Lost Property (21 page)

He bent again, examined the iron again and decided it was just right, tapped it gently on the brazier’s edge, then in one smooth and decisive movement, turned and applied it to Agnetha’s pale skin. But apart from her head snapping back, which was all the movement she could make, she held her peace while Guillaume counted and the cellar filled with the smell of roast flesh, then at the signal he pulled it clear and the woman slumped forwards. Most of the crowd clapped, but some of the women waved their hands in front of their faces and complained about the smoke and smell. Gerhardt laughed and said she would be punished as soon as she was recovered.

Time and again during the evening Marcel returned to the blonde. She was in constant demand and served calmly and well at all times. The men were entranced by the strength of her pelvic floor muscles, the women loved her length of tongue and both sexes adored her stoical endurance under whatever was done to her. A stoicism that was only occasionally interrupted by orgasms that produced squirts of thick ejaculate and which entertained the company greatly.

At last he retired to bed with a sleepy and replete Marie. The final act of the evening was to fuck his step-sister while Blondie lay behind him and licked his balls.

The following afternoon he showed those of his guests who hadn’t had to leave or who were still asleep, around his zoo.

There were some twenty or so, some who had seen it before and some newer friends who had yet to see it.

Marcel led them along a stone tunnel that came off the back of the cellar they had occupied so enjoyably the previous evening and which was being cleaned as they passed through. It had once been an escape route during the Revolution but now led to an outbuilding that he had converted for his own very special purposes. The group emerged into a low and spacious building that had a very odd layout. Chairs and tables were laid out on the huge floor area and there was a bar in one corner. But the main part of the floor was filled by elongated glass cubes, enormous ones, they stretched into the room from the left hand wall. And within the cubes there were people. To be more precise there were girls and women. As the group approached the enclosures the new guests dropped their voices until Marcel put them at their ease.

“It is a revolutionary new glass that is completely one way visually and which is impervious to everything up to a direct hit by a shell. Let me show you.”

He picked up a wrought iron chair and approached the nearest glass cube. Within it was a room furnished with a bed, beyond that room but still within the glass was a bathroom and toilet and beyond that was a day room with an array of gym equipment as well as chairs and a TV set. The suite was occupied by a tall black haired girl who was naked and who was currently lying back in one of the chairs with one leg cocked over the arm and with one hand idly rubbing her clitoris. Marcel approached and swung the chair with all his might. It hit the glass with a dead, thunk sound and rebounded, almost taking him off his feet. The girl never stirred.

“You see, inside the walls are dark and solid looking. They have no idea that we are here or that we can see them. No noise or vision penetrates from the outside. In a minute you will see…ah!”

There was a door into the day room and this now opened to admit Guillaume. He closed and locked the door behind him. The girl sat up and grinned lasciviously at him. The onlookers saw his mouth open and close, and the girl’s, but no sound escaped. They watched as he put her up against the wall right in front of their faces, her breasts flattening and going white against the glass, her face looking straight into theirs, seeing nothing. Some of the first time female guests stifled excited yelps as she was restrained, spreadeagled in front of them and behind her Guillaume shook out his favourite single tail.

“She has thirty lashes twice a day,” Marcel explained. “Even after last night there are no allowances made.”

He moved on as the whip began to fall and the girl’s body flinched and twisted alluringly against the glass. “Let’s have a look in the other cages and you’ll notice that you can walk down the sides, so there is nowhere that you cannot see. You’ll notice the daylight tubes from the roof? I believe a slave flourishes best in near-natural conditions. The cage doors lead into a corridor that leads down the outside of the building. No clue about this observation lounge can be garnered from the front. We can observe their behaviour in complete privacy from here.”

“She’s a new addition isn’t she?” Sir Willoughby asked, reluctantly tearing himself away from the beating.

“She is, and she’s another arena purchase. But a rather special one!” Marcel replied. “Now our next exhibit you didn’t meet last night, they were given to me by the Prince of Bakhtar in payment for some small service I rendered him.”

The next cage was much bigger and housed six, beautiful, olive skinned girls who were currently in their bedroom, which they shared, they were combing each other’s hair as each emerged from the shower and helping each other to put on make up and to dress in filmy and sparkly costumes.

