Into The Arena

by Sean O'Kane

  "Easy girl," Carlo coaxed. "Save it for the next bit."

  And as he fed the thong up between her buttocks and reached round her to join the buckles at her hips she couldn't restrain bit-muffled screams and moans as she felt the studs press into every inch of her labia and even her clitoral hood, then even worse, along her perineum and up the cleft of her buttocks. Carlo carried on regardless and tightened the buckles in turn, making for a few moments of struggle as Tara tried to kick and squirm. But at last it was done and the men stood back to observe her panting, moaning form.

  "I can guarantee that when that comes off, she'll be hotter than a June day in hell," Carlo told his boss, grinning with delight at the picture Tara knew she made, as she wriggled helplessly, feeling the deliciously sharp pain spreading through her entire lower body. Then they added the tit straps.

  Again she grew 'skittish' as Carlo swapped her usual collar for her racing one and let the studded straps hang over her breasts before he looped them round and then tightened them. She squealed into her bit and twisted under her owner's iron grip on her shoulders as she felt her breastflesh pricked at what felt like a thousand places. Then they left her to settle down a bit before releasing her arms and leading her round by her reins with her wrists clipped safely behind her back.

  "They calm down pretty soon, but it takes a while to get used to having two shafts moving inside them," Carlo observed while Tara took her first few, wide legged steps. It was the oddest sensation she had ever felt. The studs at her breasts and groin had settled down to an insistent, exciting discomfort but the deep, intrusive way the dildo and butt plug seemed to shift and almost rub together as her body moved around them took more getting used to. Eventually they took her out into the stable yard and she was tethered by her reins to a rail. She looked down wonderingly at her breasts. They were redder than usual from the straps' constriction and stood out much more firmly, proudly and higher than normal. Carlo stood behind her and flicked his long whip over her shoulders to demonstrate how it could be made to snap at her nipples. To start with she flinched and twisted but Carlo stroked her back with the whip and 'shushed' her like a horse until she calmed.

  A new male voice joined those of Carlo and the Boss, and Carlo seemed to be instructing him on how she had been 'tacked up' and how she could now be controlled.

  "You'll need to get some practice in before I add my special juice on the butt plugs. They'll be a whole lot more lively after that, but we'll aim for a trial race in three days' time. Blondie here will pick the other runners tomorrow and we'll tack them all up tomorrow evening."

  The third man came round in front of her and untied her reins, she saw it was one of the smaller guards and assumed he must be one of the drivers. That impression was reinforced when Carlo accompanied them back into the tack room and instructed him on how to unharness her. She got skittish again when the butt plug was wrenched free and Carlo had to use his crop to calm her.

  But that night, when a stable girl chained her ankle for the night, she tutted at how red Tara's sex was and decided she would kiss it better before putting some stinging liniment on it. The girl knew her business and in the post orgasmic glow, Tara reckoned it had been a good day. She might sting a bit here and there, but the girls she had whipped at the posts on the training ground wouldn't quickly forget the humiliation of being whipped by another girl, let alone the pain of being whipped by Carlo straight afterwards. They wouldn't give her any trouble.

  The following day she made her selection of the other girls who were to pull the chariots. On her own rig she chose Jet to act as the second 'fighter' and two of the sturdier girls, Pinkie and Chestnut to do the real pulling and take the majority of the whip. The harnessing was done out in the stable yard as there were no fewer than eight girls to deal with. They were tethered to the walls of the stables by their wrists which were held above their heads and attached to iron rings in the masonry. It took two guards to tack up each girl as all of them squirmed and squealed as they experienced first the butt plugs then the dildos and finally the more comprehensively studded thongs being buckled on tightly. The yard echoed to the cries of the girls and the cursing of the men as they held on to wildly thrashing legs.

  Tara discovered that her second experience of the harness wasn't much easier than her first and she did her fair share of writhing and kicking as Carlo once again buckled the thong on. He and his men stood back to admire their handiwork, wiping sweat from their faces and exchanging observations about the line of squirming slaves before them. After a few minutes' rest they returned to their work and fitted the tit straps, one of them holding each girl pinned against the wall by her shoulders while his companion changed her collar, replaced it with the wider one and then buckled the loops onto each breast. Tara's torso twisted and her back arched as the studs pressed against her, a strained sigh escaping the bit which she clenched her teeth onto. All around her she could hear the other girls gasping and moaning around their bits too, and when she was able to glance around her she saw a line of painfully trussed slavegirls writhing erotically against the wall as they came to terms with this new torment and the strange sensations it brought with it.

  The following day the chariot teams spent nearly the whole afternoon in harness and began practising with the chariots themselves. By the evening they were beginning to settle down and concentrate on running and the morning after that they were taken into the arena and spent the whole day running circuits. The drivers concentrated on getting the feel of their teams and didn't risk too much mock combat so close to the actual show. However they made no allowances as far as the whip went and all eight girls were salivating around their bits, their bodies burning and stinging in the aftermath of the lashings when they were finally unhitched and allowed to rest.

  Chariot racing was the final skill the squad had to learn and so from then on Carlo instituted a regime of steady, not-too-strenuous practices and a suppressed excitement spread throughout the stable as the girls realised this meant the two days of savagely erotic combats in the arena and the pens before a full audience was now imminent.

