Blonde Fury by Sean O'Kane

bucked and thrashed under her, Ace lowered her head and drank in the juice that flooded from her and sobbing cries from above her announced that Tracey had come. For a moment they lay, Tracey splayed out and wrecked, Ace with her head resting on one of her thighs, her hands still under Tracey’s buttocks , then she slowly began to make her way up her lover’s body, stopping to kiss the deep cushions of breastflesh on the way. Tracey was always just on the cusp of being overweight and was frequently removed from the rest of the squad for special training but her good humour and resilience to suffering in the arenas meant she had value to the stable, besides she was a superb pass maker on the Demolition Derby track. Tracey groaned softly under the caresses and Ace knew that the endorphins released by the chip would be beginning to stir again with the stimulation of having her lover lying on her. The need to climax again would grow until she would have no choice but to bring herself off if there was no outside stimulation. They were sex addicts and now it was Ace’s turn for a fix .

Trace y wriggled her way down Ace, pausing to lick her breasts and keeping her hands there to twist and pull on the nipples. Ace pressed her hands to Tracey’s urging her on to hurt them and crying out in relief when she did. She felt her belly melt as the pain spear ed through her deliciously and T racey’s mouth arrived at her cunt.
    The ascent to heaven was so rapid and devastating that Ace was almost taken by surprise by the onrush of ecstasy as Tracey’s tongue lashed her clitoris mercilessly and her fingers clawed into her breasts. She cried out again and again as wave after wave of overload engulfed her, t hen the small windowless room was silent except for the deep, contented breathing of the two slave girls. Gradually faint noises from the outside world filtered through and they could make out the sounds of practice chariot races being run, the voices of the trainers were just able to penetrate the stone walls, as were the smacks and thuds of the whips.
    Tracey slithered her way up Ace’s body, both of them now slicked by post-orgasmic sweat and the two grinned at each other before settling as best they could on the narrow bed. An arena slave soon developed almost cat-like abilities of relaxation when she wasn’t nee ded and soon they were drowsing, relaxing until the chips kicked in again.

     
     
    It just seemed natural for two fugitives to gravitate towards the Left Bank in Paris. Sophie and Tom found a small but clean hotel and paid with cash for a room for a couple of days while they tried to think ahead. They had emptied their accounts of cash at an ATM outside a hub station on the Tube back in London , hoping to leave no clue as to their direction of travel. Now t hey had a small window of opportunity to try and regroup.
    They wandered the crowded streets, their senses assailed by the sm e lls of cooking drifting from countless small cafes and bars. The people they brushed against and jostled were from widely different racial backgrounds and in all the hustle and lights and traffic, no one gave them a second glance.
    It was the evening of their first full day in Paris and Tom had guided them into a bar for a drink after they had had a frugal supper of baguettes, salami and chorizo in their room at the hotel . They sat hunched over their drinks, trying to keep their faces in shadow.
    “ It’s no good, I just can’t walk away! I’m going back, Sophie, ” Tom said at last. “I’ll get a flight to Cork and take a ferry back to Wales. Hopefully they won’t be looking for me coming in that way if they still think we’re on the run over here. ”
    Sophie felt she ought to try and talk him out of it, but the truth was that she had been thinking they ought to split up in any case. Firstly, the minute they left the raffish and shady , melting pot area of the left bank , they would stand out a mile; she virtually six foot in