RELUCTANT GLADIATOR - Part Twenty Eight A story by Pete Brown (petebrownuk @ yahoo.com)
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
I had one of those dreams in the night - one of those incredible dreams you only have occasionally, when everything seems perfect. I felt the hard, strong body of Mike intertwined with mine, experienced the throbbing heat of his dick pressed against my own, then we kissed deeply and slowly, and languidly jerked each other off, all the time running our hands over each others bodies in a frenzy of excitement and pleasure until the lovely hot sliminess of our cum was coating us and filling our noses with that special manly scent. But it was only a dream, and when I awoke the reality was different: instead of Mike's fabulous hard muscles there was only the slender litheness of Luke, and although his hard dick was pressed against my body, it wasn't the same as Mike's long, thick dick which was so like my own. I lay there in bitter disappointment for a few seconds as the realisation struck home, then knew that at least some of my dream had been true - there was that special feeling in my dick and balls that you only get after you've cum, and as I moved my body against Luke's I felt the warm slither of cum against me. I thought at first that I'd jerked Luke off, or that he'd jerked me off, but he was soundly asleep; and as I touched his dick I could tell that he had not cum as he was still rock hard. I must have had a "wet dream"! I hadn't had once of those since I was about twelve, I reckon, before I'd learned about jerking off, and as I lay there thinking about it, I suppose I recognised that it was because my body was remembering Mike and was trying somehow to tell "me" that there was something I was truly missing. Somehow in all the excitement of getting my own freedom and of tracing Tom, getting Luke as my indenture, and now going to collect Jamie, I'd managed to push Mike out of my mind. Deep down, in some primitive part of my brain, a deep consciousness knew better, though: it had filled my dream with thoughts of Mike, and then had made my dick act to give me a tangible reminder.
I lay there thinking about all of this, but then Luke began to stir and wake up. His hand reached out and, still half asleep, he curled it around my neck and pulled himself closer to me. He was stretching and moving his body in that sensuous way that guys do when waking from a deep sleep, and almost instinctively I reached down to stroke his dick - but then stopped. It just didn't feel right to be jerking off Luke, when my thoughts a few moments ago had been so focussed on Mike.
We got up and showered and I shaved (Luke didn't yet need to do it every day), and I think he thought that it was strange that we didn't have sex of some sort. But he sensed my mood of introspection and did not say anything about it, but at breakfast he was much more chatty and excited as he was telling Ann and Jon how much he was looking forward to seeing his brother again.
It was decided that it would be best if only Ann and I went to Philips' to collect Jamie - Jon had work to do anyway, and I thought that it would be better for Luke not to see his brother in that place but to meet him later at the apartment. Ann said she'd come with me as it was entirely possible that Straughan or Jason would try to renege on the deal, and that the presence of my lawyer would inhibit them.
Ann drove in her normal competently controlled way out to the school, and we went in through the "private" entrance to the offices. I couldn't help giving an involuntary shudder as once more I went through the doors into that place - it hadn't been an unhappy five years actually, especially as I'd met Mike, but somehow I felt a sense of oppression as I entered, as if I was expecting an order to be barked at me followed by the sting of the lash. All went well though and we went into Straughan's office, and he was actually quite cordial and businesslike - it seemed that he wanted me to change my mind about taking Jamie - Ann at once pointed out that he was contractually bound to give him up to me, but then it turned out that what Straughan was looking for was a deal! He would be prepared to actually pay me to leave Jamie as a gladiator there at Philips' - I'd always assumed that Philips' actually owned all the gladiators there, but it seemed that it was possible for others to buy a likely-looking piece of manhood at the slave market, then "rent him out" to Philips' for training and fighting, in exchange for a share of the profits the gladiator would make for them if he was any good.
"No way!", I told him, of course.
"Steve, think on a bit", Ann then counselled me. "You're going to need money, and, quite honestly, you're not very well placed for the job market, are you? You didn't go to college, you were dishonourably discharged from the marines, and you've spent five years fighting - not a lot of experiences to recommend you to potential employers, is there? What are you going to live on, Steve? You can probably only get a job doing hard manual labour, and the wages there are very low now as it's easy for an employer to go out and buy a slave to do it. And the same is true if you try to hire out Jamie yourself - although he's younger than you, which would be an advantage I suppose, he didn't go to college either as he's been here, so the amount you'll get for his work will be very low...."
"I'm not going to rent Jamie out! I'm going to free him..."
"You can't, Steve. Jamie isn't indenture, as you were: he's been sentenced to slavery. And that's for life, always, with no possibility of freedom. And I don't want to worry you, Steve, but as his owner you assume responsibility for him: you've got to feed and house him, keep him clothed - well, minimally, at least - take him to the veterinarian and pay the bills if he's sick.... If you're not careful you could end up destitute yourself, and these days the courts take a simple view of men who can't pay their way in society: if they're not capable of making a living for themselves, they'll be enslaved and sold to someone who can use them productively for the greater good. You don't want to end up as a slave - a real slave, a slave for life - because you took on responsibility for a slave, do you?"
"No, of course not! But I've got to give it a shot. We'll manage somehow."
"As your legal advisor, Steve, I have a duty to recommend caution - perhaps you don't know exactly how tough it is in the job market for the unqualified these days: things have changed a lot in the five years you were indentured, as the concept of using slaves has really caught on, and the government has leaned on the courts to make sure there's a ready supply of them." Ann stopped, sighed, and went on "But I can see you're determined, and nothing I say is likely to change your mind. Still, I suppose that if after a few months things are going badly for you it would always be possible then to rent out Jamie as a gladiator."