“They will entertain us tonight with dancing. After that they may be taken to bedrooms but I’m afraid I don’t want them beaten or used hard at all, they’re promised to a friend of mine for a week or so.” He paused awhile as some members of the party went along the sides of the cage and one drew their attention to the fact that one girl had her hand working deep between another girl’s legs. Marcel smiled and joined the group who began to relax and laugh openly as they watched the two girls entwine and recline back on a bed, the few garments they wore were soon removed and in front of their invisible audience the two smooth and lissom bodies wove together. A third girl went a bedside cabinet and took out a strap-on, to much enthusiastic encouragement from outside her cage she knelt behind the girl who was on top on the bed and with a bit of effort managed to sink it into her cunt.

“Can you get sound on this, Marcel?” one guest asked.

“We can, but may I suggest you return this afternoon and you can enjoy a pre-dinner drink and watch their antics at your leisure. You can also have one or two exhibits introduced into another cage and see what ensues. Alternatively you can have an exhibit beaten, or pierced for your pleasure. But for now, I really just want to show you something that I had intended to keep secret but simply cannot resist telling you, my dear friends, about!”

He led them past several more of the hi-tech cages, each of them containing a slave from various parts of the world, all of whom had served the previous night and who were recovering now.

“We will allow them to play later for your entertainment, but now, come to the last cage!”

The party, attracted by the eagerness in Marcel’s voice, scurried after him and arrived at the final cage. In it was a tall, voluptuous blonde who had obviously been recently severely whipped and was on her knees thanking her flagellator. There was an awed silence as they watched the woman finish swallowing then stand up as the man left her. Her hands were clipped together behind her back and she was facing away from them but as the door closed, she flicked her blonde hair back and turned to face them. There were gasps and shrieks as they recognised Blondie.

“You were playing with her all last night!” Marcel told them delightedly, and allowed himself to be persuaded to recount the true story of how he had got hold of her.

“But what will you do with her?” Sir Willoughby asked. “She’s priceless! Undefeated! A legend!”

Marcel stood close to the glass as the blonde approached looking moody and bored, alone of all the cages her dayroom consisted of a straw bed with a sheet thrown over it and some gym items. There was not one item of comfort.

The blonde came right up to the glass and stared out as Marcel came close to the other side and caressed her face through the two inch thick wall.

“Undefeated? They all say that about the great Blondie, don’t they? But it’s not really true. Not really. She has been beaten in single combat just once.”

His audience looked at him blankly.

“Does anyone remember a then-unknown gladiator being beaten in a cage fight and being spirited away from Conor Brien’s stable, only to re-appear at The Lodge in England under the care of Carlo Suarez?”

“But that was ages ago! Since then she’s…”

“She’s gone on to be the invincible Blondie,” Marcel finished for Sir Willoughby.

“She threw that fight! Everyone says!” he responded.

“Has she ever said as much?” Marcel asked. There was a shaking of heads. “Then we don’t know for sure.”

“But look here, the girl who beat her’s long gone, Marcel.”

He took a deep breath, savouring the moment. “No she hasn’t. Come with me!”

He strode back along the cages until they came back to the first cage. There he presented his newest acquisition with a flourish. “This is none other than the long lost fighter who was in the cage that night with Blondie. Ladies and gentlemen, in a few weeks I intend to find out, once and for all, whether Blondie really deserves her reputation for being ‘undefeated’ in single combat. I will put her in a cage with this one and let them fight it out all over again!”

There was immediate uproar, mostly of joyful exuberance at the prospect of finding out the answer to the question that everyone had debated or glossed over for so long.

They watched as the dark haired girl was taken down and mounted on a dildo set in the seat of a rowing machine and put to work.

“She was out of the arenas for a while and is just getting back into form, but will be ready very soon, so Guillaume informs me. Tickets will go on sale shortly to a carefully picked audience, and you, my good friends will be at the head of the queue. Of course I was reluctant to kidnap such a piece of work as Blondie, but could you see Carlo Suarez risking his precious prize possession on a single fight? No! Of course not! So as a sportsman I had to act once I found – or once I was able to buy - this one. Now it must remain a closely guarded secret of course, otherwise Mr Suarez will be sure to try and spoil the fun!”

He offered to show them all the provenance they wanted to confirm the dark haired girl’s identity and led his guests back into the house.

