Susie Learns the Hard Way Page 10

  One or two of them seemed disdainful, as if they resented her presence, but most of them belonged to the other group, who looked out of the corner of their eye, watching her as she moved around the hall. Thumping sacks or pressing weights or sparring, their eyes followed her, making her conscious of the tap of her heels, the swish of stocking against stocking, the flick of her skirt around her knees and the teasing bounce inside her blouse.

  One of them, who watched especially carefully, looked vaguely familiar, and though she tried not to stare at him she couldn’t help it, her eyes drawn back to him time after time. And of course each time she looked his way he was staring at her, and caught her glances often enough that he started to preen himself. As if she could have found him attractive; a short, barrel-shaped specimen with no teeth and squinty eyes, he looked too small to be a boxer of any ability.

  But he wasn’t the only one staring at her like that. The others were still looking her up and down as if she was going to be their next meal, and she started to feel uneasy. She’d been nervous before, but now she was getting a little frightened.

  They were still busy doing whatever it was they were doing, and as their exercising raised their body temperatures the smell of oil and sweat grew stronger and part of her was thrilled by their close-up near-nakedness, the rippling muscles and the steady flow of sweat that spread a light sheen across their bodies. Deep between her thighs, the trickle of fear became a steady flow of warmth.

  She watched intently, absorbed in the spectacle, and she didn’t really see or take much notice of the whispering between Harry and Nobby, the grubby little man in the tracksuit who ran the club, though clearly it was the purpose of their visit. Remembering her promise to Harry, to keep out of the way until he needed her special qualifications, she felt she was doing the right thing and continued watching the sparring. Moving round the hall, watching different pairs of boxers, she found herself opposite the open door to the changing rooms. Inside, in the bright light, stood a six-foot teenager she’d heard the others call Alf. Naked from head to toe and slippery wet from the shower, he glistened like a bar of dark chocolate – perfectly formed, with great biceps and triceps, and a long dangling penis, swinging from side to side as he dried himself.

  He looked up and saw her staring. No more than seventeen, maybe eighteen, he looked her in the eye. There was a pause as he stopped patting himself dry, and then brought the towel up under his flaccid penis with both hands and cupped it, lifting it towards her, rubbing it slowly. He could have been drying it and certainly would have said that if she’d screamed, but there was no mistaking the unspoken message; large as it was to start with, it grew thicker and straighter in his hands. And as she watched, fascinated, Susie felt a flutter in her panties as her body opened like a flower.

  There was no telling how long she might have stood there staring, but a whistle blared in the hall, an intrusive blast that grabbed her attention. All the youngsters were heading towards the old boy with the whistle, and when she looked back into the changing rooms Alf had turned his back, and she had only a fraction of time to admire his chiselled young buttocks before he pulled on a pair of snug-fitting pants.

  She pulled herself together and found Harry.

  ‘What’s going on?’ she asked him, inclining her head towards the group of lads gathered around the old man. Alf was there, she noticed, still naked apart from the towel draped around his neck and the lemon pants, which fitted even more snugly at the front than they did at the back. He gave her one more arrogant glance before turning away, bending slightly to listen to instructions from Nobby.

  ‘Oh, nothing much,’ he said airily, with a dismissive gesture. ‘They’re just organising a little bout. They usually end the evening with a fight, you see. Of course they’re all a bit excited to have an audience tonight.’ He gave a long, thoughtful stare.

  ‘You and me, you mean?’

  ‘Well you, mostly.’

  He smiled, and Susie smiled back. ‘It’s working, then?’

  ‘What? What is?’ Harry looked around and then back at her. It was the first time all day he’d looked anything other than complacent and self-assured.

  ‘Having me around. A woman. It’s working. I’m keeping their attention distracted from you.’

  Harry’s shoulders relaxed and settled into their normal droop once more, and his smile reappeared. ‘Oh yes,’ he confirmed. ‘It’s working all right.’

