A bell rang. Della’s hands guided Maggie into her corner and Mark presented the stool. The still slick prosthetic slid easily into her semen-coated hole causing Maggie to croon with pleasure. ‘You did well!’ affirmed Della, dabbing a cold sponge onto Maggie’s reddened nipples. ‘She’s ahead on points, but you scored seven. Keep moving and wear her down; she’s a good boxer, but she carries a lot of weight and gets tired quickly. Do you want to hurt her?’ Maggie nodded. ‘Who is she, what is she called?’
‘I believe they call her Cat.’ So that’s the girl who didn’t turn up to the last meeting. ‘Now go and do it, batter those boobs, make her suffer.’ I’ll enjoy that! Again that surge of immense pleasure.
The next round was evenly matched. As Della had predicted, Cat was showing signs of fatigue and as long as Maggie kept her distance the effect accelerated. However, Cat’s superior skill still showed. Maggie collected three punches to the head and two to the ribs, but succeeded in landing two body blows in return. I didn’t get her tits, but next time I will.
The bell sent Maggie scampering to her corner. A new stool with a stubby probe glistening with lubricant; there was no mistaking its intended target. She lowered herself gingerly soaking up the pain and pleasure as it penetrated her anus; she was beginning to savour these alternative intrusions, finding them almost as rewarding as a straight fuck. ‘Keep her busy.’ Mark advised. ‘If she tires you could still make a draw.’
‘Hammer her tits, she doesn’t like that!’ added Della.
Acutely conscious of her inexperience, Maggie reluctantly rose to relinquish the agreeable discomfort of the peg. Oh that was nice. It was curious that the throbbing of her assaulted nipples was really quite agreeable while the lingering sensation in her anus roused the weals to renewed activity and refreshed her spirit. These notions coupled with the revelation that her veteran opponent might not share this appreciation, boosted her confidence. For most of the round she kept clear of those practised punches, taking only two hits to the body and one to the head. The audience was not pleased and began catcalling, but Maggie held her nerve, for Cat was obviously slowing. Screwing up courage, she darted in to land a quick one-two on the helmet. Cat faltered, lifting one hand in belated defence she exposed a nipple. Maggie punched as hard as she could. The feeling when the soft breast tissue distorted was deeply satisfying and she danced away, leading her opponent round the ring. Seeing a chance she attacked once more punching at the crossed gloves. Cat’s arms shifted, a quick jab caught the lower sternum, and then a second slipped through the slack defence to strike the other tit. Cat gasped and sprang to embrace Maggie in a clinch. As they toppled round the ring she struggled to punch within the grip and was rewarded by the feeling of hitting Cat’s body. Then the bell rang.
Mark and Della held her gloves while waiting for the judge’s decision with Della’s free hand casually teasing Maggie’s clitoris.
‘Number eight scores twenty-three points, number five scores twenty five. Five wins!’ came the announcement.
‘You almost did it!’ Della cried, kissing Maggie full on the lips. Oh you taste nice!
The contest was lengthy and tiring. Each of the eight slaves was matched against the other seven, each match of three ninety-second rounds. With only three rings in action two slaves had to sit out each time and this was done on a special bench equipped with vibrating dildos that was situated in front of the throne. The presiding black girl decided whether the dildo should penetrate vagina or anus.
The bench provided an opportunity to survey the gathering; with the dildo doing all the work all Maggie had to do was relax and enjoy. Each ring operated slightly differently. Each bout was preceded by the contestants being fucked. In ring three, as she had discovered, the stools had dildos, but in ring one the contestants had to wear butt plugs throughout while those in two were fitted with ben-wa balls: the prospect was daunting, but exciting. The crowd obviously appreciated the set-up and their pleasure from watching the extreme submission of these gorgeous girls was obvious. She scanned the arena critically, recognising some from the schoolroom. Vanda was serving as a second to one of the slaves, and Kim was a contestant in one of the bouts. So far she had not seen Greg, but as she rested he passed by accompanied by Lady Jane who had naked Mitzi on a lead. Maggie ached for his approval, but he showed no recognition.
By the time Maggie climbed into the ring for her last match she was feeling fatigued. Thoroughly shagged, but happy! The thought expressed her state of mind for while she would never have imagined this as a fantasy the reality had proved exquisite. Mark had fucked her, Della had buggered her; neither had been gentle. Maggie was growing to love being used with vigour whether vaginally or anally and there was at least one more to come.
Mark led her into the ring. ‘Support yourself! We’ll give your cunt a rest for later,’ he said as he opened her rectum with an exploratory finger. Maggie squirmed with pleasure. Later! There surely can’t be more! His penis nosed at her anus, the tight bud was tingling in anticipation and she pushed back, relaxing and willing herself to open to him. When he pushed it was glorious and when he breached the sphincter the pain was pure bliss. I’m so glad Mark chose my arse. The feel of his warm flesh in that tight secret place was heaven itself. She braced, forcing herself to relax to get the greatest enjoyment possible from the experience. The soreness would linger for hours. She would savour it, and re-live again and again the moment his cream spurted deep inside her body. He began to thrust. Oh paradise!
