was forced open again. But with only a couple of strokes the unseen man subdued her and she found her herself grinding and rotating her hips hard against his stomach as he thrust. She felt his hand bury itself in her hair and yank her head up so that she was staring up at one of the giant video screens. And to her dazed excitement she realised that one of the cameras had zoomed in on her. It was filming from the side and she could see herself, just as she had always imagined, bruised, dirt-streaked and whip marked, her full breasts hanging ripely beneath her and rippling under the thrusts from the man kneeling behind her and bracing himself by his grip on her hair. Vaguely she registered the announcer’s voice calling the crowd’s attention to various scenes being enacted all over the arena, then her attention was returned to her own internal state when suddenly the man withdrew and again made her yell with frustration and discomfort. But up on the screen she could see his rigid, gleaming shaft now poised just behind the curve of her buttocks. He leaned in a little and she felt - and watched - as it rubbed between the striped mounds. She gave a wordless cry of protest as she realised what he intended. The crowd realised as well and a gleeful cheer went up from those watching this particular bit of the show as he reached down to aim himself at her back passage and then begin to push.

Still held by her hair, Tara was again forced to watch as well as feel the pillar of hard flesh begin to shoulder her reluctant sphincters open. But suddenly the cameras changed and she found her herself watching her own face as she grimaced and gave a strangled moan between clenched teeth as she experienced the contrary feelings of discomfort and dark pleasure which she felt whenever a man enjoyed himself in her tighter passage. But then with a searing plunge he was fully inside her and yanking even harder on her hair he rolled over and pulled her on top of him. For a second she lay gasping as her body twitched and spasmed in the aftermath of the thrust but then his hand left her hair at last and together with his free one, reached instead for her breasts. They had been thoroughly ploughed by the whips of her driver and her opponents over the past day and a half and she shrieked with anguished pleasure as he roughly pulled and twisted her nipples between finger and thumb while digging his other fingers deep into the main meat of the breasts themselves. It made her arch her back and lessen his anal penetration for a second, but then he thrust up into her again and she accepted this new conqueror and the pleasure of another defeat. But as she moaned in acquiescence she saw a familiar silhouette loom over her. It was Carlo. Quickly he knelt between her spread legs and Tara knew that she was to become the meat in a sandwich of two powerful bodies. It was something she had experienced before but out here on the floor of the arena, it assumed even greater eroticism and she arched again to welcome this new penetration as Carlo’s weight pressed her down onto the man beneath her and he crushed his hands even harder into her breasts. Carlo grinned down at her as she gave an involuntary moan in response to his first full thrust which rubbed exquisitely at the septum dividing her two passages. Being doubly shafted by real cocks was in a different league of pleasure compared to being doubly stuffed with dildos and she began an immediate and instinctive bucking motion with her hips, alternating between the contrasting but strangely complementary pleasures of her double penetration.

“Go on, Blondie!” Carlo urged in a hoarse whisper. “Give ‘em a show! You can take a lot more before you go to the whipping posts!”

The only answer she could give was in the form of an increasingly urgent thrusting with her hips. But when Carlo began to reciprocate she dissolved into incoherent cries as, once again she was whirled into a chaos of blinding ecstasy by the shafts inside her and the two powerful male bodies which pinned her between them.

It took her a long time to totter to her feet after they had finished with her and cast her back onto the sand. But once upright, her heart swelled with pride as she saw that all around her the girls were making the men take them to their limits before enjoying their victories. A creditable number were still on their feet and still putting up good fights, taking repeated lashes but refusing to go down. Scattered about were prostrate female bodies, some panting in the aftermath of being defeated and then taken, others still lying under or kneeling before their conquerors. And everywhere, it seemed, her eye was drawn to the indefatigably erect cocks with their devastating lacings. Up on the screens the cameras were zooming in on them ramming between spread labia or disappearing between lips opened to their utmost or sinking into the puckered little craters between heavily lacerated buttocks. But there were still plenty of duels going on. Tara forced her legs back into action and tried to ignore the cool oozing and the inner burning at her crotch as she stooped to gather her whip once again and looked for a new opponent and a new defeat.

After that she could recall very little except isolated incidents; she knew she had fought again and again, however cruelly the men played with her before taking her - snaking their whips up between her legs which she had to spread wide to keep her balance by then - she would slowly stagger to her feet and invite another lesson in submission. She vaguely recalled being taken from behind while two more men stood over her and showered her back with their spend. She knew she had knelt and sucked on the richly flavoured cocks of several men. And then finally there had come the time when she had staggered upright from another double shafting and looked around to see that she was the last one standing.