Bound for Glory

by Sean O'Kane

  “Yes, but a million and one things can go wrong over three days of competition! How can we be certain of winning? And how will winning translate into votes in the party? And how do we do it for free?”

  “Oh ye of little faith!” Dandy shot back with a grin. “Look around you! There’s the Prince, there’s Osman, there’s Salazar, there’s Lang, Johnson, Wei Wei Hok, Holden. Some of the foremost owners and trainers in the world. They all want to see you take over so the arenas will continue to prosper! They’re not going to let you fail – and Andrews has still got some liberal qualms when it comes to the arenas. So we challenge him on his own turf up North. We win, the crowds go wild and shout the place down for you. The show is of course seen nationwide and the Parliamentary Party sheep all come bleating into our pen. They know which side their bread is buttered on, Clive! They won’t dream of going against the people’s choice.” He leaned back and snapped his fingers at a passing girl who came over and offered her breasts for him to fondle as he sipped his wine. “Democracy in action!” he concluded.

  Clive leaned over and clinked his glass against Dandy’s. “To democracy!” he said, and started giving Dandy’s words some very serious consideration.

  Kath shook her hair back from her face and grimaced as she felt another needle slide in. She shivered as a slight orgasm rippled through her. They were almost constant now, coming as minor waves on the backs of tsunamis of lustful excitement. When she had been ankle suspended back to back with Sharon and they had both been whipped, the crescendo of sensual overload had been almost too much for them both, but then they had been wrist suspended face to face and the resultant orgasms under two whips then had been equally thunderous – as had been the applause from the audience. Then they had been allowed a sixty-nine on the floor by their owner’s feet and the audience had counted the orgasms that had ripped through them both until now they were nearly wrung out and ready for the slow build that needle play delivered.

  The long afternoon she had spent tethered to the trees had tested even Kath’s well-learned patience as a slave. The midges and flies had tormented all the ponies and to make matters worse, the air had been filled with the sounds of orgiastic enjoyment from further along the shore – and occasionally some sights too. There had been glimpses of exciting ankle suspensions from where the gentlemen were gathered. There had been the delicious sounds of whips and paddles being plied and the cries of pain and pleasure. Occasionally a couple would stroll by and stroke and pet this or that pony, then make her life a misery by fucking up against the wheel of the trap just behind her. That had happened twice to Kath and Sharon.

  Their owner’s whip as they pulled him and his guest uphill and back to the house had come as a welcome change. Once back there they had been hosed down, rubbed down, fed and watered and then carefully groomed to go into the house itself. Wearing just their collars, cuffs and four inch-heeled black court shoes, they had been led on their tongue leashes up some backstairs and had emerged finally into one of the biggest rooms Kath had ever seen. And it was thronged with the gentlemen and the girls, who were still not showing any signs of tiring. And why should they? From chandeliers hung long chains with cuffs attached. In places there were winches mounted in the ceiling, along the walls X frames had been bolted on. Beside the chairs that surrounded coffee tables, there were leather topped benches. The air smelled of leather, expensive spirits and cigars and the spice of sexual arousal underpinned it all. The myriad lights shone on naked female flesh as most corsets had long since been shed. As she was led towards the table her owner was seated at, Kath saw one girl being hoisted up by one leg and before her body had even stopped swaying, the whip was being plied between her helplessly spread legs. She passed a chaise longue where a fully dressed man was lying on top of a Housegirl who was taking him for an energetic and noisy ride. Kath felt herself immediately moisten and the chip-inspired need for orgasm began to flood through her once more. The afternoon’s boredom had quietened it a little but now it returned in trumps and by the time she was brought to her owner’s side, she knew her thighs were sliding wetly against one another as she walked.

  Their owner had been talking to other men – some of them Kath had seen before at various arenas – and one she was sure had been her original trainer at Proteus. But that was irrelevant, what mattered was the delicious debauchery going on around her. And soon she had been at the centre of it and now they were back, well-flogged but as yet unfucked, kneeling up by their owner, with their hands cuffed together behind them and their shoulders back to thrust their breasts out properly and with a wooden stool between them which was just the right height for their breasts to be rested on. Each breast now sported needles around it, piercing a pinch of flesh and then driven into the wood of the stool, pinning them in place. Kath looked over at Sharon who glanced back and smiled. Her eyes were heavy lidded with lust and exhaustion. Kath grinned at her lover fiercely, this was the most orgasms they had ever taken in one night and it looked as though it wasn’t over by a long shot. She looked down admiringly at her breasts again, she counted ten needles so far and shuddered again as another ripple of excitement ran through her. She also felt a thick rope of juice begin to creep down her left thigh as her vagina continued to weep in the wake of almost constant orgasm. But then she felt a man come to stand behind her, he had a hard bulge in his trousers which pressed against the back of her head. Opposite her she saw another man stand behind Sharon and produce two long needles, the kind used to transpierce a breast from side to side. As she watched, the man behind her did the same and the needles came to rest on top of her nipples that were now almost squashed against the wood. She felt two sharp tips just press against the throbbing flesh of the nipples and another surge of excitement rippled through her. The crowd around them began a countdown from five and she steeled herself for the bolt to come. Opposite her Sharon was doing the same, eyes riveted on the needles poised above her nipples. Kath looked down too. This was going to be too good to miss.

