Read Online Last Slave Standing by Sean O'Kane - Free Book Online

could see Amelia with two up, one at each end, Patti was on her knees, her mouth full of cock and surrounded by admiring gauchos, Helga was bent over the table and taking a real pounding from behind while Anne Marie was forming a sandwich between two hefty guards and was clearly well on her way to the stars.
     
    The next morning, once breakfast had been served and basic grooming accomplished, Carlo allowed the slaves a morning’s rest but amused himself by caning the grooms for having been late to bed. Amelia glared at Brian as she bent over and flicked her little skirt up to receive the eight strokes they were all sentenced to.
    “Bastards didn’t finish screwing me till dawn! And I don’t like the way their spunk tastes down here either!” she whispered fiercely as he came to stand behind her and admire her pert little behind with its quivering pillows of soft buttock flesh. Beside her Patti was straightening up after Carlo had finished with her, her eyes were watering as she rubbed herself.
    “Why do I get the feeling that’s not the last punishment we’ll get before we load up to go home?” she complained.
    Carlo just laughed and moved on to cane Helga. Brian grinned behind Amelia’s upturned arse as he slashed in two quick, hard lashes and she fidgeted urgently. However, he knew that Carlo had a serious purpose behind the undeserved punishment. The grooms all needed to know that however strange things would seem over the coming days, there was one thing they could rely on; their masters’ discipline. Rules and procedures would be obeyed at all times by all females. Brian dealt out Amelia’s next six lashes in a steady rhythm, laying them on hard and pitilessly. She understood the reasoning perfectly and thanked him sincerely as she stood up, rubbing hard at her tramlines nonetheless. Alberto Salazar sent a carriage for them just before lunch time. His estate used four wheel, two seater carriages with a driver perched above the front wheels. The rig was pulled by two pony slaves with their arms crossed behind their backs and the crossbar and main shaft of the carriage strapped to thick belts at their waists. It was something of a show of his wealth of slave material that he could afford to use the carriages this close to a show but Carlo and Brian settled themselves into the leather seats and took comfort from the fact that they were there to back up so powerful a stable.
    “Senor Salazar say he wants you to have a guided tour before lunch,” their driver told them and then whipped up the ponies into a trot. The carriage lurched a few times and then settled into a steady speed as they pulled out from their block which in daylight they now saw stood about two hundred yards away from the quadrangle which formed the home team’s barracks. A quarter of a mile north of that stood the actual arena, where the visiting team would be housed, and the newly constructed circus stood a further quarter of a mile beyond that.
    The carriage took them into the courtyard in the centre of the home team barracks and then stopped. A tall, balding man stepped forwards and smiled broadly.
    “Hi, I’m glad to meet you,” he drawled in an unmistakably American accent. “My name’s Hank Manners. I’m Mr Salazar’s trainer and I’m glad to meet you both.”
    Hank took them on a quick tour of the barracks. Training hadn’t started yet and the squads were still in their dormitories while they digested their breakfasts. The buildings were simply and effectively designed. On each of the two floors a long corridor ran down the centre. At the far end were toilets and showers, on each side of the corridor were walls formed of iron bars with doors set in them at intervals, behind these were dormitories. Hank took them inside a couple of the long spartan rooms. There were simple rows of beds on which naked girls reclined until they heard the jangle of keys then they scrambled to their feet and stood with legs apart, hands behind