Her final opponent was number three, a tall girl whose height placed her at a disadvantage in this unusual contest. She had already lost bouts to a couple of the smaller girls. Maggie who was of medium build did not enjoy too much of an advantage, but there was a realistic chance to win if she could keep her nerve. It was a slow match, lacking sparkle. Both girls were tired, it showed and the audience voiced their frustration. The first round ended with neither girl in the lead and Maggie sank onto her stool with a sigh of relief, but missing the gentle stimulation of the now-inactive balls. A voice from nearby said loudly, ‘They’re both a fucking disgrace. If they were mine I stick a red hot poker up their cunts, that’d liven ‘em up.’ You come and try it, pig! The remark struck hard at Maggie’s pride, she wriggled to provoke the balls and summoned up every last atom of energy. As soon as the round started she tore across the ring flinging herself on her opponent with untrammelled fury, hitting again and again. The tall girl fell back under the onslaught, falling against the ropes as Maggie punched and battered. The girl used her gloves to cover her nipples, but she was feeling the hurt from so many blows, her temper rose and she began to punch over and over, striking Maggie’s head until her brain spun from the onslaught. Acting on blind instinct Maggie began to pummel the exposed breasts, beating them mercilessly. The crowd went wild, cheering, shouting and stamping their delight. With no-one to intervene, none of the matches was refereed, the frantic exchange continued until the bell rang and their seconds pulled them apart.
‘Relax, calm down!’ Della pleaded as she settled Maggie onto the stool. ‘You’ve done enough! Just keep clear of her.’ But Maggie shook her head.
‘I’m no coward!’
‘No, you’re not, but you’re not a boxer either, so play safe.’
The bell blocked any reply. Maggie staggered to her feet and tore into the attack. The girl was prepared, dancing away and circling to defeat the charge. Determined to land some telling punches, Maggie went forward, head down and punching as she went. The girl countered with a strong right hook. It landed squarely on the side of Maggie’s head throwing her off balance. She stumbled and fell, collapsing into a heap, dazed and defeated. Reacting to the hubbub she struggled onto her knees and tried to rise. Hands scooped her breasts, lifting her bodily. She glanced up at Mark’s rugged features as he helped her to her feet. ‘Oh, Maggie, you were told: you threw that away. The judges awarded the match to Poppy on a knockdo
wn.’
‘But I proved I’m not a coward!’
All eight slaves were gathered in the shed, seated on bales to take the high energy foods provided. For the first time since her arrival Maggie was not tethered, restrained, chastised or penetrated, and it seemed almost unreal. One of the escorts came to sit beside her. The girl was short and dark, about Maggie’s age, and stunningly beautiful. In her leather outfit with her fitted dildo and exposed breasts she looked magnificent.
‘You did very well, you should be proud.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’m Ali. I was attending Poppy, if you remember.’
‘I don’t really; it was all a bit hazy in there.’ Maggie’s eyes were fixed on Ali’s bright red prosthetic; suddenly it had become the most entrancing thing she had ever seen.
Ali registered the interest. ‘Would you like me to?’
‘Am I permitted requests?’
‘Of course, we’re both slaves.’
‘How can you be a slave? You don’t wear the choker!’
‘That’s something peculiar to your group. We have our own insignia, see.’ Ali hefted her left breast, drawing Maggie’s attention to a scar in the shape of an elaborate letter S. It was starkly white against the golden tan and placed where only the most demure of necklines would hide it. Looking closer Maggie exclaimed ‘That’s not a tattoo!’
‘No, Le Patron brands slaves.’
‘My god, that’s barbaric.’
Ali smiled, ‘It’s only pain and it doesn’t last long.’ She sounded almost wistful.
‘You said slaves; how many does he have?’
‘The Syndicate has lots. Tell me, who do you serve?’
‘I don’t actually know. Greg brought me here, but he has never claimed me as his slave, people just assume that I am. And now he seems to have gone off the idea.’
‘And yet you have natural inclinations. What a shame, because you’re intensely attractive and you have immense potential. Now, how about that shag, what would you prefer?’
‘From behind, on my knees, in my bottom – please!’
Maggie gave a yelp as Ali drove in: the dildo was thick and Ali pushed it deep. She held firm, gently caressing the lingering red stripes while Maggie wriggled herself into a comfortable posture.
‘Exquisite!’ Ali commented. ‘They did a super job on you, and you wear the marks so beautifully.’ With that she pulled back and thrust vigorously, causing Maggie to howl with painful delight.
Ali chuckled, ‘How lovely, this will warm you up nicely and give your cunt a chance to prepare.’
The remark was lost on Maggie, submerged in the delights of physical intrusion.
Maggie lay supine on the bale quietly enjoying the aftermath of the unexpected pleasure and thinking wistfully of her new acquaintance. Would I ever be so dedicated as to submit to branding? I suppose a slave has no choice! The prospect of being controlled to that extent was appalling, or perhaps not. This internal dilemma remained unresolved, for at that moment the arrival of Della shook Maggie out of her reverie with the words, ‘Time for the big event.’ What do they want: blood? Maggie quickly suppressed the thought; this was not the time to tempt providence.