  The noise increased as the count came down. Suddenly Kath’s head was wrenched back and she found herself looking up at her owner who was smiling proudly down at her. Her heart leapt as the countdown was completed and her head was released to flop forwards in time to see the needles bury themselves in her nipples and pin them to the wood. It was the sweetest of pains and every bit as sharp and deep as she had hoped. Her body bucked helplessly against the pins holding her down as she spasmed again and again, her cunt spurting juices down her thighs, her mouth hanging open in exhaustion. There seemed to be a lot of congratulating going on above her and then strong hands were taking the needles out and she was being hauled up and lain down on her back, the leather of the bench cool against her flagellated back. Blearily she looked up and saw that Sharon had been dealt with similarly and now the men were queuing up above both of them. With a delighted groan, Kath let her legs fall apart and welcomed in whoever wanted her.

  Peter Lang came up to stand beside Clive as he watched his slaves service virtually every man in the room. As he did so, the white girl passed out as a man finished with her and stood up. Clive gestured for a Housegirl to bathe her face in cold water and bring her round. There were more men to satisfy and he had promised them all that the two slaves would take them. She wasn’t going to make a liar out of him.

  “Dandy’s told me what he and you are planning,” he said. “It sounds good to me. We’ll help of course, with you in Number Ten, the world’s our oyster. Just give us the nod when you need us. That chip you’ve got in these two is gold dust as well!”

  The two men nodded thoughtfully as the black girl climaxed hoarsely yet again and her superb body shook and trembled in the aftermath as the last man got off her and another took his place.

  “Yes, I think we’ve waited long enough. I’ll call a press conference and announce I’m making it available to all arenas and to all private buyers too, might as well get my campaign off to a flying start!” he said as Six was brought round again and
resumed service. “I’ve got support mainly in the south so I’ll base my squad around the Proteans. I’d appreciate it if you and Brian would look over them if Andrews accepts the challenge and then we can formulate our best team.”

  “Delighted to. Andrews will probably field the Northern Stars if he goes for it at all, and we’ve got the beating of them easily enough. And Dandy’s right you know; the people will love you for putting on the show and I think you should include a Demolition Derby, that’ll really fire them up and give them something to remember you for.”

  Clive smiled. He hadn’t thought of that. The Demolition Derby was just becoming a regular part of arena contests, and already the web was alive with enthusiastic commentaries and discussions. A good contest with the Proteans coming out on top would finish things up nicely – he couldn’t help but envisage himself taking the rapturous applause of a packed arena. Sternly he wrenched his mind back to the present. There was a long way to go before that scene could become a reality.

  The two men shook hands and Clive went to his room, he had to be back in London tomorrow and it had been a long day. He had lost count of the number of Housegirls he had used. Behind him the queues to use the two slaves were beginning to shorten and their orgasms were now just marked by gurgles and gasps. He smiled as he thought that even with the chips, they would be sated for a day or so. Well he would see, he was leaving them here until the end of the week. When he picked them up and took them home, he would already have started garnering support in the House and there would be a lot of hospitality those two sluts would have to offer. Neither he nor Dandy were going to leave anything to chance. They would woo the public in the arena, but they would also take out insurance by smooth talking the political establishment. And two slaves who could orgasm all night under every form of mistreatment, could do a lot to back up the smooth talking.

  Chapter Seven

  The journey home was not as awful as Anna had been afraid it was going to be. Mercy had slung her jacket over the wrist that was cuffed to her and hidden the metal. Then once the plane was airborne, she had quietly reached underneath the garment and unlocked the catch.

  “You ain’t going anywhere till we land, hun,” she observed.

  Anna had been re-united with her luggage and was able to take some clean underwear from her overnight bag and go to the toilet to make some repairs. The clean underwear was a blessed relief, especially the knickers. Mr Cutts’ and Marie’s parting gifts had been making her uncomfortable all morning, but the part her own juices had played in her discomfort was not something she cared to dwell on. When she had dressed again, she looked at herself in the mirror. A haggard, unfamiliar face stared back.

  “You’ve seen and done some things since the last time I saw you, babe!” she told her reflection. She had been held captive – she had lost her freedom, she had been caned and fucked and questioned and....she stopped herself before it all got too much and concentrated on getting herself looking a bit better.

  Her large, dark eyes had bags under them, her cheek bones – normally such a refined and classical part of her beauty were much more stark than she remembered. Her mouth, full lipped and wide was still itself but without the carefully applied lipstick and gloss, it wasn’t nearly so pronounced a feature. And as for her hair....!

  But as she began to tear her way through the thick, light-brunette tresses with her brush, she realised that her unmade-up look was probably her best hope of getting through Heathrow without being spotted. After all she had got this far without any autograph or photo requests. She decided on just getting her hair brushed tidily once more.

