Chapter One

 

The training ground was a mass of tanned and sweating, naked, female bodies, dust caked them to the knees as they went through the carefully choreographed moves their trainers were drumming into them - with the aid of their whips if necessary. There were a hundred fit and lithe girls twirling, dodging and feinting, using light training whips that would do no real damage if they struck flesh. The guards and trainers carried the real items however and every now and then the training ground would echo to the report of a lash being delivered to this or that malingerer, or to a girl who had lunged at her opponent and gone off balance when she should have held back and waited for a better opportunity.

The girls were organised into two lines; one line held the light whips, the other one was equipped only with the light plastic shields they would take into the arena with them. Offensive and defensive skills were being honed as the squad was mercilessly driven on under the sun as it neared its zenith.

The Countess Sadia de Groncourt turned from enjoying the view and walked off her balcony and back into the shade of her office as a whistle sounded and the slaves groaned with relief, sinking down to rest for just a few minutes. She knew her trainer in chief - Angel - would be stalking among the prostrate bodies, her riding crop tap-tap-tapping against her thigh as she surveyed the heaving breasts and quivering limbs; looking for any signs of weakness above that which was to be expected.

They were the Girl Squad. The first and only female owned and trained squad in the modern arenas. Some of the guards were male but all the training, dietary and discipline regimes were under hers and Angel's command. They were preparing for their second event which was due to be held in an arena in Indonesia in three weeks and the pressure was on.

They had announced their arrival on the scene with an emphatic win over the Prince of Bahktar's stable and the world of the arenas was still reeling from the shock.

Sadia smiled at the memory as she took a sun hat from off her marble topped desk and strode downstairs.

It was customary in the finals of the three day events to let the entire squads loose on each other in one climactic spectacle of naked feminine struggle. And once it was clear which squad was winning and points could be awarded accordingly, the male guards would be allowed to enter the fray and take down every last girl in the arena.

In the Bahktar arena the men had had a tougher than usual job as the female guards and trainers from Sadia's stable had joined the slaves. Even her beloved Angel had stripped off and thrown herself into the fray and Sadia felt a gentle tide of moist warmth at her groin as she recalled her lover's magnificent body, shown on the giant video screens, going down struggling to the end under the tide of hard, muscular male bodies. The only way Angel took any pleasure from sex with men was if the man in question was stronger, fitter and a better fighter than she was. The arenas were about the only places they existed.

Still, she had looked terrific with big, hard lengths of cock stretching her lips - at both ends....

Sternly Sadia brought her thoughts back to the here and now. She had a meeting over at the arena which was now nearing completion and needed Angel to accompany her.

The slaves were being urged back onto their feet as she reached the middle of the training ground. The guards, both men and women moved among the bodies, prodding with their boots and flicking with their whips as the groaning, sweat streaked girls staggered back to their feet.

Angel saw Sadia coming and waved to one of the men.

"Take them for a run and fill the Punishment Pits if any of them look like they're slacking!" she called.

The groans immediately ceased and the slaves faced up to the next task determined that they weren't going to be put in the pits. A line of ten, eight feet deep pits covered by heavy metal grilles set into the ground ran along one edge of the training ground. Any girl put in them immediately became the lowest of the low and the rest of the squad would take every delight in delivering golden showers of scorn throughout the days of her imprisonment.

As Sadia came up to Angel she saw number ninety-seven - a dark haired girl with pretty tip-tilted nipples - was near her. Ninety-seven had been one of the very last to be bought before the successful first event and Sadia had always felt a sentimental fondness for the girl, as if she was some sort of good luck talisman. Angel simply saw her as one of the smartest slaves in the squad, able to think on her feet and be at home in the arena and the squad almost like no other.

Sadia reached out a hand and clicked her fingers. Immediately the slave came to her and settled her feet well apart, putting her hands behind her back.

Like all arena slaves she was clean shaven and Sadia's fingers slid easily into the moist crack, the lips parting and the vaginal entrance accepting its owner's penetration eagerly.

"Let's not keep the president waiting, Angel," she said, ignoring the slave and just letting her fingers idly stir the thick juices of the cunt.