Along with the other girls, Maggie was put to work moving bales into small asymmetric pyramids; she guessed their purpose was to provide support in a variety of positions. No sooner was this complete than the black goddess returned riding once more on the chariot. Standing on her pyramid, Maggie had an excellent view and noticed with some satisfaction that the leading slave was none other than Ali.
The procession crept into the centre of what was an arena formed by the piled bales. Most of the spectators had crowded in to surround the chariot, most were naked to some degree and many of the women were sporting strap-on dildos. I can guess what’s coming, well I’m ready. The rider stepped off onto an adjacent pyramid, turning to view her audience before addressing them.
‘Friends and loyal supporters, we have arrived at the central point of this day, our annual “Fuck-a-thon!” I only remind you that the record established last year was three hours and ten minutes. Will that be surpassed tonight? Who will emerge triumphant? The rules are the same, timing will commence upon sounding the bell.’ As she spoke she detached the chain from her nipple rings allowing the cloak to fall away. Gloriously naked now, she dropped to her knees, taking position on the bales and presenting her rump in open invitation.
Three hours! My god! Maggie looked around desperately for someone capable of offering an explanation. With relief she saw Della returning, naked now except for her false cock. ‘Are you a slave too?’
Della nodded.
‘Then explain these rules,’ Maggie demanded
Della’s face registered disapproval. ‘You are a slave, you cannot give me orders, but I will answer because it is important that you behave properly. The situation is quite simple. Anyone here may fuck you. You must be receiving active fuck most of the time and two thirds of it must be live cock. You are allowed one minute maximum for change-over and you can claim three minutes rest in each hour. You can remain passive throughout so long as your cunt is filled. I’ll start you off, but after that I can only enter you if no-one else comes forward. But don’t worry, you’ll not be neglected. I will decide if and when you reach exhaustion. Now, in position please.’
Maggie leaned back, opening her legs and felt the hard dildo slide into her moist sheath. Despite her trepidation, her body was more than eager. A bell rang and Della began to thrust.
The insertion did not last long. A tap on Della’s shoulder demanded access. Maggie swooned with pleasure and lifted to meet the welcome intrusion. He was big and virile, but overly excited and came within a minute. Urged by Della he withdrew to hand over to another who lasted a little longer. Time quickly lost all meaning and Maggie lost count, but looking back she reckoned that she took seven men and two women within the first fifteen minutes.
After the first surge of excitement the pattern settled down and the men were able to maintain their action for much longer although Della kept things moving to prevent long queues building. With well over two hundred men and women serving just nine girls, business was brisk. Maggie used all the options presented by the pyramid, moving frequently, but favouring her preferred rear entry position. That was why she did not see Greg take her twice, although she was pretty certain she recognised his style.
Her brief rests enabled her to view the whole arena. Hardly anyone was dressed now. Groups were waiting impatiently around all nine locations and elsewhere couples were copulating freely all over the place with total disregard for gender differences. She noted more than one tableau where the subject was being penetrated from both ends and regretted that the rules did not permit the selected slaves to enjoy this. I’d love to be fucked and buggered at the same time; I wonder if it’s possible? But the respite was soon over and she was being entered again and again: entered, reamed and spurted into. There were good orgasms and mild ones, sometimes not at all, but she was astonished at her capacity to sustain intercourse.
My god, from once in a blue moon to twenty an hour. What have I become?
‘A living wonder.’ replied an internal voice that sounded strangely like Meg. In actual fact the average was twenty two, so Della calculated after she had declared Maggie to be exhausted. Maggie didn’t agree. She lay on top of the straw, limp but eager. ‘I can take more,’ she protested.
‘Maybe, but they wouldn’t count now you’ve rested for more than three minutes.’
‘But that’s your fault; I was still game.’
‘Don’t complain. Three hours seven minutes is creditable. In any case it wouldn’t be tactful to beat the Princess.’
‘You mean “She who sits on the throne”?’
‘Naturally, she wins every year.’
�
�That’s unfair; the record should go on merit.’
‘But the Princess is not a slave!’
‘Huh! Privilege wins again.’
A short ceremony followed in which Lady Jane confirmed that the record now stood at three hours and twenty minutes, heaping praise on their statuesque patronne.
Who has done nothing but lounge about all day. Maggie was incensed and, as Della had now left, she also felt abandoned. Anxiously she cast about for Greg. People were starting to depart, groups gathering, others slipping away. Round and about a certain amount of activity was still in progress: somewhere a caning was taking place, elsewhere someone was receiving a vigorous shagging. Maggie felt jealous. She desired attention, some clothes perhaps, escorting to the car, setting out on their planned holiday. Maggie was growing angry.
Her anger had reached boiling point by the time Greg arrived to find her standing truculently by the straw bales she had occupied so determinedly.
The Dark Side of Maggie Moon Page 8