Blondie wandered around her quarters, impatient for the man to return and release her hands so that she could work out on the machines. Or maybe she would be run in harness, she needed to be active! The previous night had been good, these people had got their money’s worth out of her, the breast suspension and whipping at the end had been exceptionally good. She glanced down proudly at the lines still engraved in the roots of her breasts from where the ropes had held her. Pretty soon now her travelling crate would arrive and she would be flown home to her own stall, where she would know all the other slaves and grooms and where her Master could always find her and take his pleasure with her. This had been the longest hiring out she could remember and she wanted to go home.

She looked around her at the strange, smooth, dark walls. It just didn’t feel right. No one had assessed her welts and marks for recovery time before transporting her home, and in her experience that always happened the morning after a party. The hirers were always anxious not to run up too big a bill! A nasty little kernel of unease was beginning to unfurl in the pit of her stomach. Blondie wanted to go home.

Chapter Fifteen

Kath squinted down at her breasts and tried to settle them a bit more comfortably within the corset. Comfort, however, she reflected grimly, was not what the things had been designed for – quite the reverse in fact. This was an arena boxing corset. It was made out of leather and considered purely as an article of female apparel, it did the superb job of accentuating the female form that all basques did. It nipped in the waist, supported the bust and drew the beholder’s eye to the flare of the hips. However, the outside of it was covered in small round metal plates at regular intervals and on the inside of the garment each metal plate became a sharpened stud. They were not needle sharp, but they were pointed enough.

Kath could feel them just warming to her skin, they nuzzled her cosily, pressing against her stomach and sides and the undersides of her breasts, where they rested on them. Now she was trying to get her nipples positioned between them so that a jab wouldn’t dig a stud into her tender nubs. Eventually she was satisfied and Helga pulled on the lacing at the back, drawing the metal even closer to her flesh and making the corset almost a second skin. Then the groom moved round to stand in front of her and held up the leather thong. Kath swallowed nervously and nodded, reaching for the groom’s shoulder to steady herself as she lifted one leg.

They had practised boxing, of course they had. They had had the Velcro straps wrapped around their fists and Mike and the others had drilled them on jabbing and hooking and combination punching on hanging bags in one of the barns. They had tried on the corsets, but as the boss had said; there was no way to practise beyond that, you just had to do it. And today she was going to do it. So was Annie. It was their chance to get revenge on One and Two for the wrestling match.

Because of the severity of Kath’s punishment, this bout had been delayed and in the fortnight it had taken for all her welts and bruises to fade, she realised she had assumed some kind of celebrity in the eyes of the other girls. She alone amongst them had faced the full fury of the stable’s discipline and had come through it. None of the others wanted to go there and respected her having done it. Whatever her crime had been didn’t matter any more, she was one of them. For a couple of days she and Annie had been left in a cell on their own and had slept and made love and Annie had tended her various hurts.

Kath was ecstatically happy she realised as she lifted her other leg and stepped into her boxing thong and Helga eased it up her thighs.

This was the bit that she was both dreading and looking forward to. The thong itself had the same studs on the inside. The triangle at the front of the scrap of leather was arrayed with potential torment for the girl wearing it. For a masochist it could provide instant orgasm, and therefore defeat, if struck. Helga pulled the thong up, made sure the thin strap sat comfortably along the perineum and up between the buttocks and then returned to the business end. She pulled the front away from Kath’s pubic mound and reached in, using her fingers to part the labia and then gently allowing the leather to settle back.

Kath could feel the cold metal kiss her sexflesh, there was even one of the evil little studs nestling right up against her clitoris. A solid jab there and she would be helpless. But it was the same for their opponents. She glanced across at Annie and they exchanged smiles. They would fight in adjacent rings and Kath had drawn the brunette.

Helga wrapped her fists in the weighted straps and she was ready.

Out in the gym the other slaves knelt along the length of one wall again, and again Mike and the boss led out their teams to stand by the rings.

“Rules?” Mike asked.

“Nah! Except body shots only, head shots mean a whipping on the spot,” the boss replied again, much as Kath had expected. “Apart from that, knockdowns to the count of ten.”

“One or two?” Mike asked.

The boss made a show of inspecting the girls in front of him. “They look strong enough, let’s make it two.”

