Lost Property (23 page)

He looked directly at her.

It was Carlo.

Blondie let out a scream of joy as she saw him take in her predicament and form a fist with his right hand and mouth some words. She knew what he was saying. He was telling her to fight!

It was all she needed. Her Master was back.

With a roar of defiance she turned and whipped the crop out of the astonished girl’s hand and sent it flying out into the night sky.

Then she grabbed the girl between her legs with one hand, got a handful of hair with the other and hoisted her high into the air before flinging her bodily against the opposite side of the cage. As she did so a short and whippy cane was lobbed in and Blondie picked it up as she advanced on the girl. She played with her for the crowd, flicking at her thighs and breasts as the targets appeared as she feinted and danced around her victim. But still the girl didn’t give in and although heavily welted, she managed to grab the boxing strap that was next in. She waded through some hard strikes and cornered Blondie before landing some heavy, roundhouse blows to her stomach and breasts.

Blondie covered up again and crouched down as if beaten. The girl lifted her fist high to smash down on her back but Blondie came back up minus the cane. This time she went for a crotch hold and got it. The dark girl was lifted high and then toppled, wailing, backwards as she snatched her clenched fingers out of the rectum and vagina. The boxing strap was no help from then on. Blondie picked her up long enough to swing her around to dizzy her and then swing her full force into the corner. The cage juddered but the girl tottered up and staggered forwards. Blondie bent and picked her up across her shoulders to spin her again. This time her despairing scream stilled the arena as she crashed into the side and hit the floor.

Blondie strode across and grabbed her by the hair, hauling her up to her knees. The girl was dazed and only came to life when Blondie twisted a nipple savagely. The crowd’s thumbs were out and all pointing down. The tall blonde looked around and saw them. This was her realm. She was the queen of the arenas and no one in the stadium that night or who saw the fight on screen, would forget it. She bent once more and picked the girl up easily, holding her horizontally above her, then she stretched her arms high above her head, the dark girl now too terrified to wriggle.

Cameras flashed all around and in the months to come, this was the iconic image of Blondie in action. Legs braced, arms aloft, a struggling and vanquished girl held above her.

In his seat next to the baron, Carlo grinned fiercely, counting under his breath. He knew she would milk the moment and finish it with impeccable timing.

“Now!” he whispered.

Blondie pushed the wretched girl a little higher and then simply stepped backwards. The girl barely had time to scream before she hit the floor and Blondie came down on top of her back.

The crowd’s thumbs came out pointing upwards. There was no point in going on. The question had been answered and the makeshift arena shook to the applause.

Epilogue

Peter Lang and Brian Holden leaned happily on the wooden fence which surrounded the pen in which the girls were fighting. A hosepipe had been played on the earth floor within the fence and to start with twenty naked furies had battled it out inside. A small invited audience had watched raptly, cheering and clapping occasionally as some slippery bit of girlflesh was grabbed long enough to fetch a cry from the victim, or, even more occasionally, a body was thrown hard enough to make the thick ooze splash. The girls had raced, fought, boxed and lashed each other over two days and both men were well pleased. Currently there were only three pairs still staggering back into conflict, the rest had been pulled out by their trainers as exhaustion had claimed them. Neither man was bothered about which team had won. They knew that by fighting so grimly, both teams had justified the Proteus project.

The first official gladiator stable would be established in a few months, and these twenty girls would be the core of its stock.

“We’ll put ‘em in the same barracks tonight and they’ll sort out their own pecking order by the morning,” Peter said.

“Well worth watching the CCTV!” Brian suggested.

Peter laughed. “Oh, yes! They’ll get all the fight out of themselves and by the morning we’ll have a team, once all the bruises and scratches have healed!”

Out in the mud the last pair had struggled up one last time and were flinging filth at each other as they knelt up, unable to stand up any more. Brian was sure that one of them was their journalist and he pointed her out to Peter.

“Talented lass!” he said. “You obviously punished her well. That one she’s got in the headlock went by the name of Sharon, I believe. A right hard case when I got her, but a reformed and useful member of society now!”

