THE GLADIATOR Read Online Free PDF

wouldn’t let her stay down from then on. But at long last she had reached the end of her tether and had fainted under the assault of one last almighty orgasm when four men had held her spreadeagled on the sand while a man lay under her, plundering her rectal passage, another lay on top, shafting her inundated vagina and when they had finished three more stood over her, whipped her and then pumped their cocks with their hands till their spend splattered her from throat to crotch.
     
    Even in her agonising bondage, Tara squirmed again as she felt her labia, still sore and stinging, engorge and peel apart at the memory of how it had felt to be the star of such a depraved show. But suddenly, in the deepening twilight around her, she heard voices approach and one voice was that of her owner. She knew that however wonderful the arena had been, being shown off by him to his guests would crown the whole event for her.
     
    There was, however, one person who had not enjoyed the show. She was Patti Campbell and she was Mark Cavanagh’s original slave. She had been devoted to him even before he had become involved with Conor Brien and the arenas. She had watched as the two men had developed the whole concept of promoting female fighting, and she had noted how the big Irishman had gradually asserted himself over Mark. Certainly everyone on the estate referred to Mark as ‘Boss’ but she knew that when the two were alone, it was Conor who held sway. He was away recruiting another twelve girls to swell the ranks of the squad at the moment but Patti knew who really ran the show. However, that wasn’t really her major concern just then - it was the big blonde squad captain. Patti was normally self-confident about her appearance, she was big breasted and had the sort of luxuriant figure which promised long endurance under the whip, in addition she had a spectacular mane of copper-coloured hair which she knew Mark adored. But over the past few weeks she hadn’t been able to shake off the feeling that this blonde could provide competition for her. At thirty years of age and with a lot of money saved up, Patti was beginning to think that maybe it was time she made a move.
    Mark had been completely wrapped up in the performance of his slaves and had ignored her totally. The fact that she had loved every second of watching the combats, the chariot races, the evening pony races, the pursuit running, the mud wrestling, the whip duels, only made it worse that she had not had the release of being at her master’s mercy. Instead she had had to either masturbate frantically or have a household slave kneel and give her relief orally. Neither came anywhere near having the whip followed by her master’s cock.
    And even now that it was all over and Mark’s stable had emerged as overall winners, she was still feeling badly out of sorts. Mark was in high good humour but spent all his time with the cold and threatening Prince, who owned the opposing stable, even during the party. And to make it worse, Ali, the Sudanese major domo and Gerd, the estate’s manager had surpassed themselves in the cleverness of the way the slaves had been displayed. As she had dutifully fulfilled her social duties with Mark’s privileged guests, strolling through the gardens, she had caught her breath at the way the naked bodies had been suspended and tied. Pergolas, redolent of scented blossom in the twilight, had been further adorned by girls whose bodies had been twined around with tendrils of the climbing plants. They had been chained and tied tightly enough that they couldn’t squirm and spoil the effect of the tableaux they presented even when one availed oneself of the nipple and labial clamps and needles which had been left for the guests’ enjoyment.
    Patti had repeatedly felt herself heat and moisten as the slaves groaned and tried to twist, their eyes closing as they experienced the submissive’s tormented heaven. A scarlet paradise she had explored so