Last Slave Standing (12 page)

Chapter 10

Hank, Carlo and Brian were up early on the morning of the final day. Every slave had to be inspected for damage and/or lameness. The grooms led the CSL slaves round the compound on their tongue leads while the two trainers gazed critically at the welted slaveflesh. All things considered they had not fared too badly, none was limping once initial stiffness had been worn off. All their limbs could be manipulated properly and Carlo pronounced himself happy once Brian had put the line of ten naked females through their morning regime of stretching, bending, twisting and then twenty press ups to round off. He passed down the line clipping wrists together while the grooms served the morning feed.

“If the Salazar team loses today, Brian. I will pick three of these beauties at random and they will spend two weeks in solitary confinement when we get home.” He grinned and smacked Ox’s flank hard. No one was sure how many of the slaves understood English, but Brian could see that some of the eyes widened nervously and tongue rings clicked against teeth. It was not to be thought of that a mere fighting slave would ever be talked to directly other than in the way one might talk to any other animal, but they were frequently talked across if a trainer wanted a point driving home especially hard. The solitary confinement cells were no more than grille covered pits that the two men had dug in the woods. All the slaves had spent at least one day down in them, just to let them know what ‘solitary’ meant.

“And that’ll be the least of their problems! When they get an eyeful of the funfair, they’ll be begging for solitary!” Brian played along as he knew Carlo wanted him to, and his boss laughed harshly. This time there was a more pronounced stirring in the line. The slaves, whether or not they understood English, could tell by the voices and Carlo’s laughter that defeat was not an option for them.

The Bakhtar stable, over a year previously, had introduced an innovation which solved the arena owners’ one financial problem: how to cut down on the amount of money that walked out of the estates after the closure of the shows, in the pockets of successful punters. The losing stable displayed its stock and allowed the crowd to play with them as it dispersed – for a price. It had proved extremely popular and profitable and both Brian and Carlo knew that under some tarpaulins behind the arena, Alberto Salazar had something that would test even a fit and fresh slave to her limits, let alone the welted and exhausted wrecks that would emerge the morning after the final day of a three day show.

However, despite all the CSL slaves being fit and Blondie and Jet’s best efforts in the chariot racing finals, by mid morning it looked as though defeat might be on the cards. Brian had to accept on the final race that there was no point in thrashing his crew any more. He and Carlo had called it wrong. They had put their two best runners and fighters in for too many events and the unexpected hardiness of the scarlet and blacks had been too much on the last day.

In the pens, Rose was easily beaten in the wrestling and Legs fought a hard boxing bout but lost after nearly half an hour’s brutal scrapping. The crowd loved it but the Salazar team trailed as the final bouts in the arena got underway.

In the studded whip duels they did well enough to almost repair the damage done by the chariot racing, fighting with so much resolve that Brian was sure Hank had shown them what was under the tarpaulins. Tigre, Ox and Trouble were fielded in the final duels and swung the heavy leathers with their studded ends to good effect. By the middle of the day the teams were dead level. And they stayed that way until only the finale was left.

Usually the finale was staged for the fun of it, the entire stables were flung at each other and then the men came in to finish off any slaves still standing and then fuck them for the delectation of the crowd, who, aided by the scenes of close up debauchery on the huge video screens, would be in full orgiastic frenzy themselves. Brian loved it. So did all the men, it was a rare chance to indulge in exhibitionism, athleticism – many of the slaves still had plenty of fight in them – flagellation and sex all at the same time. However, this time there would have to be a serious purpose to it before the fun could begin.

During the rest period in the hottest part of the day, Brian and Carlo attended a meeting of the stable owners. A coin was tossed and Alberto called it correctly. His was then the choice of whether to attack or defend. He shrugged and turned to Hank and Carlo

“I am a gambler, gentlemen. And besides I believe we have the better team. We attack!”

The die having been cast there followed a heated discussion about the weighting of weaponry for the opposing teams. Eventually it was decided that the attackers would have a third more whips than the defenders, but the defenders would be allowed to wield a half dozen of the studded whips amongst the mixture of whips, nets and staves they would be armed with.