"Okay, but I'd like to get back for the afternoon session. I want to shave another two seconds off the mass log pull times."

Sadia sighed in pleasure but regretfully withdrew her fingers from Ninety-seven's cunt and wiped them on the girl's stomach. To hell with all the paperwork that waited for her attention in the office. She would settle herself on the office balcony with a long cool drink and watch the mass log pull practices. There was a superbly erotic charge to be had from the feeling of power it gave her to watch all one hundred squad slaves, bent beneath the rope which was chained to the great log behind them. Then on a signal from Angel the whips would begin to crack and smack and the line of submissively bent and devoted slaves would sway from side to side as their feet fought for purchase in the loose dirt and dust and then with the whips driving them on relentlessly the line would begin to move forwards, gathering pace as it went.

At the far end of the training ground, the line would be halted while the shackles were moved to the other end of the log and the process would be repeated until Angel was satisfied.

It was a magnificently cruel spectacle. And probably for that reason it was a favourite with the crowds, particularly when the cameras caught close-ups of the lines of sweating, struggling slaves, breasts swinging beneath torsos, shapely thighs straining, backs and buttocks prettily decorated by the lashes. The orgies on the terraces during the mass log pulling races were amongst the wildest that took place during the events.

 

Sadia and Angel strolled arm in arm through the gate of the stockade that enclosed the training ground and turned towards their arena. The squad of running slaves, with its escort of jeeps, was now no more than a cloud of dust out on the endless scrubland that surrounded the stable. Sadia turned her attention to the building that would soon be at the heart of the whole enterprise. At last the skeletons of scaffolding were coming down and the shape of the arena could be seen properly.

It differed from most of the others that had sprung up in the last few years in that its roof was a closed dome. Mostly the arenas were in warm climates and had open roofs, but here, in Eastern Europe, during the winter it would have to serve as an undercover training area. In the huge car park that stretched out on one side of it, the fleet of luxurious coaches, especially bought in to transport the crowds from their hotels in the city that lay just the other side of the mountains was already ranged. Every vehicle was resplendent in yellow and black livery - the Girl Squad colours. And every vehicle was adorned with a large picture of a naked slavegirl carrying a small shield and whip. Sadia's stable was one of the first to be actively encouraged by the government of the country it existed in and could afford to advertise its presence. As they approached the arena and could hear the hammering coming from within, a line of three black limousines drew up, the green and mauve national flags fluttering proudly on their wings.

Men in dark suits and sunglasses jumped out and stood guard as the president himself emerged from the middle car in time to meet the two women. He was a tall, well-built man with thick black hair, greying at the temples and greased back from his forehead. He bowed formally and kissed their hands.

"My dear Countess and my dear Miss Smythe! What a pleasure it is to greet you again when all is going so well!" He smiled and gestured to the arena. "For our part, three of the hotels are ready now and the other two will be ready in a fortnight's time. And I can see that you are making splendid progress here too."

"That is wonderful news Mr President," Sadia replied. "And indeed, we have just to fit the seating in the arena and complete some odds and ends, then lay the artificial surface for the racing track. As agreed, the arena will have to serve for chariot racing until next year. Then we will add the circus. But we will be ready for our first home fixture on time."

The president beamed at them. "That is all good news! And may I congratulate you on your magnificent win in Bahktar, it has really placed our little country on the map," he told them as they began to stroll towards the arena.

"Thank you," Sadia said. "However, neither myself nor Miss Smythe here is complacent. The Orange stable we fight in three weeks' time will be going all out to beat us. I'm afraid the rest of the arena world does not share your enthusiasm for the Girl Squad."

"I have complete faith in you!" the president told them and the two women exchanged glances behind his back as they approached the outlying buildings of the arena and the conducted tour began.

The first buildings were unremarkable looking; long, shed-like constructions in the lee of the arena proper, but once entered, they revealed sunken floors divided into many pits by walls built up to ground level and topped by walkways with railings; and there were also wide banks of terraced seating surrounding each pit. A door was let into one wall of each pit to allow competitors to enter and leave - or be carried out through.

