Into The Arena (3 page)

"They're just ordinary people who get their kicks this way. Nearly every woman in the audience has been in the ring at one time or another, and most have had a good public thrashing too. Does it excite you Tara?"

"No!......I......I don't know." She did though. She knew her cheeks were flushed, and that if she looked down at her chest, the flush would be spreading down towards her breasts which felt tight against the bodice of her dress. And worse, she knew that her nipples would be proudly pushing the fabric into telltale peaks which Conor couldn't fail to notice. As for her sex, it had been on heat nearly all day and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat as her thighs rubbed the wet rag that her lacy thong had become.

She attempted a rally and sat up, "So what's up next?" she asked brightly. "Naked male wrestlers? Or don't I get that lucky?"

Conor smiled calmly. "Sometimes we have them. There are quite a few mistresses about. But tonight it's all women, and you'll like the next fight. Dildos."

Tara was about to ask what he meant when the audience around them erupted again. Once more two men were leading women into the ring. But this time the women were already naked except for heavy strap-on dildos waving obscenely from their crotches and held on by leather harnesses which encircled their waists and thin straps which ran between their legs, either side of their labia up the buttock crease and then buckled onto the belts. One of the women caught Tara's eye, she was tall and slender with slight, but prettily uptilted breasts, her opponent was a big breasted woman, more stocky and less attractive in Tara's opinion. She was distracted by a waiter hovering at her elbow.

Conor shoved a wad of notes at her. "Last bets. There's two hundred there, put it on the one you reckon's going to get her dildo up the other first."

Tara swallowed hard. If she put on a bet, it would mean she was joining in, accepting everything, conniving with these people around her in the humiliation of the two women. But her mind's eye treacherously replayed some of the action from the previous fight, it had been savagely erotic. Naked women pitted against each other for the pleasure of an audience, the winner making money for her man, the loser risking a public flogging; complete humiliation, yet utterly raw sexual excitement.

"The tall one," she said curtly and gave the money to the waiter, who she now realised had been leering down the front of her dress. So what? The evening was hot with the atmosphere of sex. She straightened her shoulders and sat back a little to give him a better view as he wrote out her ticket and gave it to her. She noted quickly that she had backed Amanda.

The contest was a much tougher one this time. Both women were obviously more experienced, and, Tara noted approvingly, much more athletic and skilful. They didn't bother with scratching and slapping, they used their fists. Soon Tara herself was on her feet, yelling Amanda on as she traded blows with her heavier opponent, bravely shrugging off the impacts to breast and thighs. She managed to duck under her opponent's guard and throw her over her shoulder. The body arched high above the ring and bounced down heavily, but before Amanda could press home her advantage, somehow the woman rolled away and got back to her feet. Armlocks were applied and escaped from, bodies were sent hurtling into the ropes and took heavy punches on the rebound, but neither one gave way. It was a tense contest and the audience settled down to watch intently. Tara resumed her seat and felt Conor's heavy hand on her arm. She turned to him briefly and saw he was as flushed with excitement as she was. On an impulse she slid her own hand under the tablecloth and found his thigh. She let it slide up to his crotch and gasped as she felt the thick pole of his erection through his trousers. She tried to get her fingers to measure its girth and length, and gasped again. God, he was massive!

In return his hand moved down her side and she opened her legs just enough to let his fingers dive into the cleft between them and then she squeezed them tightly closed, imprisoning them and welcoming their touch on her soaked knickers. She gave in. Why pretend? This was sport at the edge. And sex.

She turned back to the ring just in time to see Amanda take a posting which drew a gasp from the audience. She tottered forwards, dazed by the force of the impact and was immediately picked up bodily and slammed down, this time on to her front. She arched and writhed but her opponent threw herself down onto her between her legs and bucked her hips savagely once, twice and at the third time Amanda arched again under her and moaned. Tara could almost feel how the rubber shaft would be spreading her labia and coldly shoving up into her vagina. While the men climbed back into the ring, the bigger woman took full advantage and subjected Amanda to a furious shafting.