  Finally the day came when Tara was woken by the sound of helicopters, one after the other, clattering overhead, hovering and then landing. She knew that the arena at last beckoned in earnest. All the practices were over. Now she and her squad had to perform for real - against unknown foes. And her pulse raced at the thought of that challenge.

  She knew that this day would be spent in last minute preparations but in the evening they would get their first sight of the opposition when they would all be paraded for inspection by the Boss's special guests. Bets would be laid and estimates made about the fitness of the girls, their stamina, their strength. And Tara couldn't wait for the admiring hands and looks she knew that she and her well-trained squad would receive.

  But she did have to wait. All through a long day of tedious idleness she lay chained to her bed and listened to the bustle going on out in the stable yard. At last, in the early evening, a stablegirl entered her quarters with several metallic objects and brusquely hauled her to her feet and had her bend over and touch her toes. Something cold but not too thick made contact with her sphincter and even before she had time to shiver, it had been pushed deep inside her and it widened as it went, stretching her until she cried out and got a ringing slap on her bottom.

  "Hold still!" the groom scolded and pushed harder so that Tara gritted her teeth as the wretched thing stretched her wider and wider and its coldness radiated out strangely from deep in her entrails. She recognised the shape by its feel now, it was the same as the rubber butt plugs she had got used to wearing for pulling the chariot but it seemed to be made of some kind of metal. The groom gave a final grunt of effort and wrung another cry from Tara as finally the plug went right in and her abused sphincter closed slowly on the flange at the base which would stop it falling out or riding up. But at the same time Tara felt that strange coldness touch the length of her vulva. She glanced up between her legs an
d saw a curved, triangular tongue of metal which had to be mounted on the base of the butt plug, pushing through between her legs and up towards her lower stomach. She was ordered to stand and was allowed to walk around her stall to settle the plug in. Her body's own heat overcame its metallic coldness quite quickly and she settled down to the by-now familiar discomfort of moving with her rectum stuffed. But when she looked down at her front she loved what she saw. It looked as though she was wearing a metal ‘cache-sexe’, it was some kind of bronze she surmised and had a large ring hanging from the front of it, just about where her clitoris was. It looked harshly sexual, entirely in keeping with her life, Tara thought.

  Next she was made to stand with her hands behind her back while her nipples were dealt with. The groom fiddled irritably with them, squeezing and tweaking them into erection while she grumbled to herself.

  "If I could whip the bitch, this would be a lot easier. Come on, let's have you, you little buggers, I need you standing out good and hard......" she gave a grunt of exasperation at Tara's nipples' refusal to perform adequately and quickly bent her head to suck and lick them while one hand pressed the metal at her crotch hard against her vulva and clitoris, making the plug shift in Tara's rectum and forcing a groan of delight from her.

  Once the nubs of pink flesh had hardened and darkened their colour, the groom slipped cones of the same metal over them and while Tara looked on with the detached calm that overcame her whenever someone worked on her body with no regard to her at all, one by one the groom took thick rings which were obviously sprung and, struggling to open them she slipped them over the cones and released them when their ends were in line with holes on the sides of the cones.

  Tara took in a deep hissing breath twice as she felt the rings clamp themselves tightly either side of the nipples, crushing the tender flesh and holding the cones firmly on the tips of her breasts. But when she had blinked her eyes clear of the eye-watering pain and looked down, she had to admit the effect was spectacular. Her sex and breasts were emphasised and decorated with metal. The contrast between her softest female parts and the harshness of the metal sent hot tingles running through her and made her nipples swell and throb even more painfully against their constriction.

  Two coiled bracelets of the same metal were slipped up over her biceps and a strip of blue material was bound round her right arm above the bracelet. Blue, it turned out was the colour of Tara's stable, their opponents wore red.

  Pleased with her work, the groom clipped a lead onto the ring at Tara's groin and led her onto the training ground where twenty four sinister posts had been erected. In the light of her previous sufferings out here, Tara felt a surge of fearful excitement as she was tied with her back to the first post. Strangely though, her bondage was not severe, her wrist restraints were merely clipped to loops on the sides of the post. From the other barracks the rest of the squads were led out and she got her first glimpse of the opposition. They were generally darker skinned and more darkly tanned than Tara's squad, and they looked every bit as fit. All the girls were fitted with the same metal accoutrements and were all tied to the posts, blues all on one side, reds on the other. After a few minutes the guests began to arrive and for an hour or so the girls were surrounded by eager spectators who made quite free with their inspections of muscle tone and size, firmness of buttock and breastflesh, even teeth were examined and now and then Tara could hear bets being laid.

  She felt calm and strangely detached as she was discussed and fondled. All she could think about was the odd feeling in the pit of her stomach and suddenly she realised that it was the same feeling of excitement she had felt all those long months ago when she had stepped out of a plane and abandoned herself to the void. But now the arena beckoned with the promise of combat and competition against girls equally as tough as she and her squad. The exhilaration of that thought even blotted out the memory of her betrayal and abduction - and of the man who had done it.

  Tomorrow she would walk down the dark passage from the dressing room and out onto the bright sunlit floor of the arena, at the head of a line of drilled, disciplined fighting girls to receive the cheers and applause of the crowd. And somewhere in that crowd would be her owner - her master. The man whose vision and wealth had allowed her this supreme test of her physical abilities. And Tara would not fail him.

  THE END