Chapter 36: Into the Arena

In the early evening, Panties and Melissa were removed from their cages and given some bread & cheese to eat along with some water to drink. The pair 'enjoyed' their repast at separate tables and under the watchful eyes of some older and rather well built slave-women who prevented the pair from making any sort of physical contact though various threats and obscenities passed often between them. Their meal over, the two were lead out of the room where they had been confined and out into the garden again. The sun was just about to set and the shadows lengthening as they passed a strange sight for, set to one side of the path, was a huge, slightly tapered, cylindrical structure apparently made of clear glass. The structure was just tall and wide enough to accommodate a human being standing upright... and, through the walls, the two slaves could see Stella, the girl that had spent the morning working with Panties at the bar before her unfortunate accident which had led to Master Cunningham ordering that she be punished. Stella was looking rather panicky at the moment for most of the cylinder was full of a frothy, pale yellow liquid with various brown bits floating in it. The device was so full that the trapped girl was being forced to stand on tip-toe with her head tilted back simply in order to breath. As Panties and Melissa watched, more liquid poured over the girl's head from a pipe connected to the top of the cylinder and the overall level increased fractionally. Stella tried to kick her feet in a vain attempt at floating but the narrowing upper sides of the cylinder barred her shoulders from sliding any further up.

"Is that stuff what I think it is?" asked Panties fearfully.

"Piss and shit?" replied Melissa. "Yeah - that pipe's connected to the guest's loos. They'll be betting on what time it'll be when she finally drowns - see the little water-proof monitor attached over her heart? That'll record the moment that it does its last beat. Those cameras'll be sending her picture round to monitors all over the estate - especially the ones in the loos."

"What a terrible way to go," Panties commented.

Melissa chuckled. "No worse than the clumsy oaf deserves."

"Heartless bitch," muttered the other slave girl.

"Move, sluts!" ordered one of their guards, pushing Panties in the back.

"All right, all right, already..."

Somewhere above them all, another guest flushed a toilet sending more piss down a pipe... and Stella frantically craned her neck a little bit more...

After entering a large, roundish building, the two girls found themselves in a capacious room together with Wee-Wee and another large male slave whom Panties correctly assumed to be Blitzkrieg. This man was, if anything, even larger than Wee-Wee and with a better defined musculature. He sported blonde hair trimmed very short and his eyes were pale blue. Instinctively, Panties checked out his groin area and noted that he had a pretty average sized cock. Both men were, of course, naked and were laying on padded couches on opposite sides of the room. By each couch was a small table adorned with some fruit, a glass of wine and massage oils.

"Get to work, girls," ordered the guards as they withdrew, locking the door behind them.

Silently shrugging her shoulders, Panties moved over towards Wee-Wee who rolled over onto his stomach at her approach. "The left shoulder needs a little work," he whispered to her in a low voice so as to ensure that his opponent could not pick the comment up and so gain an advantage. Standing at the side of the couch, Panties first warmed her hands as best she could by rubbing them together before picking up some of the oil and tipping it into her palms which, again, she proceeded to rub together before she set to work on Wee-Wee's neck. As she pulled and pressed at ebony black skin, she gave thanks that she'd always done rather well in the massage classes at school. Moving down, Panties ensured that her body was between Wee-Wee's and the other couple before she set to work on his troublesome shoulder. As soon as her fingers touched the area, she could feel just how tense and frozen the underlying muscle was. Panties instantly knew that she certainly had her work cut out here but, under her manipulations, the shoulder soon started to free up and Wee-Wee's initial tenseness was soon replaced by an appreciative well-being.

"You're good at this aren't you, white-trash?" he commented.

Panties allowed herself a small smile, "Second in my year," she replied as she continued her work.

"That's good... now, listen, we've got less than an hour before the fight starts and you've not even attended one before, have you?" After receiving a negative reply, he continued, "Very well. The arena is a circular pit, quite large and with the guests seated in tiers above it. All around floor of the arena are scattered various items - anything from knives to teddy bears, depending on the sense of humour prevailing with the Master and the Young Mistress at the time. You enter with me by one door, Melissa comes in with Blitzkrieg through another. You don't do much in there - most of your work is here, really - but if I get a small cut or something like that and circumstances allow, you're allowed to clean it up for me if I can get the chance to come to you... which effectively hardly ever happens unless both fighters are similarly injured and come to some unspoken mutual decision to take a small break. Got it?"

"Got it," replied Panties who was now working on his magnificent firm buttocks and heading towards his thighs.

"You do know what happens to the losing Second, don't you?"

Panties paused in her work before replying in the affirmative.

"But believe me, white-trash, I'll be doing my best not to lose!" Wee-Wee added with a slight grin.

A short time late, Panties instructed Wee-Wee to roll over onto his back. As he was doing so, she took the opportunity to see what Melissa was up to. The answer was very simple for Blitzkrieg too was laying on his back but, in the case of the other couple, Melissa was up on the couch too, keeling over her 'man' who was busily groping her breasts. The bald-headed woman was occupied pumping her body rapidly up and down and groaning quietly. Both of the copulating pair had their eyes closed.

