by Sean O'Kane
As a result the second turn brought the crowd to its feet. All four rigs battled for position, the slaves at the ends of the front shaft equipped with the armoured gloves and arm guards, flailed madly at their opponents while both whipmen attempted to lash the oppositions’ slaves. Blondie – on the right of the line – was in the thick of the action and Brian laughed in delight as he watched her use all her experience in the arenas. Ignoring the lashes she was being hammered with by the opposing whipman, she reached back with her free arm and slammed it across her opposing slave’s lower back. Brian immediately saw to it that he added to the unfortunate slave’s problems by getting in a cutting strike across her shoulders. She arched and screamed around her bit, allowing Blondie to bring her arm forward again and then slam it back across her strap-imprisoned tits. She almost lost her footing and Brian tried to slice in further lashes to finish the job, but their driver was alert to the danger and once both rigs were back on the straight, he backed off to give the slave time to recover. In the meantime the second scarlet and black chariot raced through on their left and Jet was brought into the fighting as the chariots rattled and thundered towards the next turn. Both drivers held station and still skirmishing the rigs accelerated back up towards turn four and this time all four chariots took it almost level, the two outermost ones losing some ground inevitably but making some up by being able to turn faster as they made a wider arc. It seemed that for this first race it was to be pace alone that would decide it. Neither team seemed inclined to try and run the other off into the side or centre boarding. Brian was loving every second. The line of sweating backs and buttocks in front of him were impossible to miss even though sometimes his vision blurred as the chariot vibrated madly. The race was a pure test of whipcraft and speed. Brian and Juan won by a breast – the closest distance before a photo finish was declared.
The teams were given a ten minute rest while they were checked for lameness and given sips from flasks of carefully prepared liquid. The Salazar stable favoured a mixture of fruit juice and sperm. Brian was always amazed at how greedily the slaves tried to guzzle the foul stuff.
The drivers and whipmen passed among their teams patting a breast here, squeezing a nipple there, slapping buttocks and thighs. They whispered encouragements, stroked hair and made a fuss of the trussed and harnessed slaves. The object was to make them fiercely frustrated so they would race all the harder in the hope that a master would fuck them afterwards if they did well.
The scarlet and blacks turned out to be tougher than Brian had anticipated. In the next race the Salazar chariots could only manage third and fourth. In the third they made first and last. The fourth turned into a war of attrition and both the second chariots were driven into the sideboarding but again Brian and Juan scraped a victory. In the final race only three chariots competed, the Salazar second string having sustained damage to three of its slaves in the pile ups.
Brian had never worked so hard with a whip as he did in the final race. From the start he had no choice but to keep up a scalding blizzard of full blooded throws, putting his entire weight into each lash and making the slaves hurl themselves towards the finish. Once again they did just enough but as Juan reined in the tottering slaves, Brian knew the final day’s races would be far too close to call and to make it worse, Blondie was due to run solo in only an hour’s time.
Chapter 8
It had been a call that he and Carlo had been loath to make but no one had thought the chariot racing would be as tough as it had turned out to be. As the slaves stood trembling and gasping in their traces, he concentrated on the blonde. Her chest was heaving desperately and her back and ribs were crisscrossed by livid welts. Here and there the skin had split on her buttocks. Her breasts had not fared much better and as he stroked them, the soft skin now drum hard after the long constriction in the straps, the nipples straining to almost grotesque proportions, Brian knew he had to work fast. Leaving Juan to cope with the others he set about freeing Blondie and led her back to the dressing rooms. As soon as she was inside she stood with her legs parted and waited obediently for her next bout of pain. He took her bridle off first and then her collar. It hung on the straps that bound her tits and Brian carefully unbuckled those, feeling the slave tense against the moment when blood would flow back into starved tissue and the whip burn on her skin would be eclipsed by the deep hurt in her tits. Even with all her experience she couldn’t help stamping and rearing as Brian first unbuckled and then wrenched the straps off. The studs left little craters and some had made punctures where the boxing corset had also dug into her. Shushing her, Brian laid her on her back on the main massage table and began to ease the lower part of her harness off. Again the studs had left their marks but there was nothing too bad. The dildo almost floated out on the tide of sap she had produced while racing and fighting under the whip and the butt plug was easily expelled too. She bucked and writhed as the various pains grew and diminished, between her strong thighs her open cunt beckoned to Brian and in the end, once he had dabbed disinfectant on her injuries he parted the labia widely and looked inside her, sure enough she was awash with the thick discharge she was famous for producing in orgasm. From between her spread legs he looked up her body, past the slightly softened mounds of her breasts towards her head. He heard a rapid clicking from her tongue ring and decided on his best course of action. He let her cunt close and moved to where her head lolled, partly over the far edge of the table.