The reformed and useful member of society yelped as Kath got a crotch hold on her but had no strength to lift, so the two bodies fell back into the mire, locked together like the lovers they might very well become.

As the men stepped in to haul the exhausted bodies out of the pit, Angie got up and left. She wasn’t sorry for Kath, why should she be, the girl was as happy as a pig in…well she was happy. Angie realised she felt sorry for herself and that made her bad tempered. But Sara would help her bear her loss, and of course she now had the money for a cruise in the Med for a month.

Carlo had yet to announce Blondie’s retirement but when she came downstairs from Carlo’s room at the CSL stable wearing the clothes that Patti had been out to buy before their return, it was clear that Tara was back. She looked stunning in a flared beige skirt and crisp, grey shirt with a high collared jacket over it. She had travelled back from France in some of Claire’s cast offs; Carlo having decided that her retirement started immediately. She wasn’t ready for underwear yet and her breasts pushed firmly against the silk of the shirt. Her legs looked even longer as they were in to-die-for heels that Patti had spent a small fortune on in London.

Carlo was actually nervous. Her tongue ring had come off only that morning and he was very well aware that although he had tamed and trained Blondie, he now had to get to know Tara. However, he was reassured to see that she too was blushing and nervous.

He scolded Patti and everyone out of the office and threatened them with dire punishments if they even peeked out of the stable windows when they left. He offered her his arm and grinning, she accepted.

“We are going for a turn around the grounds, then we are lunching with John Carpenter and his wife in the private dining room,” he told her. She nodded, still reluctant to use her voice.

“And after that….well let’s start thinking about where we’d like to live.”

“The…We…West Country’s nice,” she managed in a hoarse whisper.

They stepped out into bright, cold sunlight.

“Well money’s no problem, and with the first official arena opening down that way, could be a good investment.”

Tara’s heels clicked and scraped on the cobbles as the couple walked side by side, trying to wear away the strangeness. Suddenly, Tara stopped and looked up at the clear sky.

“Do you know what the last thing I did was before I was enslaved?” she asked, her voice becoming a rather sensual growl.

“No,” Carlo said, looking at her anxiously. This was still sensitive territory but she was adapting quickly and coming to terms with everything. She could now accept that as Blondie, she had had pretty good times and she had freely chosen to retain her CSL brand. So she was no longer grieving for Tara’s lost years

“I went sky diving,” she said. “Have you ever done that, Sir?”

“No,” Carlo replied, suddenly very sure that he would be doing it very shortly if Tara had any say in it. “Come on, we’ve got a ride waiting for us up at the main stable.”

Blackie had been warmed up for them on the treadmill and was waiting in full dressage tack between the shafts of a two-seater.

Carlo wasn’t sure how she would react but he needn’t have worried, she was thrilled to be able to appreciate a pony slave in her full finery and gleefully inspected the crupper strap to make sure it was tight enough, and did the same with the tit straps. She would need to be run in harness herself from time to time, he was sure of it.

He courteously handed her into her seat then took his own and picked up the driving whip. On a whim he held it out for her and she slowly ran a hand up the shaft and then touched the lash which was just stirring in the breeze.

“It belongs in your hands, Sir,” she whispered. “And always will.”

Carlo smiled at her as her hand caressed his, holding the handle of the whip firmly and expertly.

“You know you’re an honorary Housegirl? And I’m an honorary member, so we can come back whenever we want.”

“I always wanted one of their dresses!” she said with a broad grin.

“I always wanted to see you in one of those dresses!” he replied and whipped Blackie up. “Mind you,” he added as they passed under the arch and Blackie trotted out into the parkland. “I always wanted to see you
out
of one of those dresses too!”

Tara laughed and leaned against her adored Master.

“Please can we see how fast she goes? I’ve never driven in one of these before!”

“For you my lady? Anything!”

The whip hissed and smacked on the pony slave’s back and she leaned further forward, opening her stride and making the wheels rumble over the tarmac.

As Carlo encouraged her and the lash sang in the clear air, Tara laughed for the sheer joy of the wind in her hair and a future that looked as bright as the autumn sky overhead. With her Master beside her, Blondie would never be far away but now Tara was back and both were content.

THE END