Into The Arena (10 page)

As the days wore on they became used to nipple clamps, suspensions and bondage - especially breast bondage. Tara was amazed at the men's skill with rope, and even more amazed at how they could make her breasts stand out in straining, throbbingly tight bulges with their carefully applied loops, cunningly knotted across her chest, or looped behind her to imprison her arms and wrists, then through her crotch to torment that as well.

And always there were the implements like the crop, the cane and the various whips which invariably preceded the masterfully hard penetrations of their sexes.

So constant was her state of arousal as the ship ploughed slowly South, that Tara never gave any thought to anything other than the next training session, contest, or the next 'playtime'. And that the ship was steadily heading into warmer latitudes was made plain by the men who started wearing just shorts and deck shoes, which cranked up the atmosphere in the hold another few notches. Even when she was strapped down to one of the many benches, or even held spreadeagled against the bars of the door to her cell, Tara watched the sweat-gleaming, muscular male bodies as sometimes two of them worked on her, applying nipple clamps followed by labial clamps, then tying these to her widespread thighs before making full use of her pulled-open vulva. Sometimes they used a crop or cane on her thighs first, making her bite her lip against the pain and then flogged the pinkly vulnerable vulva itself, inner lips a-quiver, with a martinet or scourge. And she would howl in wordless anguish at the blasts of mingled agony and lust, while trying to tilt her hips forward greedily to experience the next bout of pain. If they made her come before they thrust their hard cocks deep inside her, then all they had to do was bite or twist her aching nipples as they rammed into her to send her spiralling into an outer void of delirium which she had never before experienced.

But there was one fly in the ointment as far as Tara was concerned. She continued to be undefeated, except in that one contest in which Carlo had set her up to lose. She burned for revenge.

No longer were numbers pulled at random. Carlo called the girls out for contests after carefully consulting his clipboard. And he no longer called out numbers. All the girls now had nicknames, given them by the guards. The black girl was Jet, the redhead was Carrot, the girl in the cell opposite Tara was Channel - due to the tremendous elasticity of her cunt which could hold seven or eight of the long slender candles the men used for hot waxing them. But it was the girl called Cherry who Tara listened for, the only girl who had ever beaten her; named for the deep red of her nearly constantly erect nipples.

But it wasn't until a couple of days before they made land that Tara got her chance. Carlo obviously had something special planned on the afternoon of that day. When the first girls were called out they were taken above deck. Tara felt her heart pound at the thought of what going up there had meant before. The remaining girls looked fearfully at one another, but two guards remained below and no one spoke.

It was a long time before the girls came back. They were bathed in sweat and were both scratched and dirty, but one - a girl they called simply Tits - bore the thin, livid traces of a multi-thonged whip on her back, shoulders, buttocks, sides, and even her thighs, the criss-crossing welts wrapping right round into her crotch. It was only then that Carlo told them what was going on.

"We dock soon. So today you are going to show the crew what you have learned. You remember all your lessons well, or.........." He pointed at Tits who was being chained up against the door of her cell as living proof of what to expect if they failed him.

Pair after pair were called out and returned with the losers all showing traces of much worse than usual punishment. Gradually Tara began to hope that this day would at last see her get her revenge as the pairs were called out and still she and Cherry remained. At last she and Cherry were the only two left. When they were called Tara stood up and smiled at the other girl who flicked her head back proudly and returned the smile.

Up on deck Carlo stopped them just as they stepped up into the still bright sunlight.

"I want a really good fight out of you two. You're the main event." He turned to Cherry. "If you lose, you're going get all that Blondie got before she fought you last time. If you lose, Blondie........." He took her face in one hand squeezing her cheeks painfully. "You're going to be strung up out here all night.......and maybe I'll let the crew have playtime with you as well. We've been at sea a long time!"

Both girls shuddered. Carlo had once again stage-managed things with clever, cruel precision. His main event starred two girls who were both desperate to win and who were both scared stiff of what would happen to them if they lost.