“Get a good drink, girl. You’re on again soon,” he told her as he unzipped his shorts and manoeuvred his rigid cock out. Then holding it angled down slightly he fed it into her eagerly waiting mouth. Not having much time, he couldn’t afford to savour the gentle squeezing of her throat, he just needed her to get the taste of a master down her gullet so she would run her heart out again. Having signalled his intentions to her he withdrew so that she could caress his helm with her tongue and its heavy ring until he felt the onrushing approach of ejaculation and rammed himself back into her. Her body stiffened in anticipation of the spurts and as he closed his eyes at the exquisite moment of eruption into the small space of a slave’s mouth, he felt her throat working frantically to get down every last drop of his sperm.
While she sprawled, limp and undone, he ran one shower until it was piping hot, then he stripped and helped her under it, guiding the shower head to between her legs and fetching groans of delight from her. Then with no warning after several minutes of hot soaking, he switched it to cold and watched, grinning, as Blondie squealed and wriggled like a little girl. Then he turned it back to hot and after a few minutes turned it back to cold again. By the time the others were being led back in, Blondie was dried, her hair clean and shining again, her eyes bright and she was tongue leashed, ready for action.
There was a roped off walkway from the dressing rooms at the circus to the racetrack and Brian had to be rather more curt than he would have liked with the admirers who leaned over the ropes to touch the famous gladiator as she padded meekly behind her trainer on her leash.
Carlo was waiting and was far from pleased at the amount of whip she had taken but accepted that Brian had had no choice.
While Carlo set about harnessing Blondie again, carefully lining up the studs so that they would go precisely where the last ones had and not spread the damage, Brian went over to see Purdy who was standing patiently between the shafts of her trap. Her breasts were exaggeratedly huge in their tight strapping but the other curves of her body helped keep them in some sort of proportion, Brian thought. In fact she looked stunning with her tongue just peeking out between her full lips and her dark eyes wide with arousal as she obviously felt the studs press her clitoris and her dildo and butt plug filled her passages to what must feel like bursting. She saw him coming and tossed her head in greeting before nuzzling the hand he put out to stroke her. Her oiled flesh shone in the early evening light and it felt warm and soft to his touch. She rested her head against his shoulder and champed at her bit as he let his hand
stray down across her stomach to the junction of her long thighs. She parted them obediently and he stroked her labia where the crupper strap of her harness divided them. She whined softly in frustrated desire for her master but he shushed her.
“You’ve got to run well tonight, girl. Blondie’s blowing before she starts and your driver will flog hard all the way.”
The qualifying rounds and her bouts in the pens had left her looking desirably well whipped already but Brian knew that by the time she was stabled that night she would have been flogged to the very limits of her training.
He squeezed a breast and pushed her away as he saw her driver take his seat in the lightweight trap. Purdy arched her neck and pranced a little as she felt the balance of the trap shift and knew that the race was about to start. Brian approached the lithe, sinewy man as he pulled the whip from its rest and shook out the stiff whipcord.
“You’ve seen Blondie?” he asked.
The man nodded.
