Blonde Fury (5 page)

Alex felt his pulse race and his cock swell as he contemplated the delights of the day ahead. He
might not be able to
afford a slave but that nice Mr Lloyd was going to get his vote, right enough. Beside him a woman was on her knees to her man, her head bobbing at his groi
n. Up on the screens, a camera
was focussing on one girl who had a foot on her downed opponent’s buttocks and was belabouring her
writhing
back with her whip. An
other
screen
was showing two girls
wrestling frantically for one whip, nipples were being savagely twisted and pulled and Alex knew he needed what the arenas provide
d
in such abundance. He turned to the man beside him.

“Would you mind?” he asked.

“No mate. Help yourself,” the man said and prodded the woman. “G
et your arse up, Ann
. This gentleman needs it
.”

Without missing a beat and with nearly a whole cock length in her mouth, the woman got her legs under her and
stood up in a bent forwards posture, and all the time she
continued to suck whilst
now
presenting her bottom, which was hidden only by a short skirt. Alex thanked the man and stood up, lifted the woman’s skirt and began to feel her cunt. He was sorry that she hadn’t been wearing knickers, she was very wet and he would h
ave loved the feel of the juice-
soaked cotton. But she was an easy and comfortable fuck, taking him in after only a few moments of fingering. Once he was safely lodged inside her, Alex turned his attention back to the screens, where now two of the Tykes
’
girls were being hunted down by four Proteans. The action was getting hotter as the two fought a desperate rear guard action, as much to spare their own hides from the crowd’s love of harsh punishment for poor performances
,
as for their stable.

“Reckon the Tykes can do it?” he asked the man who was now holding his woman’s head down and grimacing as he began to climb towards orgasm.

“No,”
he said, a little breathlessly,
“the Proteus mob
are
too good!
But it’ll be a good show
!” He finished on a high note and groaned as he spent in her mouth. As she felt him spurt into her, the woman began to swivel her hips and grind against Alex in earnest and he came quite quickly. Apart from needing to spil
l
himself he had business down at the tunnel and it looked like the slaves would be coming off shortly. There was only one Tyke standing now and she was being knocked from girl to girl by the stalking Proteus four. She kept trying to go down, but they kept her up
and played with her for the crow
d’s amusement,
who
kept shouting “Ol
é!” every time she tried to collapse
but was held up and passed along to endure another slap or nipple twist
or lash
. Alex stepped away from the woman and thanked her man, then hurried for the exit just as the final Tyke was hoisted high in the air on a crotch hold, a girl’s thumb up her vagina and fingers in her arse. He looked back to see her yelling and teetering before the fingers were clenched inside her and the hand was snatched away cruelly to let her fall, writhing around the pain at her septum.

He loved the arenas!

Back at ground level he hurried around to the tunnel and approached the sergeant who was the senior officer present. The man looked at him knowingly as he withdrew the special pass that had cost him nearly a month’s wages.

“Go on then, mate,” he said, standing aside. “There’ll be some good pickings for you at this show, I reckon.”

“You’re backing the Tykes?”

“Yes. Gotta be loyal haven’t you? But it’ll be a close thing and the slaves’ll be making some nice juice for you!”

Alex carefully withdrew his special wallet as he hurried onwards, towards the doors into the dressing rooms. Already the slaves were coming back
. Behind him he heard the sergeant admit two or three other men. There was a clique of them who communicated via the net and swapped trophies. He knew the stables called them Gropies – and it was a name they were all happy to be called by.

The Proteus squad were
walking off in reasonably good order. One or two were limping and being supported by their sisters. The Tykes however were in far worse shape. One or two were having to be carried by their sister slaves and it was with these that Alex had his business. The best trophies were to be garnered from the most extremely tested slaves.

He hurried forwards and the exhausted girls halted by the door to their dressing room, obedience was so ground into them that any man was to be immediately accommodated in whatever way took his fancy. Alex took out a clean, white square of cotton and irritably gestured that those of the squad still capable of standing should part their legs. Carefully he wiped between the legs
of
those most harshly marked – one cloth to one girl, and then the cloth was dropped into a plastic wallet and sealed – the harder the slave had been used, the more juice and sweat congregated at her groin and it was the scent of suffering and excited slaves
that
he and his colleagues treasured.

He managed to be the first to get
to
one of the slaves who had had to be carried off and carefully noted the fact on a label he stuck to the wallet
that
he dropped the stained and fragrant cloth into.
The girl was coming round as he reached her and her helpers had been able to get her half standing
on wobbly legs. Her thighs were deliciously whip-scored, right up to the vulva itself, which was puffy lipped and open, the clitoral hood withdrawn and the inner lips in full flower. There were sticky lines of juice hanging from them as she helplessly relished her pain and nudity and absorbed the fact that a man was touching her cunt. He took his s
wab of her juice gently, but pro
bed well inside her to get as much of her essence as he could.