As they were led aft, down onto the main deck, Tara saw that a proper ring had been set up with four posts supporting three ropes. Within the square they formed, thin gym mats had been placed over the steel decking. They would cushion some of the impact of a fall, she reckoned but anything higher than a hip throw would be pretty jarring. Around the ring stood the crew, most of them stripped down to shorts, but their physiques were not a match for the guards. Some were short and skinny, some slender, some grossly fat and they all glistened with sweat under the hot sun. But from the looks they turned on the two naked female gladiators being led out to do battle, Tara was sure that it wasn't just the sun which had got them hot.

The girls were led through the throng and Tara felt hands stroking her thighs and buttocks as she went. It was the biggest audience she had had yet for her nakedness and athleticism and she felt herself begin to respond with that tingling heat at her nipples which began to spread down towards her sex.

Once inside the ring the girls were led to opposite corners and their wrist restraints were removed so that they couldn't be used to bludgeon their opponent. Carlo announced that this was to be a grudge match and the men cheered enthusiastically at the prospect of seeing some real venom between the combatants. There were no rounds of course and the contest would continue until one girl submitted in the usual way.

As they had rehearsed below decks so often, Carlo stepped out of the way - this time ducking out through the ropes - and the girls threw themselves at one another.

If Cherry had in any way been afraid of taking on Tara, unflogged and fresh, she didn't show it. As they cannoned together, breast to breast and Tara sought for an arm lock, she twisted and ducked, grabbing Tara by her thighs, then straightening. Tara was thrown clear over her shoulder and had to slam her feet down to lessen the breathtaking impact of her landing. For the next few minutes she writhed and squirmed on the end of an agonising wristlock until finally she could trip Cherry up, wrench herself clear and regain her feet. She looked down at the naked girl sprawling at her feet, her legs carelessly spread, her breasts heaving and trembling as she panted and moved. Her nipples were hard, straining bullets of the deep red colour which had given her name. And Tara knew how she felt. They were the focus of male lust which seemed to roll in waves from the audience and there was the added thrill of knowing that one of them was going to get an almighty thrashing from Carlo.

Tara felt intensely alive, even more than she had in the training fights below. Here she had a gallery to play to, a tough opponent and the risk of a serious whipping. Her blood sang in her veins and she grinned savagely while she let Cherry get up, then dived in and threw her, this time she followed the girl down and dug her elbow into her stomach as she landed. Then she rolled clear and again let the girl up. But Cherry came at her fast and low, smashing into her at thigh level and bringing her down. For several minutes they struggled in a blur of scratching and hair pulling, giving the audience a good show as breasts were squeezed and buttocks smacked and raked with clawed fingernails.

Although it was late afternoon by then, the sun was still blazing and both girls were already sweating freely. Their bodies were slick and gleaming. Their hands slid over each other in a parody of lesbian love. Tara felt every curve of Cherry's body against her own and her hands roved freely, seeking a hold anywhere. Each of them tried to get a thigh between their opponent's legs and jerk it upwards. At the same time they both tried to get their hands on each others' breasts or buttocks, digging their fingers deep into the slippery swells of soft flesh. As they rolled even their sweat-matted hair entangled and frequently they glared into each others' eyes.

But Tara was the stronger. Eventually she forced one hand down between their stomachs and grabbed at Cherry's luxuriant bush of pubic hair. Instantly the hands which had been clawing at Tara's buttocks broke their grip and she yelled as Tara twisted her own grip. With her other hand she got a handful of head hair, rolled clear, got her feet under her and dragged Cherry to her feet. She swung her around and propelled her chest first into a post. There was some padding on them but even so Tara heard the girl's breath explode from her lungs and knew she had got her. As Cherry staggered backwards, her legs spread for balance, Tara reached between them, but spurned the crotch grip. That could come later. For now she just lifted her, enjoying the soft wet feel of the sex lips against her palm. With her other hand she held the girl's shoulder and in one smooth movement lifted her high above her head, so that she was horizontal above her, her weight resting pleasingly on Tara's hand under her buttocks. From that height Cherry didn't dare wriggle too much and Tara took a couple of seconds to settle herself and straighten her arms. Then she flicked her hair clear of her face and looked around. The crowd was loving it and yelling suggestions as to what she should do next.