“No mercy then.” He jerked his head back towards Purdy. “Whip her from start to finish. If she doesn’t win then it won’t matter if she goes down. Even with Carlo behind her, Blondie will be lucky to finish at all.”
The driver nodded tersely again and tightening his grip on the reins, pulled Purdy to the right and tapped her up to ‘walk on’ towards the start and finish line. The final race consisted of six laps of the track between the highest scoring rigs from each team.
From the start it was clear that Purdy’s driver had taken his instructions to heart. He abandoned all tactics and simply thrashed Purdy into a headlong gallop from the start. If Blondie was already exhausted, for the first three laps she gave no sign of it. From where Brian stood at the trackside he could only see the finishing straight, the tiered benches of the stands obscured his view but he could follow his team’s progress on the monitor screen in the tack room. The unmistakable blonde plait and the tall figure in front of the tensely hunched Carlo seemed to be loping easily in second place. The third time the four rigs rumbled along the straight, Brian could see that Purdy was sweating and grimacing around her bit as her driver maintained his punishing rate of whip strikes. As she passed him Brian watched her retreating back and smiled grimly. She would make an amazing fuck later on if the man taking her chose to dig his fingers into her arse while he rode her. Already she was sporting dark red ridges on the lush curves and the race was only half run.
Blondie had lost ground and although her head was still steady and her knee lift was still high, Brian could see some signs of raggedness creeping in. Carlo was looking uncharacteristically tense and only plying the whip sparingly – a sure sign he was worried. Normally Blondie almost demanded that her master flog her without mercy and seemed to thrive on it. The two scarlet and black rigs flashed past close behind, gaining ground with each pace. On the fourth lap their drivers began to open up with the whips in earnest and Blondie was running third as they began the fifth lap.
She hung onto third place through that lap but the two last traps were losing touch with the leaders. Purdy’s driver had at last begun to ease off the whip and was vocally urging her on while the second placed trap tried to close the gap he had opened up in the earlier stages. Brian suspected that Purdy was only being given a brief respite, the final lap would see her flogged on mercilessly.
The crowd was fully engaged with the struggle for third place however, the sight of the great Blondie struggling for a place was a rare one and as the traps rumbled past to begin the final lap, Brian could see that Blondie’s running action was ragged and Carlo was beginning to slash desperately with the whip, making her toss her head – a sure sign of a slave in the last throes of exhaustion. With a delighted whoop, the scarlet and black’s driver yelled at his slave and began to lash her with hard deliberate strokes and she accelerated until she was running alongside Carlo, who now began to yell at Blondie and aim the whip down over her shoulders so that her breasts took the brunt of the thrashing. Her head began to toss even more, spraying sweat and saliva into the floodlit evening air. The scarlet and black rig accelerated more and began to pull past Carlo.
Brian leaned over the barrier and craned to see the action as the rigs raced away towards the next turn. Suddenly Carlo stopped thrashing Blondie and as if it was some sort of signal between pony and driver, her knee lift came back, her head went down and suddenly the two rigs were matching speeds. Brian laughed aloud as he saw the trap that Carlo had sprung. He had tempted the scarlet and black’s driver into an overtaking manoeuvre as they were approaching a chicane.
The scarlet and black rig could choose to pile straight into the bales that jutted out into the track or fall back and risk not being able to get up to speed again and overtake before the end of the lap. The driver opted for the course of action the crowd howled its approval of, he stood up and began thrashing his pony’s breasts, buttocks and back in a final desperate attempt to overtake. But Blondie had enough left in reserve and held them off, sending her opposing slave careering, helplessly driven by the whip squealing into the straw. Brian joined in the laughter and applause and the defeated driver smiled and acknowledged the cheers for his sporting attempt to go for broke as he bent down and hauled his pony up by her bridle and began to lead her away.
Carlo gave Brian his characteristic grin as he led Blondie around the unharnessing enclosure while the three slaves ‘sweated down’ at an easy walk between the shafts of their traps.