  He looked away from her, and she followed his eyes across the hall to where the group of youngsters gathered round the trainer were still talking in low, excited tones. Every so often one of them would glance across the room, giving her that ‘ice-cream in the desert’ sensation. Then they all looked together, she felt a clutch of fear deep inside, and they turned back to Nobby and continued with what had now become a very animated but very quiet discussion.

  Then they all started nodding at once and the group broke up, all heading in different directions, spreading around the ring with expectant faces. Raised a couple of feet off the floor it wasn’t as high as a real boxing ring, but it was high enough to make spectators look up and give them a good view.

  And right now they were getting a good view of Alf, who’d been to the changing rooms and put on some rather less revealing shorts, as well as lace-up boots and a pair of blood-red gloves. He was quickly joined in the ring by Nobby, who spoke a few words in his ear, and the barrel-shaped youth who’d been staring at Susie earlier. As the trainer went over to speak to him, he was joined by a younger lad in T-shirt and shorts who unbuckled the head-guard, freeing the piggy face, and suddenly she realised who he was. Or to be more accurate, who he looked like.

  She thought she’d seen him before, and now his face was fully visible she realised with a shock that he might have been the Prince’s bodyguard from her dreams. No, that he was the bodyguard. He’d been a regular visitor to her fantasies ever since she was a schoolgirl, and his appearance had never changed in all that time. And now here he was, climbing into the ring not five feet away from her, evil personified and real.

  She shook her head in disbelief.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Harry, suddenly solicitous.

  ‘Nothing. Nothing.’

  Nothing she could tell Harry about, anyway. Of course it was just coincidence, nothing more, but it was nevertheless a disturbing feeling to be looking at someone who had treated her so badly so many times even though it was at her own request, so to speak.

  Then there was a sharp blast of the whistle and the two boxers began to circle cautiously around each other, Alf dancing lightly on his feet and the bodyguard – he would always be the bodyguard to Susie – shuffling heavily in pursuit. There was a sudden flurry of arms and a quick rattle of feet on the floor of the ring; not canvas, she noticed, but sheets of plain wood. The big gloves slapped across shoulders, chest and face as Alf landed three rapid punches.

  Susie almost cheered to see the bodyguard get what he deserved, her pleasure slightly lessened because the attack didn’t even make him blink, and he continued prowling across the ring towards Alf.

  Three more rapid shots snapped the bodyguard’s head from side to side.

  ‘Yes!’ Susie hissed, loud enough for everyone to hear, and several pairs of eyes turned her way. One or two looked happy to see she was enjoying the display, and one or two looked just like they had earlier – ready to eat her for dinner.

  Twice more Alf landed the same blast of three dazzlingly fast punches and danced away to safety.

  Each time he did it Susie cheered, louder now, with increasing confidence and increasing enjoyment. Then Alf stepped up again, but he’d landed just two of the three when a trunk-like arm swung up under his blurring gloves and a clubbing right hook landed on the side of his jaw with a sickening sound. His head jerked to one side and his eyes glazed. But his dancing feet flailed at the floor before they found a grip and carried him
whirling away to safety, shaking his head to clear it.

  The other boxers cheered and the trainer motioned the fighters to carry on. Susie looked in horror at the blood dripping from Alf’s mouth. But he was undeterred and closed in on the bodyguard, changing his tactics, hopping from foot to foot just out of reach of those deadly hands, occasionally leaning in to pop a jab on the other youth’s chin or nose.

  Then he landed one solid jab high up on the bodyguard’s face and blood instantly gushed from the corner of an eye. But he didn’t falter, merely waiting for Alf to come floating in for the follow-up and smashing that monster right clean through Alf’s guard, missing his chin and catching him full in the mouth. Alf staggered and fell to one knee and the crowd began to bay. The trainer dived between them and pushed the bodyguard back, making him circle like an animal waiting for the kill as Alf rose, his lip already thickening.