Eventually h
e reined himself in and waved the girls on when he realised he
had just enough
wipes
left
for the pens – slaves were often carried out from them – and the ponies. The ponies were especially valued as the stables had taken to running them in leather thongs over the wickedly studded crupper strap at their groins.
The thongs themselves were often thrown to the crowds but Alex had saved up and
had arranged
to bribe a driver to give him one. It would fetch good money – if he could bear t
o par
t with it! T
he
outpourings
from a girl who had been driven for three circuits wit
h a studded strap
between her legs which held
dildos up both passages,
a whip at her back
and a thong preventing too much air getting to her, would produce a truly
perfumed
and erotic experience for him, which might
hold its character
right up until the next games.

Alex lived for
the arenas. They provided him with as much sex as he needed and in between games he saved up to replenish his collections and
used the scent to relive
the erotic charge of watching the girls suffer for him and the rest of the crowd.

Chapter Three

Clive Mostyn broke the connection on his tablet and passed a weary hand across his eyes.
“What a bloody mess!”
he said.

His helicopter was clattering in to
land in
a field just outside Newcastle and a limo was waiting to ferry him to the arena
. He fervently hoped
it was going to be a good show
. It had cost him a fortune, but getting Greville Lloyd re-elected was vital to maintaining his parliamentary majority – and he was going to need it – there was a growing liberal reaction to some of his proposed legislation
aimed at further entrenching
slavery but he was certain he could carry the majority of the
country with him – it was just P
arliament he had to worry about.

And now this!

He had just taken a call from very high up in the Met. They had raided the Suarez girl’s house but she had already gone. It seemed as though she had been spooked at the last minute by some others who were looking for her.

It had to be one of the arenas. Someone had leaked the information
he had had
dug out of government records
about her deed poll name and now all the arenas would want her. But somehow he had to get her
first
! He could manipulate the publicity and the kudos he would attain in the public’s eyes if he could control the confrontation that every arena fan in the world – let alone in the UK – would die for. The final conflict – no a whole series of events
!
– between the two daughters of the legendary Blondie.

But i
f one of the stables got her,
the revenue from selling her on or from staging the fights with Ace would go into their coffers and not his – the count
r
y’s - he corrected himself rapidly.

His private secretary looked across at him.

“
Have they put out an A
PB
?”

“Of course. But she’s got a three hour start, the patrol sent to find her got involved in a bit of neighbourhood strife
a couple of doors along from where the Suarez girl was living
– something about a slavegirl being shafted by a neighbour’s son on his eighteenth birthday.”

The secretary raised an eyebrow. “Sounds reasonable,” he said.

“But
everyone got drunk and
the parents of the boy claimed they’d been overcharged by the girl’s owner. Apparently it all got pretty heated and by the time the lads had sorted that out it was considerably later on.”

“As you say, sir. What a mess!”

Mostyn managed a grim smile. “Apparently the wife of the man doing the moaning was
quite
presentable so they arrested them both and she’s been sold at a good price. So I suppose it’s an ill wind that blows nobody any good!”

The secretary laughed. “She won’t be bothered about the price of sex now she’s chipped!”

Clive
chose to look in on the circus to start with and see the chariot racing. He
took his seat in time for the
last couple of races
on the
Sunday
.
He was pleased by the welcome
he got when he appeared in the O
wners’ box and spent some minutes
waving and milking the applause
before taking his place besid
e the Tykes’ owner,
a newly ennobled businessman – by Clive’s own recommendation
–
Robert Barber, now
Lord Barber of Arundel
.

“It’s been a good show, Clive,” he told the Prime Minister as he sat down. “I have to say it looks like it’s going the way of the Proteans, but you’d have been
pleased with the fights that’
ve been put up. And the crowd’s handed out some pretty juicy punishments to both sides, so there’ll
be
plenty of action later on.”

“Good! How did Ace do?” Clive wanted to know.

“We’ll go along and see her race in the single pony class in a bit, shall we? She’s walked through two whip duels
. Sad to say, my girls didn’t put up too good a fight
and they’ll pay the price for that later. Serve
the
silly bitches right!
”

Clive settled down as the comp
è
re announced that the next
six
chari
ots were ready. Just down in fro
nt of the box the
six
teams of six slaves
to each chariot
stood, their skins gleaming with oil in the late sun.

In his anxiety to provide a real spectacle, Clive had made the chariot racing a separate event and had invited other teams to compete for an ornate cup he had
given
to the Tykes stable so they could
present it and
have a yearly event built around it. Down below were girls from the Countess de Goncourt’s Girl Squad and
another
team was
from a new stable in Canada – the Rockies – and there was a team from North Africa and one from Indonesia.
Lord Barber
told Clive that there had been some spectacular pile ups and collisions in the first heat and the crowd had loved it. With six chariots competing the struggle to get round the corners at each end of the circus and to stop the opposition
from doing so
was intense.