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Authors: Sean O'Kane

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BOOK: Bound for Glory
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“Right! Come on you lazy bitches! Let’s be having you. Pass prevention practice now.”

He vaulted onto the track too and walked across to pick up the ball from the in-field and tossed it to the blonde Passer.

“Ace! Get out front!” he ordered. “Now, Defence, stop the Passer getting that ball to Ace. Remember the rush defence we practised yesterday!” he blew his whistle again and again the stadium was drowned in the roar and noise of the girls throwing themselves into the fray.

The blonde stayed back while four of her teammates guarded her. The Defence turned against the direction of skating and tried to burst through the cordon of four girls protecting the Passer, whose attention had to be focussed on the Receiver. Meanwhile at the front, another four defending girls were desperately trying to stop Ace from being overwhelmed by a phalanx of girls who were using the ‘whip’ to try and burst through. A whip was when one or two girls took a third girl by her hand and skated as fast as they could, then literally hurled her forwards as they built up momentum. The whipped girl could achieve frightening speeds, and at the favourite time which was when they were coming down off the banked turns and onto the flat straights, it was difficult for a defence to stop her, even if there was a cordon of girls holding hands across the track.

Brian watched as the blonde steadied herself, ignoring the scrapping going on in front of her and launched the ball along the length of the track. One of the attackers had indeed got through, scattering two defenders who were sent crashing into the rails, but Ace, skating backwards as if she had done it every day of her life, kept her eyes fixed on the ball, then leapt and took it cleanly, throwing out a roller-skate-clad foot as she did so and taking the charging attacker in the midriff.

Brian blew up again. “Time out!” he called. “Nice work everyone.” He went over to the downed Defence player as she sat up and checked her for rib damage.

“We should use some of the reserves for this,” Tony said. “It’ll be a miracle if they get to the big day in one piece.”

“No. Defence and Offence have got to get there well used to going up against the best opposition we can provide. We’ll have to ride our luck.”

 

 

Anna had never in her life put on roller skates and like all the others her naked body was covered in bruises for a fortnight before she began to get the hang of it and thrill to the speeds she could achieve. But like all the other girls, she was exhausted and stiff after each day endlessly circling the track. And then they had to learn how to turn and face behind them while still skating in the same direction they had been. Then they had to learn how to ‘whip’ and then learn how to crouch on their skates to try and get underneath the linked arms of the opposing team. Then learn how to grapple with an opponent against the rails and tip her over if possible. That was the only time gym mats had been deployed. For nearly a week, day after day, they had methodically learned holds and throws that could be applied fast and which would send an opponent screaming over the rails and down to earth. It was important they retained the screams even after they had mastered the throws and the falls. They all knew that the arenas had to give good value, so always they had to make it look good.

She had learned her function as Receiver and knew she was good at it now. It had taken a few evenings out in the yard at the whipping post to encourage her though. Lashed by her trainer’s tongue as well as his whip, she had found no pleasure in those beatings, only shame in front of her teammates. They had all been there and all knew that shame. No matter how badly treated a slave, she would always take pride in belonging to her owner or trainer and to his team, so his displeasure was a punishment all on its own. Tracey, with whom she now shared a stall to help bond Passer and Receiver, Brian had said, had taken several heavy beatings before she fully got to grips with all the skills required and Anna had had to cuddle up to her and kiss her welts and cuts better as she sobbed herself to sleep. No matter how many chips and chains and whips a girl was subjected to, she thought in the dark as she felt Tracey’s warm body beside her, we all just want to be someone’s Good Girl.

 

 

“Good girl! Don’t disturb me now,” Clive Mostyn leaned over the hooded slave once more, took a pinch of breastflesh between thumb and forefinger and pushed a needle through it. The body heaved slightly beneath him but there was no noise from within the leather hood. He was designing a pattern of needles that spiralled in towards her nipple, just two more now he reckoned and then it would be the nipple itself. After that he would start on her right breast. He stood back and surveyed the spectacular body stretched out on the rack before him. He noticed the tremors running down across the stomach towards the girl’s delta and smiled. Her legs were spread and strapped down to the opened limbs of the rack. When he was ready he would be able to step between them and help himself to an easy and relaxed fuck.

“You still reckon this one’s as much of a find as you first thought?” he asked Brian as he bent back to his work on the breast, opening another sterile package and extracting the needle within.