Tara was beyond rational thought. Conor's fingers teased her relentlessly, her own hand was masturbating his huge cock through his trousers, and the stupid bitch Amanda had let her down in front of him, she deserved whatever she was going to get. Losers should learn from losing she thought angrily. Tara's own hand went out with the thumb down when Amanda's master picked her dazed body up from the canvas and slung her against the whipping post.

The eroticism of the tall girl's graceful figure tied with the arms raised didn't impinge on Tara this time. All she wanted was to see it writhe under the whip. And it did. She counted as loudly and fiercely as anyone as thirty lashes were laid on, striping the girl from shoulders to thighs. Amanda was louder than the previous loser and her wails and screams were plainly audible. It was music to Tara's ears and she gripped Conor's shaft fiercely as the writhings became slowly more sensuous and the screams became groans. Conor's fingers tormented her and by the time the whipping was over she knew she was perilously near an orgasm. She wasn't the only one she realised suddenly. All around her female hands had been slipped inside flies and were working on rigid cocks. At one or two tables, men sat back and women knelt before them, their heads bobbing up and down busily. It was too much for Tara, she had to get away.

"The next one's a whip duel. Want to stay?" Conor whispered.

"No, I.......let's go!"

They hurried upstairs ignoring the knowing smirk of the desk clerk. As soon as the bedroom door was closed, Tara began desperately tearing at Conor's clothes, all the long day's excitements now focused on a greater need in her vagina than she had ever experienced before. Conor lifted her skirt and with casual ease ripped her thong straps, yanking the tiny gusset away from her open and lubricated lips. She almost came when she felt him tear the meagre covering so easily and had to lean on him for support. But at last she had got his belt and flies undone and pulled down his pants. She looked down in awe at what her hands held. The massive plum coloured helm and its vein ridged shaft thrust up from his thick thatch of hair. Her fingers could hardly encircle it and trailed over the slit which was already exuding pearls of pre-ejaculate. It was by far the biggest member she had ever encountered.

"Oh Christ!" she murmured. "Oh yes!" She could feel her vagina clench and exude another flood of juice at the prospect of this monster stretching her labia and spearing up into her.

But suddenly his hand was clenched hard in her hair and her head was wrenched back so that she had to stare up into his eyes. His face was set and stern. She felt an iron hardness in his nature beneath the casual, humorous self-confidence of the exterior. Tara thrilled with apprehension at the thought of being alone with this extraordinary man.

"Now we shag till one of us can't go on. Right Tara?" he whispered fiercely. Again she felt as if she was stepping into a void and joyfully abandoned herself.

"Yes, till one of us begs for mercy," she whispered back.

They didn't make love. Not one kiss was exchanged that Tara could ever remember. It was simply her body versus his. The resilience of her vagina against the ferocity of his cock, the strength of her sex-drive against his endurance.

Their first coupling, with him standing and she riding his shaft - legs wrapped tight around his hips, resulted in an earth-shattering, blinding orgasm for her as she let her weight grind her down onto the most divine penis her body had ever played host to. But he didn't come, and when she had finished writhing and moaning he lifted her off and threw her hard down onto the bed, on her back. Then he lowered his powerful body down onto her and she relished his weight, crushing her, pinning her down as he penetrated her contracted vagina. She groaned at the deliciously remorseless way his shaft lanced and stretched her, inch by inch. She was bucking her hips up at him urgently even before he was fully in, her nails raking his back, greedy for another orgasm of the sort she had always dreamed about but had never achieved before this night.

And when his hard, pelvis-slapping thrusts began to batter her, she clenched every internal muscle she could, determined to milk those huge balls this time. Again and again he rammed her, shaking her like a rag doll but she clung onto him inside and when the world exploded in her head and she heard herself screaming in ecstasy, she was rewarded with the feel of his hot jets of sperm flooding the very neck of her womb.

But that was just the first skirmish in a war of attrition.