  On his feet, he approached the bodyguard carefully and Susie felt his fear, sensed the danger of his opponent and realised the damage he could do. A mixture of wild excitement and terrible apprehension welled up inside her, and as she cheered for Alf she felt her knickers dampen even more. As the two carried on hitting each other, brutal blows to body and face that made them grunt with effort and pain, Susie cheered, the other fighters cheered, the fight ebbed and flowed across the ring and warm juices flowed into Susie’s knickers as she revelled in the animal violence. For a while Alf seemed to be getting the better of it and as his fists danced across the bodyguard’s face and body with a series of rapid jabs and hooks. But then he strayed too close, and one of those steam-hammer rights came swinging round and thudded on the point of his chin.

  From where Susie stood he seemed to sail backwards in slow motion, hanging in the air before dropping flat on his back with a crash that shook the whole hall into silence.

  She knew nothing about boxing, but she knew he wouldn’t be getting up again, and she was right. The trainer beckoned, two young lads clambered into the ring, grabbed Alf by his arms and legs and staggered off to the changing rooms with him.

  It had gone quiet, and Susie had just about regained control of her breathing when she realised everyone was staring at her. She cast her mind back, but she didn’t think she’d said or done anything to warrant such attention. While she thought, two of the young lads were holding the ropes apart and Nobby the trainer was beckoning for her to climb into the ring.

  ‘What does he want me to... Harry? Harry?’ She looked all round but Harry was nowhere to be seen; he must have slipped away while she’d been so preoccupied with the fight, and her stomach lurched. Surely he wouldn’t have gone off and left her there? But even as the thought occurred to her she heard the answer in the back of her mind – of course he would, that’s just what he’d do. Having made certain she didn’t have a clue where she was, he would think himself dead clever for leaving her there to find her own way to the hotel that had been booked for her.

  Susie considered walking out, and the more she thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. Even if she hadn’t a clue where she was, the main road wasn’t far and there she could hail a taxi. Even as she told herself she had nothing to be frightened of, she felt herself being pushed gently forward.

  ‘I... um... what...?’ Hands were pressing into her back, urging her on, and faces grinned encouragement. She couldn’t think what they wanted, but she couldn’t think of a reason not to do as they wanted either. Perhaps it was a presentation of some sort. They certainly couldn’t expect her to fight the bloke. Shrugging, she put one leg through the ropes and ducked down below the top one, stepping into the ring. Nobby reached out a helping hand and as she took it another one pressed her bottom, not so much helping her up as feeling her up.

  But it was over in a second, and with an angry glance behind her, she was in the ring, the boxers surrounding it once again cheering, though she still didn’t know what for.

  Still holding her hand, Nobby led her towards the centre of the ring where the bodyguard waited. Still puzzled, she followed unresistingly until she was a foot or so away from the squat, barrel-chested teenager, grinning at her through a well-hammered and bleeding face, puffed up like a blistered melon. Now she was close to him it was hideously clear that he had a serious body odour problem and breath like a camel.

  There was a pause, and then the two lads who’d carried Alf away returned from the changing rooms, greeted with much backslapping from the others around the ring. Then they all turned back and looked expectantly through the ropes. Looking at her. Looking her greedily up and down as if she was the next item on a menu.

  ‘I hope you don’t think I’m going to fight anyone,’ she said to Nobby, only half joking because of course she knew deep inside they didn’t expect her to. But the way they were staring, the same expressions on their faces as they’d worn during the fight, told her they expected something from her.

  In a sudden blaze of light it became clear. She was on the menu. The fight had been for real, she was the prize, and dog-breath was waiting to claim her!

  Seized by panic she again looked wildly round the hall for Harry, but there was definitely no sign of him.

  ‘Where’s Harry?’ she demanded, grabbing desperately at Nobby’s shirt. ‘Where’s Harry? I must speak to Harry. It’s urgent!’

  ‘He’s not ‘ere,’ said the little man. ‘He ‘ad to slip aht ter see a man abaht a dog.’ He winked hugely. ‘Never mind ‘im, let’s get on wiv it.’ And he nodded meaningfully towards the ugly brute beside Susie.