“Oh yes. She’s the real deal. Took to the Derby with no problem,” Brian replied from across the dungeon. He had the Passer hung by her ankles and was working between her wide spread thighs, clamping her labia having whipped them soundly beforehand. She was not hooded but was being kept quiet by having his cock spearing deep into her throat. An occasional tremor ran through her too as her ordeal became more extreme. It had been decided that the girls had earned a treat before going into a lock down prior to the big event so twenty guards from the Angels and the Proteus stables had been bussed in and The Lodge’s dungeons were in full use. The room that Tony, Brian and Clive Mostyn were occupied in had had its main lights dimmed and a warm, comfortable light was being shed by candles mounted in the cunts of two Housegirls, also ankle suspended. Their twitches and jerks as the molten wax hit them at unpredictable intervals made the shadows swing and gave the naked flesh on display an eerie look, as if the reality was only a flickering image on some screen. Next to Brian, Tony began to wield a heavy paddle over the backside of another girl, tied down over a whipping bench. The heavy smacks and answering squeals made the other two men return to their respective tasks. Despite the penis gag in the mouthpiece of the hood, Ace’s squeal was audible as the needle emerged from her nipple. Clive stood back and admired his handiwork, then slapped her on the flank.

“Steady now, girl. You’re looking good for a load more yet,” he told her and brushed his hand across her vulva. The juice was dripping in long strands from her cunt down to the floor. “Yes, plenty more!” he said, reaching for the needles as the slave that Tony was beating orgasmed loudly and the lights swung as more wax hit the Housegirls. “Oh yes!” and the heir apparent to Number Ten Downing Street went back to work on the promising young slave beneath him.

 

Chapter Fifteen

 

When they were finally taken out to a truck and chained to seats within it, a sure sign that they were on their way to an arena, the twenty girls of the Mostyn team still had no idea of what exactly they were going into. It was only after a long drive when they were unloaded outside an arena which was in full use to judge by the roars and cheers coming from inside, that anything was explained to them. They were taken to a shed that stood beside the perimeter fence and found a simple room with bunk beds, showers and primitive toilets. She could tell that Brian was not impressed and Tony disappeared off immediately, to complain, she imagined. But as they were freed to lie or sit on their beds he told them what was going on.

They were not taking part in a Games as such. They would be on after the Games had finished, which would be very shortly. They would be up against a team that had been put together specially just as they had. But there was no question of losing. It simply wasn’t an option under any circumstances. His face was grave as he spoke and this made Anna pay special attention, but what really brought home the importance of the competition was that there was no threat. He didn’t promise to flay them every day for a week, or hang them in the pits for a fortnight or any of the other punishments a losing team might expect. It seemed that this was so important, losing was, by itself, more of a punishment than anything else could be. She could tell by the way the others all sat motionless and attentive that they too had spotted this.

Tony came back to tell them that this was the best the host stable could do while they still had an away team to cater for as well.

“I saw the Andrews team and they’re no better off,” he concluded.

“How did they look?” Brian asked as he walked out and Anna could hear the tension in his voice as he left but the closing door prevented her from hearing more.

But in a few minutes one of the CSL grooms brought in their gear and they began to get kitted up. They wore short kilts of deep blue, which were new to them, but their skates were all named so that each girl got the ones she had become used to. They buckled on their arm guards and then sat and waited, idly twirling their skates and their gum shields, which they had been fitted with only the previous day. Anna could appreciate the reasoning behind this. An arena slave knew she would get all sorts of stuffing knocked out of her and was used to it. The fact she was being given some protection meant that getting really hurt was a definite possibility. It had been best to spring that one on them at the last minute. Tracey came to sit beside her and they, like many of the others took advantage of the rare opportunity given by having their hands free to give their friends and lovers a hug.

Quite soon they were called for by Brian.

“Follow me,” he told them simply. “Don’t let yourself get drawn into any skirmishes with the other team before the ‘off’. Ok?” They nodded and without any more words he turned and led them out.

 

 

They walked out onto the open ground surrounding the arena and could hear the excited buzz of the crowd as it settled down after the finale to the Games. As Anna ‘s team came nearer they could see the slaves either limping out or being carried out of the arena and doused in cold water before being taken to their barracks. From inside the arena under the crowd noise, came the clanging of metal on metal and the thudding of heavy wood. It was the modular track being constructed, Brian told them as they took their seats in the vacated dressing room, where the visiting team’s vet was just clearing away her implements and swabbing down the examination table.

Eventually they heard the PA crackle into life and the compere addressed the crowd.