Kath smiled inwardly at the helpless masochist she was. It meant that the loser would take a real pounding, being put down and counted out twice before the contest ended, but she couldn’t wait to see how she took what the ring would throw at her as she ducked in and began to limber up.

There was no bell, just a blast from the boss’s whistle and then the brunette was coming for her. Kath’s first reaction was that the girl looked fabulous. The corset suited her so well that all Kath wanted to do was rip it off her and have her, but fortunately the sight of the weighted straps across the knuckles that wove threateningly in front of her, calmed her libido and she got down to work. Any girl knew that breast shots and uppercuts were contest winners so both girls kept their elbows in and crouched forwards. The brunette made the first swing, trying to club a punch into Kath’s ribs but Kath saw it coming and swerved away in time. She jabbed in return and managed a blow low down on the girl’s stomach before she could get her guard up again. The brunette gave out a gasp as the punch drove home and Kath’s spirits soared.

She feinted a jab to the girl’s right side, she swivelled and covered up allowing Kath to get a straight right hand into her exposed left side. Again there was the gasp and Kath felt the impact this time. The weights made the punches slow, but they made them telling. The girl tried to dive in on Kath, unleashing hooks to right and left. But Kath covered up and gritted her teeth, preparing to take the punches to her sides. The girl collided with her, face to face and with Kath’s fists gathered at her chest. Kath watched her face as she rammed her own tits onto Kath’s fists. Her punches landed almost painlessly behind the studs on the sides of Kath’s corset and her mouth opened in a silent gasp of pain and then Kath pushed her away, she staggered, helplessly absorbed in the pain and pleasure at her breasts and Kath went straight in for the kill, almost laughing with pleasure at how easy it had been. Two straight jabs landed squidgily, one on each tit and the girl reeled back even farther and into the ropes. Kath lowered her fists and hooked from left and right. The girl covered up and bent forwards, twisting to left and right as the blows landed. While she was distracted, Kath let loose a straight jab that drove in to the breasts. The girl went down onto one knee and Mike started counting. Kath stood at the regulation distance of three feet and waited. The arenas believed in punishing failure and the crowds wanted spectacle not fair play. At five the girl staggered up and immediately had to cover up in the face of Kath’s joyful onslaught. She bent so low that she had to be careful not to earn herself a whipping by hitting above the shoulders. But she hooked up into the girl’s midriff, mainly hitting her arms and fists but digging them into the studs nonetheless. The girl began to totter and Kath remembered her training, she looked again and saw the girl’s legs were splayed. Almost laughing aloud, Kath dug a final left towards her opponent’s breasts and then immediately swung a right hook between her legs from behind. She felt her fist sink into the plump cushion of the brunette’s cunt and she toppled forwards onto her face, crying out and curling up, cradling the hurt. Or was she coming? Kath stood over her as Mike counted, it was hard to tell. She rocked about and moaned and as the count got to ten and stopped she grabbed a rope and hauled herself up again. Her hair was dishevelled and hung over her eyes but Kath could see the light that burned there and realised that whether she had come or not, she knew the only way to avoid her master’s wrath was to go down fighting.

Kath smiled fiercely and allowed the girl to come away from the ropes – always put on a show! For her part, the brunette did well. She knew that the game was almost certainly up and so threw caution to the wind and went for Kath with both fists swinging in wide and slow arcs that would have put her down if they had connected, but Kath was floating on adrenalin by then and ducked and bobbed fluently until she got another straight jab in to the breasts. The girl staggered but came on again. Again she took a jab and again she came back for more, her fists by now were hanging by her sides, the weights having taken their toll. Kath realised that her opponent was almost at the point of orgasm and began to put on a show herself. She started fending her off with little powder puff pushes to the breasts and actually saw the disappointment on her face when they weren’t real blows. But it allowed her to make one more rally and come at Kath again – who knew that Mike would have seen that and would have liked it. Kath danced back, making her miss time and again, exhausting herself until finally Kath was able to grab the girl’s hair with one hand and with the other wind up an uppercut. She telegraphed it outrageously, windmilling her fist before the dazed girl’s half-closed eyes. Vaguely she heard rising cheers from the audience as they saw the brunette’s widely straddled legs and then Kath swung in the final blow. The brunette played her part well and took the full impact but jumped into the air as if she had been lifted bodily by the punch, then she crashed down and was counted out again.

