Brian glanced at her and realised that with her other hand she was wanking an elderly man. He spurted his seed over her hand even as Brian watched and then she was on her knees in front of him, fumbling with his trousers.
“If I’m quick, I can blow you before the last race,” she muttered.
“Stand up you silly bitch and bend over to do it. There’s a man who needs to fuck you.”
The man in question thanked Brian and stood behind Amelia who had hurriedly stood up and spread her legs. Brian himself stood up and she was able to bend over and get her mouth round him.
The two men nodded at each other companionably while each enjoyed their end of her. Although she wriggled vigorously on one cock and sucked hungrily at the other, she barely milked them in time to watch the race. But she just had time to get to the railing and hitch up her skirt again to take another man from behind as the starting pistol cracked. Brian smacked one buttock as he stood alongside her and then gripped a breast and squeezed again.
Ayesha had never taken whip like it. Once the pistol sounded, she shrieked as the lash scored her harder than ever; and faster. Behind her she could hear the others giving tongue and together they made a mad dash to get away from the scorching lash. She had no idea of what her driver intended and was past caring. Half blinded by sweat she raced down one length of the arena and was pulled hard in to the right. She only realised that they had overtaken the reds when she found they weren’t hitting anything and she was running alongside the centreboard, they skidded hard around the corner and held the inside lane on the second leg. The whipping decreased and the reins were pulled back just slightly. Suddenly in a storm of dust and a constant barrage of cracks from their whips, the red team struck back, overtaking on their left and causing Cherry to rear back as she was caught across her breasts by the opposition’s whipman. But as soon as the red chariot was two pairs of slaves ahead, Ayesha’s driver and whipman set about hammering at their team again and they reached the second turn holding station. The reds went wide, probably they had seen the injuries to the Prince’s team and saw no need to risk getting involved, they could win just by running. But Ayesha’s speculations were cut short by a renewed flurry of lashes. Shocked, she dug in but couldn’t understand why she was being asked to accelerate into a corner.
The answer came halfway round, she was wrenched to the right cruelly hard this time and she and Cherry had to practically turn on a sixpence. But she felt the rig behind her spin round so fast it nearly dragged her off her feet and there were screams and yells behind her and she realised what had been done. Their driver had pulled off the drift manoeuvre. He had managed to let the chariot skid sideways into the opposition’s slaves, taking their legs out from under them.
Amelia climaxed at the sight of the chaos on the arena floor. The two men had to dismount and sort out the slaves who were tangled up in the reins and each other. It was all captured on one of the video screens and the moment of impact was replayed in slow motion. It was easy to see the way the wheel of the purple chariot took the second slave on the red’s right completely off her feet and sent her legs crashing into her partner who fell and tripped the slave behind. In slow motion the curling of the long driving whip and its impact on the sweating slaveflesh was fascinating.....
In The Prize, the fates of several women are decided; Amelia, Ayesha and Karen. All three of them are transformed out of all recognition by their contact with the world of the arenas.
This is a classic in its own right – let alone being part of a best-selling series. Fans of Silver Moon books seek it out from all over the world, it’s graphic, clever, ingenious and erotically cruel. Unmissable!