  Back in her seat she nibbled at the familiar plastic fare served up by the stewardesses and then fell into a deep sleep. When Mercy shook her awake, they were beginning their descent into London and Anna had woken with the realisation that what had happened to her wasn’t the product of some malicious alignment in the planets or a combination of random circumstances; someone had deliberately set out to ruin her. But she was coming home and at last she felt that she wasn’t bouncing around like a pinball; she was angry now and she was going to take back control of her life. In England she still had money and influential friends. She could fight this!

  They were met by police at the airport but at least no one seemed to recognise her and she wasn’t aware of any flash bulbs going off. Mercy uncoupled herself and handed her over to a burly officer who hustled her into the back of a car. Then, as it drove off, there was one, sudden flash. Anna hid her face but it was too late.

  At the station she was put in a small room with just one table and two chairs, they said a lawyer had been appointed and would be with her shortly. If she had a lawyer on her side, she could beat this rap hands down. A thought had occurred to her when they brought her in and she had asked to use the Ladies. Once in a cubicle with an officer just outside, she had hoisted up her skirt and by dint of twisting frantically and using a make-up mirror, she had ascertained that the marks of Mercy’s caning had faded away. She swore under her breath. Whatever the chief inspector had said, Mercy plainly knew what she was doing when it came to caning with just enough strength to make a girl give in and confess to anything, but not so hard that the marks lasted for an inconvenient length of time.

  Back in the interview room there was what seemed like an eternity of drumming her fingers on the table and her thoughts whirring round and round in her head – they kept coming back to the scenes in the police station – why had she not fought harder? How had she – who was always frantic at the thought of being restrained – almost let herself be held down, fucked and beaten? How could she now contemplate being in this tiny room with the door locked? Why wasn’t she screaming the place down with claustrophobic panic? And who had done this to her?

  Then with shocking suddenness, keys rattled in the door which then opened and let in a woman. She was blonde, stood about five inches shorter than Anna – but most women did – and was dressed in a smart pin-striped suit with a short, tailored skirt that finished about three inches above her knees and clung tightly to long, slender thighs. She slapped a folder down onto the table and took a seat opposite Anna.

  “I’m Robyn Haddon and I’ve been assigned as your lawyer,” she said, threw a business card down onto the table and sat back, crossing her legs.

  “Well I didn’t quite believe it when they told me I’d got Anna Chatham waiting for me down here. Not my usual courtroom fodder at all!” She looked Anna over with an almost insolent casualness that she found very surprising in a lawyer.

  “Well suppose you tell me how you got into this mess, Anna.”

  “Can you get me out of it?” Anna replied sharply, she was aware that Robyn had licked her lips with the tip of a pink tongue as she had phrased her request.

  “Hard to say until I know a bit more,” she said, then suddenly stood up and knocked on the door. “I’ll be back in a minute. Don’t go away now!” and she was gone.

  In a few minutes she did re-appear with a huge man in tow.

  “This is Paul, he works for me,” she said. “I’ve managed to get you released into my custody for a few hours provided you’re cuffed to him. You’re not our normal sort of client so I talked the custody sergeant round.”

  This time there was no jacket slung over the joined wrists and Anna had to trot behind the huge man as they followed the lawyer out into a yard and then both slid into the back seat of her car. She negotiated the London traffic effortlessly and in a few minutes had pulled up outside a medium sized hotel.

  It seemed as though Robyn had prepared the ground and Anna and her minder were able to go straight to the lift without attracting attention and were joined by the lawyer as they were whisked up to the fifth floor. A card swipe took them into a room, Paul unlocked the cuffs and retreated, closing the door behind him.

  Anna looked around her rubbing her wrist.

  “Let me remind you, babe, we’re on the fifth floor and Paul’s right outside that door, so let’s just relax a
nd have coffee,” Robyn said as she rang down and ordered two lattes. Then she shrugged off her jacket and opened two buttons at the neck of her maroon, silk shirt.

  “Now tell me why you look like something the cat brought in, and tell it all, right from the beginning.”

  Anna told her while she listened attentively. The coffee arrived was served and drunk and for the first time in days Anna felt something like her old self; carelessly ordering room service in a London hotel. This was where she belonged.

  Once she had finished, Robyn chewed her bottom lip for a long moment.

  “Wow! That’s a pretty hot story! Stand up and show me where you were caned,” she said at last.

  Anna’s heart sank, but then she had been twisting around in a toilet, so maybe someone else could see a lingering trace of the beating. She stood up, lifted her skirt and pulled her knickers down.

  There was a long low whistle from behind her.

  Anna turned her head eagerly, “Can you see it?” she asked.

  “Babe, what I’m seeing is the finest arse on this planet! Certainly the finest I’ve ever been lucky enough to see!”

  Anna felt a cool hand stroke across both cheeks and tried to turn around and pull up her knickers all in one go, resulting in an undignified stumble that left her backed up against a table in front of the cool and grinning Robyn.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Anna demanded angrily, tucking a thick lock of hair back from her face. “You’re supposed to be representing me not feeling me up!”

  Robyn folded her arms. “Have you got any idea how much trouble you’re in? I’m the only hope you’ve got! I’ve gone out on a limb to get you a bit of time to put some form of appeal together, so the least you could do is be a bit nice to me. Or shall we get Paul and go back?”