Kath looked across to see Annie back her opponent into a corner and begin to pummel her. It looked like that was going well too. She turned back to the brunette, sprawled on the canvas on her back, her breast heaving as she panted for breath, and she stood over her face then carefully sank to her knees, parting them wider and wider until she felt her fallen foe’s mouth begin to pay tribute to her, kissing her gently either side of the thong, just at the apex of her thighs, her labia feeling the soft pressure of the kisses and her cunt aching for more.

Outside the ring, money was changing hands as the boss counted the black girl out for the second time and Kath and Annie had their revenge.

When the flogging had been completed and the girls had gone on to sparring and log pulling outside, Brian picked up the phone in his office.

“Mr Mostyn, I think we’re ready now.” He listened for a moment. “Yes, two weeks is fine. See you there.”

Sharon couldn’t believe the joy of feeling her blood pounding through her veins, keeping the rain and mist at bay even though she was cunt naked. She was learning more about herself and about this new life every day now. She was toiling uphill, her bare feet squelching through puddles of brown water that lurked between tufts of coarse grass. Behind her was a log, chained to a yoke that passed across her shoulders. Her arms were outstretched and her wrists clipped to the yoke. Her right hand touched the left one of some white girl they had shackled to the same yoke. And That Man was driving them at the end of a whip up a steep hillside, out in the wilds somewhere. She dug in hard, desperate to please him, cursing the stubborn piece of timber that lurched behind them, catching in everything, sinking into every mire they waded across. It was a nightmare, except that with this special man’s voice urging them on as if they were a team of horses and flinging blazing hot lashes down onto their sweating backs and across their flanks, it was where she wanted to be.

“Whoa! You lazy bitches!” he called eventually and they were allowed to stop, their breath and sweat enveloping them in clouds of steam.

“Okay, not too bad!” he said, rubbing both girls lightly with one hand, across their shoulders and running the now-coiled whip across the upper swells of their breasts with the other. Sharon’s heart swelled with pride and she glanced across at the other girl who returned the smile. The man broke out a bar of chocolate and fed both of them a small piece.

“Right. We’re going to leave the log here, jog down and then we’re going to get another one and bring it back up here.”

Neither girl could restrain a groan.

“Shut that!” he snapped. “You’re still two seconds slower than the best team. I’ve got fifty quid that says I can lash you two tarts up here faster. If you can’t do it, I’ve got four stakes here that say I’ll stake you out and give you each fifty lashes! Now let’s go!”

Sharon considered what it would be like to be staked out on the freezing, wet grass for beating and decided she had something left in reserve after all, she looked across at the other girl and hoped that the bitch did too.

A quarter of an hour later they lay at the top of the hill. Sharon could feel her heart pounding fit to burst from her chest, her legs trembled and her arms were numb from pulling at the yoke. In front of her face the man’s boots squelched to a stop.

“Just goes to show what a lazy bunch of sluts you are. That was three seconds inside the best time. All it takes is a bit of encouragement!”

He bent down and she felt his strong arms lift her and set her back on her feet, then he helped her partner up and again produced a bit of chocolate. Then he left them to go and sit on a rock and enjoy the view for a while.

Sharon heard his mobile ring and watched as he took the call.

“Yes, two weeks is fine, Mr Mostyn! We’ve got a stable here!”

The man strolled back with a rare smile on his face and his hand hovering at his flies.

“Now which of you is going to get this, eh?” he asked, pulling his erect cock out of his trousers. Both girls were far too well trained by then to attempt any answer to the rhetorical question and waited quietly as he pushed them both down onto their knees. In the end, Sharon got first suck as he said he liked her mouth and lips. The other girl got second suck and when he came he shared it out between them, spraying their faces and making them hang their tongues out shamelessly as they sought to catch every drop they could.

Steve and Alex finished lashing their teams over the line and the squealing, jiggling onlookers quietened down as it became clear that Steve’s pair had won by a nose. It had been a good log pulling race, plenty of whipping and a close finish as well. Kath was coming to realise that an arena slave had a lot in common with an arena spectator. They both liked what was done in the arenas!

The pull had been over rough terrain in one of the fields some distance from the house and as the two teams knelt and recovered, the boss gathered them all round in a close ring with himself at the centre. He made sure that each girl was split up from her sister and Kath found herself between Number One and Number Nine.