“Well this is it, Ladies and Gentlemen!” he said as the crowd hushed but the sounds of construction continued. “This is possibly the most momentus competition in arena history! Clive Mostyn has challenged Phil Andrews to a Demolition Derby. Both men have said that they will support the arenas if elected, but which one will you support, ladies and gentlemen? We like winners in the arenas, don’t we!” There was a roar of assent from the crowd. “So let’s cheer on our two teams tonight and let the toughest, the fastest and the best team win!”

Brian said nothing as they listened to the announcement but he didn’t need to.

Eventually the construction noises stopped and the compere’s voice boomed out again.

“Okay! Let’s get ready to welcome our two teams! Let’s get ready to rock and roll!”

Brian stirred. He stood up and looked at them all, then gave them a quick smile. “Let’s go,” he said. “Win. That’s all. Just win.”

 

They trooped out behind him with Tony bringing up the rear. In the tunnel outside they halted while the opposition slaves were led out from their dressing room and the two teams glared at each other. Each team might have been drawn from different stables but they were one unit now and their trainer’s enemy was theirs.

Once all forty girls were lined up they walked out into a floodlit arena, the harsh light making them blink for a few minutes as they absorbed both it and the deafening roar of the crowd, which was really getting its money’s worth today.

Anna’s team was taken in to the in-field by clambering under the scaffolding holding up the banking at the far end of the track and they emerged into the in-field on the right side of the tall net that separated the two teams and made sure a pass had to be completed along the length of the track and not across it.

They sat on a long bench and strapped on their skates while the compere did some more spiel and then the two sponsors of this epic addition to a Games took a bow from the Owner’s box and then Brian and his opposite number took the toss, it came down heads and Andrews’ team – in yellow skirts – won. They chose to go on the attack for the first jam. That meant that Anna and Tracey sat it out.

The ten girls of the Mostyn team’s defence lined up in front of the ten girls of the Andrews attack force. The crowd settled. There was a moment’s silence and then the pistol sounded. The noise was as instant as it was deafening. The two teams frantically kicked off and got up to speed after the first turn. The Yellows launched their first whip straight after it and sent a girl hurtling along the outside of the first straight. The Blues saw her coming and she was barged into the rails but kept her feet. Then two girls together tried to barge straight through the middle of the pack of the Blues and the scuffling continued as the teams started a second lap. On the banked boarding they whipped again, but on the inside. The Yellow team’s girl was sent hurtling along, crouching down and was only stopped by a Blue girl throwing herself at her from the side and taking her into the in-field. The two semi-naked slaves, slammed into the ground and tumbled and rolled, throwing up water buckets, sponges and spray cans as they fought and rolled to a standstill, then both scrambled back onto the track where a Yellow had broken through the Blue’s cordon and had turned and was hitting out at the defence behind her, until she herself was put into a headlock by a Blue girl who also turned and took her headfirst into the flimsily covered rails at the top of the banking on the next turn. A section of the crowd went wild as the Yellow girl was left sitting, dazed on the track until two Blues managed to kick at her as they sped past. One kick caught her left breast and even as that was played back on the giant monitors in gleeful slo-mo, the Yellow team went mad and a rolling free for all developed. Punching, kicking and hair pulling the twenty girls rolled on in a flesh coloured crowd until one Yellow emerged with a Blue held by the nipples, she spun her around and around as her screams rose into the night and then let go. With a despairing wail the girl disappeared over the railings and the Yellow Receiver broke through. Immediately the Blue defence separated into two groups, one to impede the Passer, one to impede the Receiver. A ball was thrown out from the in-field to the Passer and the three Blue defenders launched themselves against the four Yellow guards. They crouched low, and slowed themselves, letting the Yellows come into them and threw one of the guards straight into a somersault by joining hands and whipping her legs out from under her. She landed flat on her bottom, legs straight out in front of her and bounced then curled up in agony. The Passer got a ball away nonetheless and a pass was completed. The compere acknowledged it and a cheer went up but another cheer went up as the Blue girl who had been thrown clear managed to vault back over the rails during the next lap and the Yellows made three incomplete passes until their injured played managed to get back to her feet. She tottered up hanging onto the rails and was immediately hit by a Blue who got her in a headlock as she skated on, the Yellow girl’s injured bottom and cunt were fully on display and cheered loudly by all parts of the crowd. But, refusing to be distracted and with two more Blues joining in pummelling the unfortunate Yellow, the Yellow Passer and Receiver managed to complete two more passes in quick succession.