  ‘But, I, get on with what? I – I must see Harry. I must. There’s been a mistake, a terrible mistake...’ Her voice trailed to a gradual halt. Nobby was looking at her, and there was no sympathy in his expression.

  ‘Look kidder,’ he said firmly, ‘Harry fixed all this up. An’ ‘e said you’d be all right wiv it. ‘He said,’ putting special emphasis on the word, ‘you’d be ‘appy for the hopporchunity to use yer special talents.’

  Susie went cold all over. Harry had quite deliberately set her up, leaving her alone in a room full of strapping young fighters, miles from anywhere she knew or felt safe. And if that wasn’t enough he’d actually told them she would be happy to be given away like a trinket to any Tom, Dick, or pig-ugly whatever-his-name-was. No wonder they’d all been grinning and looking at her like that.

  ‘The bastard,’ she said, eventually.

  ‘Never mine that,’ countered Nobby. ‘This barsted ‘ere ‘as just fought ‘is bollocks off for a prize what ‘e was promised. Do you want to tell ‘im you don’t like is looks? Or shall I tell ‘im ‘e can only have ‘is prize if ‘e can catch it?’

  Susie looked across at the impassively ugly teenager, and saw no sympathy there either. Then she looked down at the eager young faces staring hungrily up between the ropes. She didn’t think they would be too sympathetic either. The only door was at the other end of the hall. Even if she could climb through the ropes, they’d easily catch her before she took a single step. It looked as if there was no escape.

  And anyway, wasn’t she in a trap of her own making? Hadn’t she only that morning and then constantly throughout the day, assured first the editor and then Harry that she could take care of herself? ‘Anywhere Harry can go, I can go,’ she’d bragged. ‘You’ll be happy to make use of my special talents,’ she’d bragged again. All her words, all her reasoned arguments came rushing back at her like a whirlwind of anger – at herself. Harry may have sprung the trap, and may even have walked her up to it, but she’d certainly set the snares herself. She was there because she’d asked – begged – to be there.

  Nobby had been watching her carefully, and he saw the change in her face, the set of determination as she raised her chin.

  ‘All right,’ she said quietly, and Nobby’s head bobbed gently up and down, like a nodding dog, before he stepped away and dropped down between the ropes.

  The bodyguard licked his swoll
en lips and his eyes crawled over her, just like a hungry man sizing up his dinner and deciding which bit to have first. Finally making up his negligible mind he reached out both enormous hands and pulled her jacket off her shoulders, letting it slip down her arms and fall to the floor.

  There were murmurs of approval from around the ring. Susie could feel herself trembling all over, the icy bite of fear zipping and unzipping her spine. Huge fingers scrabbled at the buttons of her blouse, pulling it roughly from the waistband of her skirt, and pushing it back on her shoulders. Murmurs of approval became louder comments of delight as she stood under the bright lights, her breasts swelling firmly inside the black lace of her bra, proudly firm. His fingertips were rough on her skin, like pieces of wood, pulling the shoulder straps down before burying into each cup and squeezing her breasts into view.

  The crowd around the ring growled with a single, animal voice. Susie looked down as the big fingers spread out around her breasts, pressing and massaging, and then nipping at the dark nipples, finger and thumb tweaking and pinching. And the growling got louder as the small darts of electricity crackled and flashed from the tip of each nipple to the pit of her stomach, deeper into her groin so she could feel the soft walls contract in tiny spasms that made her gasp; whispered moans slipping out between moist and slightly parted lips.

  His hands fell away. As heavy fingers fumbled at her side she felt the waistband of her skirt slacken and the faint tremor as the zip slid down. Then the skirt obeyed the laws of gravity, brushing her legs with a lover’s caress as it fell to the wooden boards. The cheer was deafening as the lads took in the sight before them: long shapely legs, shining with a golden skin tone of her stockings, the dark tops circling her slender thighs, the tight pull of the black suspenders and the narrow V of black silky panties, the lace front just see-through enough to show the contrast between her white skin and the darker patch where her soft blonde hair dusted the mound between her thighs.