Naked Ambition by Sean O'Kane Page B

Grimly she concentrated on maintaining the correct posture for witnessing punishments. She sat with her knees raised and parted, her wrists resting on the knees. Woe betide any girl found playing with herself while sentence was carried out. For the wretches concerned, things got worse. Usually they were left at the posts after their punishments and the male guards could be relied on not to pass by a well flogged female desperate for relief.
    On this day, Angel had them taken straight down and ordered a run before any break for food would be taken.
    Amelia was about to struggle to her feet when the shadow of the countess fell across her and she squinted up.
    “Oh look! It’s Ninety-seven!” her owner said. “She was my talisman at Bakhtar!”
    It had been the proudest moment of Amelia’s life when she had been dragged, semi conscious from the arena, and laid on a bed. The Countess had vowed to taste her cunt while she was still battered and bruised from the arena. ‘The Taste of Victory’ she had said before the games started. And true to her word she had bent down, opened Amelia’s legs and gently licked right inside her cunt. Then she had straightened up, way too soon for Amelia’s liking, and declared that the taste of victory was sweat. There had been general laughter and Angel had agreed heartily with her mistress. The crowd of hangers-on and friends had turned back to their drinks and Amelia had been dragged away back to the barracks.
    Now the countess smiled down at her.
    “D’you think she might be for these games?”
    “It’ll take more than that, my lady!” Angel said sourly and the countess took her arm and chided her for being so churlish.
    The two moved off but Amelia heard Angel give orders that the next two days would be rest and light exercise.
    Her heart leaped. The time was nearly at hand again.
    Angel surpassed herself that night. As Amelia had feared, sex was prohibited but Angel went farther than that. The girls were put into the small double beds as normal but were chained with their wrist cuffs fastened behind their backs and with their ankle cuffs fastened together as well. Placed head to toe in each bed, they slept together, naked and immobile. Totally frustrated. It was far, far worse than being made to sleep alone, and Angel knew it. Exhaustion came to their aid but in the morning, the mood in the barracks was black indeed.
    After a day’s rest and just light sparring, the frustration was worse but again sleep rescued them and Amelia was lost in admiration. Angel had judged it to perfection. They slept because of exhaustion and so were rested, but were furious and snarling, keen to do battle and experience the blitz of pain and pleasure the arena would provide.
    A second day of rest and light training passed slowly, the guards were everywhere now, keeping careful watch on hands in case they strayed between legs. But the discipline held.
    Amelia was astonished by how easily she fell asleep that night despite an almost physical ache from her neglected cunt.
    The next morning as the squad trooped onto the training ground once they had been fed, they saw two large trucks parked and everyone knew that they were on the move.
    Each truck had four benches running the length of its back. The slaves were seated with their legs slightly parted and their ankle cuffs chained tightly to the floor. Their wrists were cuffed together and put between their knees before being chained down tightly as well.
    Once all the benches were full the doors were slammed and they sat in darkness until their eyes adjusted. There were small vents at the tops of the van’s sides and, as Amelia glanced around she saw Seventy-six smiling at her from the far side and they exchanged air kisses.
    Beside her the dark haired girl she had slept with chastely for the previous night wriggled slightly on her seat, touching thighs with her. They too exchanged smiles and the girl kissed Amelia’s shoulder. Suddenly all around her