These were the pens, where squad members would wrestle, fight with whips or box while the elite solo fighters would have the arena floor to themselves. The crowds liked a chance to get close to the action at times. But as a precaution against anyone getting over-enthusiastic, each pen was roofed in with close mesh, plastic wire.

"There are passages built underground from the holding cells and changing rooms so the slaves can be moved around easily," Angel explained.

Then there were the barracks for the visiting team and their staff quarters and kitchens.

Only once those had been inspected did the party enter the darkness of the tunnel that led from the outside, under the terraces to emerge onto the arena floor.

"Each team's dressing room and changing room opens off this," Angel explained in her clipped, precise, home counties English tones.

As they entered the home team's room, Sadia pointed out where the cameras were and what the 'dressing' consisted of. A sample chariot racer's tack had been left hanging on one peg and she took it down for the men to examine.

"On the day, the butt plug is coated in a special brew that I cook up for the lazy bitches. It keeps their minds focussed on getting to the end of the race just as fast as they can!" Angel told them as the men's big hands explored the crupper strap with its twin shafts and the studded tit straps and the complex bridle. Doubtless they had all seen them used on downloads but the reality was something of a revelation.

She also showed them a studded whip and saw the expressions of respect as they tested the tines and felt the weight of the length of heavy hide.

"It is indeed a tribute to your skills that you get slaves to face each other with these things," the president said.

"Oh it's just a case of them knowing for certain that what Angel will do to them if they don't will be far worse than anything that might happen in the arena if they do!" Sadia explained to general laughter.

Next came a look at the medical provisions - a bench with stirrups at one end and behind it shelves full of liniment, needles, surgical thread, plasters and bandages.

"The Owners' Council has decreed that all stables will provide medical facilities for both teams and have a full time vet on its staff. Ours starts next week," Sadia explained.

The president frowned.

"But isn't that an unnecessary expense? I mean they are just slaves and one can always buy more."

"Angel is inclined to agree with you," Sadia replied, smiling fondly at her trainer and lover. "But I agree with the Council. In the long term it means fitter and stronger stock which will fetch better money at auction. And it also means that more patching up can be done during an event with no lasting damage. So the bitches can be worked harder."

The president smiled and bowed.

"I realise these things are more complicated than they appear. Thank you for explaining."

From the dressing room they trooped out onto the floor of the arena itself.

Down the centre of it stood a long fence and the slaves had been trained in chariot racing down here before the Bahktar games, when it hadn't mattered that the seating wasn't yet fully ready.

Now, up by the roof, actinic light flared periodically as welding went on and heavy steel clanged and clanked hollowly as the terracing was worked on.

Sadia patiently took the men through every detail that was needed to stage an event and followed that up with a tour of the dungeons - the audience could hire a slave by the hour to play with in the evenings - and the training facilities. They were just in time to see the squad return from its run and watch as ten unfortunates were deemed to not have given their all and were consigned to the Pits for a few days. Then lunch was provided at the house and by mid-afternoon, when the sun's ferocity had abated somewhat, the party left.

There was no request made to sample the bodies of the slaves and Sadia made no offer. It simply wasn't needed. That evening, twenty-five of them would be shipped off to the state brothel for a week. It was part of the arrangement. A regular supply of slaves would be available to the president and whoever he wanted to share them with at the brothel, but within the boundaries of the stable itself; training came first.

 

On the training ground the slaves were allowed water and then rest while the guards took about half an hour to haul out the log by tractor and shackle the rope to it. Then they arranged the two lines of slaves with their wrist cuffs clipped to the rope up by their left or right shoulder - depending on which side of the rope they stood. Angel conducted operations from up on the balcony; there was still some very fine wine left over from lunch so Sadia had persuaded her to stay.

At length, when all had been made ready, she gave them a speech through a loud hailer.

"Listen up you lucky bitches! In three weeks you're going up against a stable that knows you're good! There'll be no element of surprise this time. Right now their stable will be giving them hell so that three days against you lot will be a stroll in the park. I know you're tired. I know you're hurting. And I know you're going to be lashed into setting a record for dragging that bloody log. Want to know how I know? Well I'll tell you. I've given orders that studded whips are going to be used unless the record's broken on the first run. So pull you lazy bitches!"