Out on the arena floor, the Salazar guards were pushing prefabricated sections of wooden palisades into position so that they built a wall about ten feet high across the arena. The Salazar team would charge it and using ladders they would attempt to fight their way up and over the wall. Originally it would have merely been an entertaining spectacle as the naked slaves struggled and fought en masse until the men decided to have their fun. But today, everything would depend on whether the defenders could be dislodged or not. Once that had been decided, then the fun could start.

After a short rest, the slaves were gathered in the dressing rooms of the arena, the atmosphere was even more tense than normal prior to a final melee. Brian ran his hands over some of the nervously sweating slaves. Every nipple was standing proudly to attention at the prospect of imminent combat, suffering and sex. Every pair of thighs he delved between harboured a warm and moist little tunnel, just waiting for a master to fill it.

On the monitor screen they could see the defenders taking their positions on the walkway behind the palisade which gave them cover up to their waists.

Then at last the door into the tunnel was opened by one of the scarlet and blacks’ guards.

“Showtime!” he said simply and smiled.

Whips and weighted nets were handed out as the slaves filed out and ten ladders were given out to be carried on shoulders. It was dim in the tunnel and Brian couldn’t see which slave’s breasts he was fondling as his own nervousness made him restless. They could hear the compere’s voice as he whipped up the crowd into a frenzy by sketching out the scenes they would shortly witness. Brian knew from personal experience how the sexual tension would be growing on the terraces. There would be no woman clothed by now, some would be masturbating frantically at the thought of the suffering the slaves would shortly be put through, some would even be scratching and scoring their own breasts. The men would be waiting until the action got underway before they began taking the women; it was common knowledge that they often became uncontrollably excited at the sight of the mass combats and connoisseurs of the arenas swore by the quality of the resulting fucks.

At long last the gates swung open, light flooded into the tunnel and the arena erupted. All the guards began to urge their charges on and unfurl their whips as the naked mass of females pushed forwards, jostling each other in their eagerness to get at the enemy. Whips were plied anyway and as the mass of nearly a hundred slaves began to fan out onto the sand and their eyes accustomed to the bright daylight, they began to jog and then to charge towards the palisade, behind them their trainers snapped whips at their quivering bottoms. Suddenly they were all up to full speed and a stampede of naked furies, screaming incoherent defiance, flung itself towards the wooden wall.

As the owners had agreed, the two squads of guards would hang back and wait to see if the attack was successful or not. Once the outcome was clear, then they would move in. Brian slowed down and furled his whip again as the squad took off and he turned his attention to the giant screens. The heaving breasts and nervous faces of the defenders were being featured but then the cameras began to pick up the breast swinging, screaming horde descending on them. He saw Tigre, her eyes alight with vicious excitement as she swung her whip over her head. Blondie ran with her normal long stride, she carried a weighted net and was beginning to swing that as she singled out a target. Then suddenly the wall was reached the ladders set up and combat proper began. Brian had his usual painfully hard erection and like the other men he pulled down and kicked away his shorts, but not before he’d removed a studded cock ring from the pocket. Around him, men were stripping down for action, some were strapping their cocks with thick leather, some like him had opted for rings. Some had piercings through the shaft, just behind the helm, some had Prince Alberts going into the meatus and exiting on the underside of the shaft. But all were erect and eager to get amongst the throng of struggling bodies the cameras now roved across. Brian frowned as he saw Purdy spin and collapse backwards off the wall as a studded whip raked across her breasts. Jet briefly featured as she reached the top of a ladder and took a thrust with a staff full in her stomach, she went backwards and took several others with her. Cherry got a swinging uppercut between her legs but weathered it and slammed her attacker across her breasts with her own whip. Inevitably one camera sought out Blondie and Brian’s doubts of the previous day evaporated. The tall blonde had wrapped up a defender in her net, got her whip off her, thrown her down off the wall and was now calmly working her way through the enemy. With an economy of movement and a professionalism that was almost breathtaking she was firing lashes between spread legs as slaves fought for balance or purchase and then using her forearm across their faces as they reared back. If they failed to go down then she swung another lash across their breasts and dismissed them with a powerful kick. As the camera watched, she disarmed an opponent and the crowd cheered as she came up holding a studded whip. She took a searing lash from somewhere across her magnificent tits and then went down under two scarlet and black slaves. For a moment the camera lingered on the tangle of legs, breasts and cunts before moving on to more scenes of desperate combat. Brian grinned fiercely as he wrapped his fist proudly round the thick girth of his cock and enjoyed the feeling of release it gave him to flaunt his nakedness before the crowd. He glanced along the arena floor to see that three of the attackers’ ladders had been thrown down but slaves were still struggling up the others, weathering the heavy lashes that rained down on them. Again he marvelled at the female ability to hate her sister-slaves and yet adore her masters and trainers, who whipped her practically every day. Carlo said that they regarded the opposing stable’s slaves as standing between them and their masters’ pride in them. And for the touch of the master’s hand, whip and cock, they would fight till they dropped. Carlo was seldom wrong about slaves.