Tara smiled and strutted slowly around the ring, ignoring the strain on her arms and the sweat trickling freely down her face, running down her ribs and dripping from her breasts. Above her Cherry tried to reach down and distract her by grabbing at her hair and twisting it, and kicking backwards with her heels at Tara's arm. But she refused to let herself feel anything other than the elation of having this male audience appreciate both her body and her prowess. She wanted to make them wait for her next move. Slowly she backed into a corner, feeling the guards behind her fending off eagerly questing hands, then simply hurled Cherry diagonally across the ring. The girl's training stood her in good stead and she slammed her arms and legs down to break the fall but couldn't stop herself sliding out under the bottom rope and onto the deck.

Tara never gave it a second thought; she ran across the ring, vaulted easily over the top rope and pursued her victim. The guards had hurriedly cleared a space round the dazed Cherry and Tara was able to carry straight on as the girl staggered to her feet. This time she went for the crotch grip, sliding a thumb up between the slippery cunt lips and pressing hard between the sweat soaked buttocks until her fingers slid up into the rectum. Immediately Cherry was up on tiptoes, her hands fluttering uselessly about her own crotch and Tara's wrist. The girls were face to face and Tara could see the despair and the certainty of defeat in Cherry's eyes behind the tangled mass of hair. Frantically she shook her head, biting her lip to stop herself from begging. But Tara's blood was up and revenge was going to be sweet.

Slowly she tightened her fingers inside the other girl, feeling the rubbery septum dividing her two channels, and then squeezed. A wordless shriek escaped Cherry and her hands clasped Tara's wrist vainly. Tara merely used her free hand to reach for a nipple and squeeze that as well, forcing Cherry's hands to try and clasp this latest hurt. Again she glanced round at the crowd, they were pushing hard at the ring of guards and she could see the thumbs down signals everywhere. Again she smiled and in one move twisted the nipple hard then let go and slammed her hand down on her other wrist, jerking her clenched thumb and fingers clear of vagina and anus.

For a long second Cherry stood as though frozen, her mouth agape, eyes staring, her hands clasping one breast, then she began to totter forwards as the crowd yelled its approval. Tara grabbed her hair and flung her back into the ring then followed relentlessly. She knew it was all over bar the shouting, but she remembered her lessons well and played with Cherry, posting her time and again, then kneeling astride her as she lay sprawled on the mats and reaching between her legs to dig her fingers into her sodden quim and show the glistening moisture to the crowd before licking it off her fingers with relish. Twice more she tormented her with the crotch grip, letting the crowd's cheers rise to a crescendo before jerking her hand free and hearing the cheers transform into a half sympathetic, half salacious, "Ooooh!" as Cherry clenched her thighs together and slowly toppled, only to be dragged up and thrown again.

Tara was only vaguely aware that she was nearing an orgasmic pitch of excitement herself at the display of naked slavery she was contributing to. But suddenly, as she had Cherry once again with her arms twisted behind her back and was holding her near the ropes so the men could reach out and grope at her breasts and between her legs, she caught Carlo's eye. He nodded gravely and she understood that it was time to finish things. And in truth Cherry was virtually inert by then. Tara let her go, pushed her backwards and tripped her so she fell onto her back and lay spreadeagled, panting and gasping but motionless. Casually she walked round to stand over her fallen foe's head then knelt astride it. She pushed her knees out sideways to lower herself onto the waiting, gasping, mouth, stopping at a height which would make Cherry have to reach up with her tongue so the audience could see everything. She could hear the applause and feel the lust in the air around her and when the gently probing tongue licked hesitantly at her and then found the engorged nub of her clitoris, Tara melted, sweating, panting and crying aloud into the sweetest orgasm she had ever experienced.