She blew her whistle and as Sadia came to stand close beside her, the pull got underway.

"Oh, yesss!" Sadia sighed as she watched the guards throw themselves into lashing the last strength out of the slaves. It was hard, cruel beating and she loved it. She reached around Angel and caressed her left breast through the crisp linen of her shirt. Down below, the log had begun to move but there was no let-up in the whipping. Some of the slaves were almost lying along the ground, they were hauling so hard. No one had any doubt that Angel meant what she had said. The record had to be broken.

Sadia nuzzled her lover's neck, licking the salt sweat from her skin as she resolutely studied her stop watch.

Slowly the huge log began to slide more easily. Some of the slaves began to cry out in their exertions and their cries mingled with the grunts of effort from the guards as they swung the whips.

"Mmm! Is that not the very heart and soul of absolute power?" Sadia murmured. "All that suffering and effort just to please me and make me rich!"

"Yes, my lady." Angel's eyes never left the watch, even as her mistress' hand slid down to stroke the front of her jodhpurs. Down on the training ground the noise was increasing as the end of the run came in sight. The guards were throwing leather at the slaves as hard as they could and the smacks and cries grew louder and louder.

Angel shivered as Sadia's finger stroked her clitoris through the material of the jodhpurs. The eroticism of power burned through both women and as the leading guard called out the end of the run, Angel's finger clicked off the watch and she turned to kiss her mistress, opening her mouth wide to allow the woman's tongue to penetrate her. But Sadia hadn't lost all control and pulled back after a few seconds.

"Well?" she asked.

Angel glanced down. "Three seconds faster than the old record!" she called out. There was ragged cheering from below.

"Standard whips to be used on the return run!" she added to groans from the slaves who might have hoped for a rest. As people ran to obey her she turned back to her mistress and dropped to her knees, burying her face in Sadia's skirt and holding her to her by her buttocks.

Sadia looked down and stroked her thick blonde hair. "Early to bed tonight. We need to think of more ways to put those bitches through all the seven circles of hell. I don't mean to lose this event!"

 

They had one of the solo fighters delivered to Sadia's bedroom later on. She was a tall, graceful creature with fair skin and a long, lustrous pony tail of black hair protruding from the back of the thick leather hood that left her only her nose and mouth free. The solo fighters were the aristocrats of the arenas, they usually fought duels and raced in single pony traps or competed in pursuit running. Only in the final spectacular would they be subsumed into the melee. Angel had broken with tradition by racing them in the six-slave chariots in their first games; a trick she knew wouldn't work twice.

Angel ran her hands over the soft, silky flesh of the slave as she hung over Sadia's bed, her wide-spread ankles shackled to chains hanging from a winch. She let her fingers trail across the swells of the buttocks and the breasts and the taut length of the thighs. She was kneeling naked on the bed behind the girl and pressed her own breasts against the slave's buttocks, rubbing the nipples and sighing in pleasure, at the same time as she felt the heat from the candle. Below her the slave gave a soft gasp as the candle, which was stuck into her cunt dripped a little more wax onto her. The flickering light it gave out was the only illumination and by it Angel could see Sadia standing by the window, a warm night wind was blowing the long lace curtain against her nakedness and she could see every curve of her adored lover's body.

She was gazing down at the training ground and the stockade, patrolled now by two or three sleepy guards. The barracks were dark and silent. But Angel knew the pressures of running such a large enterprise didn't stop with the setting of the sun, and she knew that in the morning she was going to have to add to Sadia's problems. There had been a couple of phone calls late on in the day. But for now....

She got off the bed and went to stand close behind her lover, pressing her breasts against Sadia's back and running her hands down her smooth flanks, then diving them forwards to run her fingers through the soft fleece of pubes at her delta, still wet from Angel's tongue and her own discharge at orgasm.

Angel nuzzled Sadia's neck. "Come back to bed and whip this bitch with me," she whispered.

Smiling, Sadia allowed herself to be led back and took up a long tailed flogger while Angel snuffed out the candle and tore it from the mound of wax it had built up along the slave's labia, before tearing off the mound itself.