By now the other team members in the in-field were all on their feet and screaming and Anna had no idea how many laps had been completed. But at last the three Blues were dragged off the Yellow girl who was allowed to sink to the track, holding onto the rails. By the time the next lap came round she had managed to get up but was weakened and when the Yellows made another completed pass, the Blues took advantage of the pause to trap her against the rails and put paid to her. The crowd loved it as knees went up and fists went down while the girl jerked and crouched hopelessly. Then two Blues joined hands behind her and lifted, sending her crashing backwards off the track entirely.

Another pass was completed and the compere yelled above the noise that it was the last lap. With a girl advantage the Blues left the Receiver alone and ganged up on the Passer, they took out three guards and hoisted one of their number up as the pass was made, managing to block it. Then the siren went for the end of the first jam.

 

 

Bruised and dazed and not really knowing if they had done well the defence team come off and Anna found herself out on the track, feeling it through her skates, testing it and describing curves and spins as the groups assembled. This time the Blues were behind the Yellows and it was Anna’s job to break through, aided by her team. The short, dark-skinned girls from the Orange team grinned at her reassuringly. They had some well-rehearsed moves prepared.

As soon as the pistol went, all the girls scrambled to get up to speed, and by the end of the first turn had made it. Anna’s teammates went straight for a whip, sending a girl crouching low to crash into the backs of the defenders, between their legs. On impact she stood up and sent two Yellow girls spinning into the air. Anna grinned widely and darted through but came up against the second line of defence. A shoulder took her hard in the chest. A hand was suddenly on her cunt and she was hoisted and thrown helplessly into the air. She remembered her training and slammed her arms out and down as she landed but it was a hard landing and she cried out even as she rolled forwards, desperate to avoid the skates that would try to rake her. She made it and got back up as the pack passed her. Then she dug in and took off after them, anger and shame burning within her. She went straight past her own team members and slammed both arms down onto the arms of two Yellow girls who were linking across the track in front of her. They yelled and half-turned. Anna caught both their heads under her arms and slammed them together in front of her, then she was through and spun to find where Tracey was. Tracey swerved to avoid the scrum that had arisen around the two downed Yellow girls, took the ball from Brian as she did so and launched it to Anna in one smooth movement. Anna saw the ball spiralling down towards her out of the black sky and felt its weight slam against her safely. She held it up and the compere called it, just as they completed another lap and Brian sent another ball out to Tracey as the scrum began to resolve itself. She threw to Anna again who caught it easily. Meanwhile the Blue girls had got the Yellows tied up in a real catfight. Nipples were being twisted mercilessly, knees were coming up between spread thighs and any shape to the teams had been lost. The scuffling groups were cleverly kept to the rails though and Tracey and Anna were able to skate past easily and complete four more passes before any organisation had been restored. It looked like the Blues had lost one girl and so had the Yellows. Both were rolling around on the floor of the arena, biting, kicking and punching, oblivious to what was going on on the track. Close ups of the shuddering breasts and thrashing limbs were all over the screens but meanwhile Tracey and Anna made hay while the sun shone. They completed four more passes before their final one was blocked.

The first set was theirs comfortably,

 

 

There was only a short break and then Anna and the Offence team had to start the second set. Brian had told them to go straight for the girls they had weakened in the previous jam. Tracey and Anna were told to stay clear as far as they could and do as they had done before; leave the rough stuff to the others and just make the passes.

It seemed to work to begin with. The other Blue girls laid into the weakened Yellows with no mercy and disposed of two of them inside five laps. But just as Tracey and Anna were grinning happily at each other and preparing to start the passes the remaining Yellows abandoned their previous strategy and made a rush attack on Tracey. Before the other Blue defenders could get to her, all eight Yellows had burst through her guard, got her against the railings and were dishing out what the Blues had to their colleague. Anna skated past helplessly, knowing she couldn’t afford to get involved but on her second pass she saw that Tracey was down and getting seriously hammered. She threw the plans away and dived in, grabbing hair, tits and anything she could grip and throwing wild punches. She made the difference and Tracey was able to stand, but then Anna had to get clear again and found she had acquired a companion she couldn’t get rid of. A Yellow girl had the wit to stay with her and shadow her, barge her, upset her and make it impossible to receive a pass. Tracey was coping with trying to see with one eye rapidly closing and her passing was getting vague. Anna only managed one clean take before the siren sounded.

BOOK: Bound for Glory
3.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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