THE GLADIATOR Read Online Free PDF Page A

number were still on their feet and still putting up good fights, taking repeated lashes but refusing to go down. Scattered about were prostrate female bodies, some panting in the aftermath of being defeated and then taken, others still lying under or kneeling before their conquerors. And everywhere, it seemed, her eye was drawn to the indefatigably erect cocks with their devastating lacings. Up on the screens the cameras were zooming in on them ramming between spread labia or disappearing between lips opened to their utmost or sinking into the puckered little craters between heavily lacerated buttocks. But there were still plenty of duels going on. Tara forced her legs back into action and tried to ignore the cool oozing and the inner burning at her crotch as she stooped to gather her whip once again and looked for a new opponent and a new defeat.
    After that she could recall very little except isolated incidents; she knew she had fought again and again, however cruelly the men played with her before taking her - snaking their whips up between her legs which she had to spread wide to keep her balance by then - she would slowly stagger to her feet and invite another lesson in submission. She vaguely recalled being taken from behind while two more men stood over her and showered her back with their spend. She knew she had knelt and sucked on the richly flavoured cocks of several men. And then finally there had come the time when she had staggered upright from another double shafting and looked around to see that she was the last one standing.
    She should have stayed down. Remembering back, as she squirmed on her buttplug, waiting for someone to return and enjoy her discomfort, Tara knew she could have saved herself a lot of whipping and the most testing penetrations she had ever experienced. But as she tried to grin despite the gag strap, she knew that that was the exact reason why she had struggled up again.
    By then the arena was reverberating to the sounds of the whips being plied at the top of the hill and the deafening cheers of the crowd. Exhausted slaves nevertheless performed their erotic dances under the lashes. Some men were dragging the last few slaves up the hill to wait their turn. Tara could see no formal tally of punishment or reward being given by the thumbs up or down, in fact once she looked more closely at the crowd she realised that the whole arena, slaves, guards and onlookers were in the grip of a ferocious sexual frenzy. Behind the fences she could see a lot of naked flesh on the terraces and felt a surge of excitement at the thought of the frenzied couplings which would be going on.
    Gathering herself once more, finding that her reserves of strength had not quite been exhausted, she tottered up and found a whip. The first male gladiator she encountered couldn’t believe that one girl remained ready for more. But a few clumsy lashes from her convinced him. He was a tall, wiry black man with a long, slender cock rearing up from his belly. He easily disarmed her but instead of taking her where she was, he dragged her over to the fence and pushed her up against it, face first. She clung onto it for support as he treated her back to some more punishment to get her seething inside again and then rammed into her back passage as she stuck her bottom out for him. In front of her, men and women reached for her breasts through the fence, their faces glazed with lust and excitement. Particularly the women she noticed. Some of them were even scoring their own breasts with their nails. Their clothes hung from them in rags and even as she was taken in the arena, they were being taken by any man who cared to in the audience.
    She collapsed to her knees once her sodomiser had finished with her but stubbornly climbed up again. This time the crowd’s noise surged again as she did. She realised she must be on every screen now. The last slave standing.
    She couldn’t remember whether she kept getting up or the men