“You don’t race as many times as me and this one have without you learn a few tricks,” he said and slapped a powerful thigh, making the blonde’s buttock ripple. “Tomorrow is going to be very close, but at least we have our noses in front now. Eh girl?” He tousled her hair, unfastened her bit and fetched one of her favourite biscuits from a pocket. The big blonde shook her thick mane of hair and crunched her treat loudly as she stared proudly out from between her blinkers at the admiring onlookers ranged along the rails of the enclosure.
However much thrashing the slaves had taken during the day, they were still booked out for private use in the evenings although on the second nights they didn’t fetch as much money as the sessions were shorter and the trainers less likely to allow heavy whipping.
An hour later, Blondie, showered again and hurriedly groomed by Amelia was hung up on the high mesh fencing surrounding the outdoor exercise area. She was spreadeagled with her feet off the floor and was facing two German men who were taking it in turns to flog her and fuck her. Currently she was being fucked and her pelvis was steadily grinding backwards and forwards against the man, who was holding himself steady inside her while he chatted with his colleague who was waiting to resume the breast whipping. Blondie’s long, heavily ringed tongue lapped at the man’s neck.
Brian thought she looked magnificent in her full battle-scarred nudity, servicing a complete stranger and still capable of responding to the whip. However, since the race he had been assailed by doubts; it had been deeply upsetting to see her struggle.
“How many years has she got left, do you reckon, Carlo?”
“Hmm? Oh, plenty yet. Plenty yet, today is just one day, you know? In a month’s time she will be as good as new.”
Carlo, who was leaning against the wall beside him and watching his favourite perform with an indulgent smile, gave a relaxed summing up but Brian was still troubled as he made his way indoors and through to the dungeon where the other slaves were being used. In the open plan stalls, Blackie and Tigre had been finished with and had been settled down by the grooms. Brian automatically noted and approved of the deep breathing from beneath each slave’s blanket. They were fast asleep. As he entered the dungeon however he was greeted by the cries and moans of slaves who were very definitely awake. It was really only a dungeon in the sense of being a place of restraint, the pillars were of wood instead of stone and were liberally sprinkled with steel rings. It was at ground level and the windows were heavily curtained, nevertheless it was well equipped for its purpose and Brian gazed around critically, asse
ssing whether anyone was getting a bit too enthusiastic with any of the whips. The grooms seemed to be keeping a capable eye on things though and as Brian watched he saw Amelia interrupt a man who was choosing a whip for Legs, whose already slender figure was being exaggerated by her ankle suspension, her back clearly showing the pounding it had taken on the log pull. She suggested he leave the thick, hide thong on the rack and content himself with a flogger. He agreed with good grace and set about getting his money’s worth by beating her until she was swinging like a pendulum. Brian knew however that the marks of a flogger would not be too severe.
Rose was tied face down along a bench, sucking at a man’s cock while the man’s female companion welted her back and backside with a strap and rummaged her fingers in her cunt. As he watched, he saw the man push Rose’s head firmly down onto his cock and the woman took that as the signal to let loose a final flurry of lashes and really stretch the slave’s cunt with her fingers. Rose rode the usage well, managing to swallow smoothly while she bucked and writhed under the woman’s attentions. Once the man had finished with her mouth, the woman took her place and had Rose work at her clitoris with her tongue until she was brought to a shuddering climax. Then they thanked Helga, smacked the exhausted slave on her bottom and left.
Jet was tied to the pivoted X cross on her back and it had been locked into the horizontal position. Her superb form shone darkly under the harsh lighting as she fellated one man who was idly mauling her breasts as she sucked him, and was fucked by another who was also wielding a flogger over her stomach from time to time. Brian noted with approval that Anne Marie was keeping an eye on her as well as making sure that Cherry’s breast constriction didn’t go on too long. The black girl’s skin didn’t show the whip as clearly as the fair skinned ones did and she could all too easily face the final day’s competition under par if a close eye wasn’t kept on the tally she was taking.