"They say that it saps the strength," Wee-Wee's voice intruded into Panties' thoughts, "though I'm not too sure myself."

"Do you want... ?" Panties suggested hesitantly.

"No! I mean, no thanks," the man indicated his own cock with his eyes, "It hurts far too much to be pleasurable any more." Panties eyes followed the man's own and, for the first time, she got a really close up view of his tackle. His balls were much as to be expected - black, huge and hairy - but his cock! Well, much as in the manner of some African tribes who increase the beauty of their women by binding their necks in silver wire from youth so as to stretch the neck to almost inhuman proportions, the same had been done to Wee-Wee's prick which was now fully seventeen inches long and, due to the wire, permanently stiff. On the other hand, Panties thought to herself, it must be almost impossible for the thing to swell. Peering closer, Panties just had to admire the workmanship for the thin wire lay perfectly upon itself and it proceeded down from his groin towards his glands which had been left exposed. Not for the first time Panties wondered what it would be like to be screwed by this man.

"Not very nice... unless you're into pain," Wee-Wee interjected as if reading her thoughts. "Most women wonder that," he explained. "Yes, it's long and stiff and the wire excites for awhile but... well, lets say I never do it unless under duress and the masters won't let me just stop when the woman's had enough." A howl of pleasure from Melissa cut into the conversation at this point. Wee-Wee smiles slightly. "I'd be forced to go on for an hour or more... imagine what would happen to the walls of your pussy during that time! Just hope I never get foisted on you." Panties tried to put the resulting imagery out of her mind and got back to work. Across the other side of the room Melissa howled again.

Pouring more oil into her palms, Panties started on Wee-Wee's chest; the man closed his eyes and relaxed further. Time passed quickly as Panties worked her way down the man's body, carefully avoiding contact with his genitalia. The occasional shriek from Melissa and a quiet groan or two from the men were the only sounds. Suddenly a bell, mounted on the wall of the room, rang briefly. Wee-Wee raised his head, "Stop now, trash. Five minutes to go." He then gave Panties a slight squeeze on the bum, "But if I need someone to do this again, you'll be top of the list..."

Across the room, Blitzkrieg shot his load into Melissa with a loud grunt of his own. Giving the woman no time to dismount, he simply placed his hands under her armpits and lifted her free from himself before tossing her to one side; the hapless girl landed on the floor in a heap, cracking her head sharply as she did so, legs akimbo with his spunk leaking out of her exposed twat.

"Ever the gentleman!" Wee-Wee called across to his opponent.

"Piss off, blacky! Just 'cos you can't enjoy a woman, don't get jealous." came the snarled reply.

"I don't get jealous, I just get even!" And, with that final comment, Wee-Wee began his limbering up exercises... and Panties suddenly felt that her future was now totally out of her control.

Before Panties could really comprehend what was happening to her, she was in the arena with the crowd baying for blood above her. Over some loudspeakers, Sue-Li's voice introduced the fighters and detailed their past victories. When his name was called, Wee-Wee strode into the centre of the arena and raised his hands to a cheer from the audience. Off on a back wall, a huge display indicated the current odds being taken by Quayle Sexploitation Betting Division for the various outcomes of the fight; these odds were mostly in Wee-Wee's favour... but not strongly. Blitzkrieg came away from his door as his name was called in turn and he too accepted the cheers (and a few mooted boos) from the gathered spectators. In all of this, Panties felt somehow forgotten and she took the chance to survey the arena itself. As Wee-Wee had described, it was a deep pit, fully thirty feet round. The dirt floor held a sprinkling of objects what ranged from a vicious looking carving knife, through a grease-gun to a few empty wine bottles, the odd piece of rope, a broken clock, a dead cat and ending with the proverbial cuddly toy. Something told Panties that, with the exception of the knife, there wasn't much there of use and that the fight would come down to a hand-to-hand battle between the two men. Oddly, she found the thought rather exciting and, glancing across the arena, she noticed that Melissa must be feeling the same way for the slave was already fondling her own left nipple.

Wee-Wee's voice cut into her thoughts again. "Stay by the door and keep out of the way, white-trash. And wish me luck!"

Panties just had time to mutter a few words and to give her man a quick peck on the cheek before a bell sounded and both fighters moved quickly from their starting positions towards the spot where the carving knife lay. The decibel level in the hall doubled as the fight started and the crowd rose to its feet... and Panties and Melissa started to shout for their men.

Blitzkrieg, living up to his name, was clearly the faster mover and he reached the knife first. With an evil grin, he picked it up... only to find that it was a trick for the blade immediately started to flex and bend for it was made only of some form of rubbery material. For a second, Blitzkrieg stood stock still, dumbfounded, which was all the time that Wee-Wee needed to land a mighty punch to the side of the white man's head. The other man staggered slightly under the blow but, apart from dropping the useless knife, the punch had little obvious effect. For a few seconds, the two men circled each other warily then, out of the blue, Blitzkrieg lunged at Wee-Wee attempting to grab the other man around the middle. The mountain of black flesh moved more nimbly than Panties would have thought it could and the attacking man only managed to gain half a grip which was soon flung off. By now, Panties could deny her feelings no longer - the display was most certainly stimulating her sexually!