"I bet the silly bitch won't thank me for having saved her from being waxed by the grooms for a few days," she said as she stood back, the slave's body still trembling in the aftermath of the unexpected pain.

Sadia laughed as she swung the whip and Angel was happy to see her relax. The slave's body convulsed and curled in shock again but then Angel reached out and steadied it by grasping the erect nipples so that Sadia should have a steady target.

The two dominants enjoyed the therapeutic hiss and smack of the whip as it landed between the long thighs, time and again in a steady rhythm that eventually brought a shuddering groan of release from the slave. Sadia stopped the beating and ran the tails through her hand while Angel leaned in and lapped at the puffy labia, savouring the juices the whip had fetched forth and sucking at the hardened clitoris, standing eagerly to attention and demanding more punishment.

Sadia came to kneel behind the slave and leaned forward to kiss Angel, tasting the slave from within her mouth.

"Take her down," she whispered thickly.

Angel leaned over to the head of the bed and took the control unit, pressing the control to lower the chains. Motors whined and the suspended body was gently delivered to the bed; Sadia guiding it down to lie on its back, hands still secured under it.

While Angel unshackled the slave's ankles, Sadia was buckling on the thickest strap- on in their extensive collection and while she tidied away the chains by raising them again, Sadia threw herself onto the prone slave and began fucking her in a frenzy of urgency, grinding her clit against the hard rubber as she did so.

Angel took something from the bedside cabinet beside her and knelt above the bucking bodies on the bed; the slave was thrusting back at her owner as hard as her owner could ram into her. Angel knelt facing Sadia's bottom and leaning forward, she parted the cheeks and located the pre-lubed head of the solid glass dildo at Sadia's anus, then she pushed and grinned as the first ball disappeared easily into the rectum, causing Sadia to yell and buck with even greater fervour. She pushed again and the second, slightly larger ball was suctioned smoothly in. Sadia was grunting now and her thrusts became violent slams. The slave began to moan urgently. Angel pushed and twisted once more and the final two balls entered Sadia, leaving Angel enough to hold onto while she gently eased the thing in and out while Sadia bucked with ever greater frenzy.

At last both bodies reached a crescendo of slamming against each other and slave and owner locked into the equality of orgasm. Then Sadia slumped forwards and moaned feebly as Angel extracted the dildo before lying down beside the two fragrant and sweat-streaked bodies. Sadia's face was resting on one of the slave's heaving breasts. She opened her eyes and grinned at Angel.

"Fuck it from the back while I wax its tits," she whispered.

It took only a few moments to unbuckle the strap-on from Sadia and buckle it onto Angel, the thick shaft glistening and scented with the slave's discharge. Then the slave was knelt up and Angel knelt behind her, holding her by the shoulders while Sadia whipped the breasts until she judged they were properly sensitised for the wax. Bending the pliant body away from her with one hand, Angel located the head of the dildo at the slave's anus and then began a steady thrust. The practised orifice put up relatively little resistance and soon Angel could hold the slave tight against her and rub her own clit on the shaft as it steadily buggered the warm, soft body she held tightly against her, cupping the soft breasts carefully, so as not to get the wax on her fingers.

Sadia knelt in front of them and as Angel looked over the slave's shoulder, tipped the candles slightly so that blobs of wax could land first on one breast and then on the other. The body lurched against Angel as the heat came as a shock to the hooded slave. And she could feel the anguish as the heat intensified for a few seconds before it dissipated. And she could feel the tension in the body as it waited for the next bolt of bright pain to explode into its darkness.

Once she was sure that the slave was going to behave herself and obediently thrust her breasts forwards for Sadia, Angel let her hands run down to the beginning of the cleft of her sex and find the clitoris. It was still erect and hard from its whipping and the subsequent orgasms. Angel gently rubbed it as she ground herself against the dildo and pumped it into the slave's backside. She began to moan even as Angel felt the first stirrings of her own orgasm.

Sadia increased the tempo of the waxing. The slave jerked and trembled against Angel, who rubbed the girl's clit relentlessly and harshly.

Hot wax hit both nipples at once and the slave climaxed just as Angel found her own release and the room echoed once more to the combined shrieks of orgasm.