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turned back to contemplating the view again as Mostyn gestured the girl to rise. He would need a blow job, and as far as John was concerned, the quicker the girl could see to him and bring the meeting to a successful close, the better. Another truck was roaring away from the building site at the CSL stableyard. The builders worked for a company owned by one of the members and the men’s silence about anything they might see had been bought by the use of the Housegirls.
    It was all change, he reflected again. Even governments were moving in on the arenas, it wasn’t just here in the UK but all over the world. And it wasn’t as if they were trying to stifle them and outlaw them any more. They had tried that and failed. Now they wanted to be involved – and share in the revenue of course - and in the UK one of The Lodge’s oldest members was the moving force behind it in the corridors of power. MacIntyre – he of the eccentric waistcoats that the tabloids seldom saw beyond and who was content with the nickname of ‘Dandy’– was manoeuvring towards the ultimate goal of making the arenas street legal.
    John knew he meant well but both he and Carlo were anxious. Then again Carlo had never really seen beyond his slaves’ performance out on the sands of the arena floors. That was what had made him great in the past, but was it enough in these changing times? John had always tried to see the bigger picture, the trouble was now that the picture could get almost too big!
    A grunt of pleasure drew John’s attention back to the room and he turned to see Mostyn face fucking the girl who was kneeling before him, his hands gripped tightly in her thick, wavy, chestnut hair.
    He pushed her away as he finished spending, not bothering to let her clean him properly, pulled his trousers up and zipped his flies. She stood up, daintily wiping her chin with a finger and licking it clean, waiting to see if she was required for anything else. He noticed that she couldn’t resist a quick rub at her bottom and a twist to see if she could see any of her welts.
    If Madame had seen her she would have been in solitary for a fortnight, Madame held that no girl had any business being interested in what had been done to her as long as there was the possibility that she might need to serve again. John didn’t object however, he liked seeing girls take an intelligent interest in their use.
    “The agreed amount will be transferred at the end of this week,” Mostyn said, gathering up his briefcase.
    “Do you really think this will work?” John asked.
    “It will. Part of society’s got too fat and too safe and too cosseted. Part’s got too feral. The arenas will act as safety valves for both. It’s not a case of it might work, it’s a case of it must work. Our research shows inner cities in particular are going to become wastelands if we don’t do something. Now, I’ve got a prime candidate for Proteus waiting in my hotel room, so I’ll be off and call you later in the week.”
    John rang down to reception for a girl to come and show Mostyn out while he went back to the window and looked out over the changing CSL stable. If this all went as the government wanted – what would the stock be like? Where would the girls come from? How would they be trained for life in the arenas? Could they be trained at all?
    They were all questions that he wasn’t sure he or Carlo had the answers to any more. He glanced back at the girl who was still standing quietly, legs neatly together, hands behind her back. Well, there were at least still some well trained girls bought from auction as they had always been……he clicked his fingers and she came to stand beside him.
    Her corset mounded her pale, smooth skinned breasts up to perfection, coyly hiding the areolas and the nipples but nothing above them. It nipped her waist in so that her hips flared out spectacularly and at her neatly shaven delta an equally neat vulva just afforded a glimpse of the cleft