“They do good!” Brian’s thoughts were interrupted by Juan standing beside him. The lean and muscular little man was just tying the final knot in a fiercesome crisscrossing ladder of straps up his impressively long cock. Brian looked up at the screens. Two of the cameras were behind the wall and recording a rain of bodies dropping onto the sand from the broad walkway. Some were still locked together in combat but most were defeated slaves. For an instant he saw Blondie, her fingers and thumb embedded in another girl’s vagina and anus, hoist and then throw her screaming down to the arena floor. Cherry threw an opponent over her shoulder and then the cameras found Ox and Trouble – back to back the lovers were repelling all attackers with studded whips. Their faces wore grimaces of almost mad excitement as they flogged mercilessly at the naked flesh around them.

Suddenly a klaxon sounded and the compere’s voice boomed out.

“Attackers win! They’ve taken the wall and win the show! So let the fun
really
begin!”

Like the other men around him, Brian let out a wild whoop of joy, settled his grip on his whip and charged into the melee.

The best sport was to be found in the opposition’s slaves, who would fight harder against ravishment by a trainer from a rival stable. Consequently he and his colleagues scrambled up the ladders and vaulted onto the walkway, only to leap down onto the sand and engage with the defeated slaves. On the way they waded through the scarlet and blacks’ guards enjoying themselves with the victors. Blondie, one arm twisted up behind her back by a man standing behind her was kicking her legs desperately to try and stop another man getting between them. Jet had already gone down and was on all fours being taken from behind, while a Salazar slave was lying across her back being shafted by a huge, bearded guard. She was squealing in either pain or ecstasy – or both, Brian thought – as his massive cock, sporting multiple piercings rammed in and out of her.

He leaped down to land amongst the Ukrainian stable’s slaves and his eye was immediately caught by a thick mane of red hair, belonging to a slave who was just tottering to her feet, her legs fatally spread as she sought balance. Brian flicked out an expert uppercut which scythed up between her thighs and with a screech she folded up and fell to her knees. Brian went straight to his knees as well, just behind her welted buttocks. Her hands were still clutching at her vulva but he swept them away easily, then aimed his cock down a little and thrust straight and hard. She was so wet he hardly knew he was inside her for a second but then his pelvis slammed against the warmth and softness of her bottom and his cock hit her cervix. He felt her grip him with practised strength as she cried out but then he reached forwards and took a handful of hair with one hand and wrenched her head up so the cameras could feast on her expression of helpless delight at her conquest. His other hand sought out her nipple and began to twist and pull roughly at the rubbery tube. For a moment he was content to let her grind herself against him while he held himself at maximum penetration but all around him he could see slaves going down to inevitable defeat and taking cocks in every orifice and he couldn’t waste a second of this heaven. He slammed back and forth in the slave until he felt himself spurt into her and withdrew while he was still ejaculating, sending some thick gobbets of sperm splashing onto her slender back, making the thick ropes of her welts glisten.