For a while they lay and savoured their own pleasure, then Tara let her hand begin to stray down over Connor's powerful chest, down across the muscular stomach until it found the wiry pubic hair and the slick, flaccid tube of the penis. She cupped the loosely hanging balls and juggled them gently, then stroked the penis itself. It stirred under her fingers and began to throb back into erection, hardening and growing until it forced apart her circled forefinger and thumb. This was the cock of her dreams and she wasn't going to waste a second of this night. She swung her leg over and straddled Conor, holding her own labia open with one hand, she gripped his wonderfully stiff cock with the other and fed it into her. Slowly she let herself slide down and down, loving the way she could feel her vaginal tunnel easing open once again, welcoming the shaft that was filling it. She let her breath out in an 'Oof!' when it finally reached full penetration. Again they drove each other to climaxes, Conor's hands mauling her breasts, pulling hard at her nipples, making her gasp and bounce even harder on him even while she leaned her full weight into those same hands and let him do as he pleased. She had never been played with so roughly, but couldn't pretend that she didn't like the way the stabs of pain from her nipples, standing out like dark red bullets, mingled with the breathtaking onrush of her third orgasm which exploded inside her as she felt yet more of his hot spend spurt up into her.

Time and again he throbbed back into erection until Tara lost count of the penetrations and orgasms. Once, in a sexual frenzy the like of which she had never experienced before, she licked him back into life. She took a deep and perverse pleasure in tasting her own juices on her tongue, as well as the salty flavour of his spend. She had never licked a man before.

But at last, as grey light was beginning to filter through the curtains she gave in. Her vagina burned and stung unbearably, her breasts felt bruised and they ached from the manhandling and constant arousal. She groaned when Conor heaved himself onto her once more and she felt the dome of his helm begin to push up into her semen-flooded and contracted tunnel.

"No!" she pleaded. "Please no more!"

"Mercy?"

"Yes, mercy, please!"

Almost casually he flicked her over onto her face and shoved her knees up under her torso, so that her bottom stuck up in the air facing him. Suddenly she realised that though her devastated sex might be spared her anus wasn't going to be. Never, never had she contemplated allowing a man into that passage, or even imagined a man wanting to enter her there.

"No! Please not there!" she cried out. "Aah! No!"

But two fingers had been wiped up the groove of her sex, to collect some of the spend and juice which was coating it and then thrust brutally into her opening, levering the tight muscles apart. Then as she gritted her teeth in anticipation of the pain to come, she felt the blunt head of his enormous cock push into her. It was well lubricated by repeated ejaculations and her own vagina's passionate response but even so it slid in with exquisite pain. Conor's free hand gripped the back of her neck and pushed her face down into the bedding to stop her escaping, and that muffled her screams of disgust and pain as she felt herself prised wider and wider open. She was sure she would tear and was sobbing in despair when at last the head was in and there was a slight lessening of pressure as her muscles clamped shut around the shaft. Desperately she tried to relax to save herself further pain but was distracted by the alien feeling of her bowels wanting to empty even as they were being filled - and then filled some more. On and on he drove, remorselessly spearing up into the tight tender tissue, squeezing sperm out of her sex as he compressed it from behind. At last Tara felt his pelvis against her buttocks and knew that she was fully impaled on him.

"There's always got to be a penalty for losing Tara, " he told her, his voice soft, almost sympathetic above her back. "Or where's the fun in winning? Remember that."

And then she felt his hands brace themselves on her hips. She grabbed a fistful of sheet and stuffed it into her mouth to bite on just as he began to shaft her. She screamed on every thrust and whimpered at each withdrawal, feeling as though her entrails were being ripped from her at one moment and then pushed up into her stomach at others. And all the time the strange compression of her vaginal channel, the membranes still super-sensitised, worked an insidious spell on her and pain and pleasure began to mingle in ways she had never imagined they could. She didn't have a physical orgasm when at last he jetted his final spurts of hot sperm into her, but it was almost a mental one. In the mists of her exhausted brain the thought formed that this was somehow right.