"He'd have lost his edge", Straughan cut in. "And the crowds would have forgotten about him so he'd no longer have the reputation that you need for the premier circuit. You'd get a lot less rent for him than if you left him here now where he's fully trained and 'known' to our patrons."
I glared at him. "No fucking way! Five years is long enough for any man to have to fight. There's no way I'm going to rent Jamie out as a gladiator, not now, not ever."
Straughan gave one of his small, evil smiles. "You should listen to your lawyer, Steve. Things are tough out there! I think you'll be renting Jamie out soon enough... well, as soon as the first writ for debt come, anyway - but not as a gladiator perhaps. The boy's got a good body, and so for a few years at least you'll be able to pimp him and pick up good fees from punters who like fucking with a handsome muscled guy. You can probably do that yourself, too - some people prefer an older guy, you know."
"No way! That's disgusting... Making Jamie stud old bitches who happen to have the money to pay...."
Straughan smiled that tight mile again. "Oh I don't think it would be like that, Steve! The market for good-looking, young, fit sex toys is with men. There are a lot of men who'd pay good money for a couple of hours with Jamie. And for you, for that matter. Although you might do best as a duo - one of you fucking the other, whilst the client watches, or joins in and fucks the other...."
I almost hit him, and Ann had to restrain me. She held on to my arm and said crisply and professionally "Mr Straughan, the future of my client is of no concern to you. And you should be careful about making statements that may reflect badly on my client's business or personal activities, especially in the presence of his lawyer. Now, as they say, let's cut the crap! I've a busy day ahead of me, with other appointments. So bring out my client's slave so that we can inspect him and make sure he's not been damaged in these past months, then we'll sign the transfer of ownership forms..." She handed Straughan a slim document headed "Contract For Sale", which as I saw it made me feel all kind of funny inside, to think that a man like Jamie was going to be sold, just like a piece of property, "...and we'll be away."
Straughan picked up his phone and barked "Bring Jamie in", and a few moments later there he was, being shepherded by Jason (who looked really pissed off).
"There he is", Straughan told us as he reached for a pen, scribbled his name on the contract, and passed it back to Ann. "Just get your client's signature, then you can be out of here."
"Not so fast.", Ann countered. "We'll need to inspect the property to ensure he's in good condition, as he was when we last saw him. Please have him strip."
Straughan snapped "Unclothe" at Jamie, and I saw a look of panic in Jamie's eyes - I mean, it's one thing to be naked with your fellow gladiators, especially as we only ever wore the small "uniform" anyway, and it's different too when you have to appear naked in the arena when you're distanced from the crowd, and there is a big mass of them. But here Jamie was in a small room with Ann only a couple of feet away from him., and it was all so much more intimate. He stood there hesitantly, and Jason touched him with his taser - it must have been on a light setting only as it only made Jamie jump and gasp involuntarily.
"You heard Mr Straughan!", Jason snapped. "Get out of that uniform, and let the lady get a good look at you."
Slowly Jamie pushed the uniform down so that it fell down his legs, then as he bent to step out of it where it was on the floor and pick it up, I got that sight that I always think is particularly nice of a fit guy - that moment when he's bent at the waist and you see his butt in outline and his thighs straining, and if the angle is right, that glimpse of his dick as it bobs around in response to his motion. It lasted only for a moment, then Jamie stood there in front of us holding his uniform sort of half in front of him as if he was somehow trying to use it to give himself a degree of modesty.
"Inspect him, Steve", Ann told me.
"It's OK, he looks good...."
"No, Steve. You need to inspect him properly - we don't want any possibility of subsequent disagreement about the contract. All slave transfer contracts say that the property has been inspected, and we don't want these gentlemen to have any 'wriggle room' in future if, say, they wanted Jamie back as a gladiator and then alleged that this contract was void as we had not completely performed all the clauses."
I suppose I knew what I had to do - I'd seen Jason and Straughan, and even some of the clients, inspect gladiators before. So I went over to Jamie where he was standing, stood behind him, then rested my hands on his shoulders. His skin was hot and slightly damp with his sweat under my fingers, and then as I moved my hands down his body resting them lightly against his sides and feeling his ribs as I did, I could feel Jamie shifting slightly under my touch. His butt was hard and firm as you'd expect, and as I bent to carry on moving my hands down, I got a faint scent of his maleness from where the sweat was now running faintly down his spine and forming small beads on that little flat place at the top of his ass crack. His calves felt solid and strong under my hands, then as I brought my hands back up I did so on the inside of his thighs, and as my hands came up Jamie spread his legs slightly to accommodate them.
It really was hot and damp at the top of his thighs! He was shaved there as all gladiators are, as I've told you, and I just got a slight touch of his asshole on my thumb, before I stood and said "He's fine."
"The front, Steve", Ann said. "You need to be thorough."
There's something very special about feeling around inside another guy's mouth, isn't there? When you probe your finger around his teeth to make sure he doesn't flinch because of decay, and when his hot wet tongue touches you, it makes you realise that you really are doing something that means you are in control of him and that he is there to be used by you. As I looked into Jamie's eyes as I did this, I saw something - was it subservience, or was it hate? It was impossible to say.
His strong neck excited my touch, especially as the blood vessels in the side were pulsing as Jamie was clearly under tension, and there was now sweat breaking out all over him. I simply couldn't resist letting my thumbs brush his nipples, and he reacted by giving a low moan, and as I touched them again, I could feel them going harder under my finger tips. They'd trimmed his chest hair somewhat so that it was visible and I could feel it under my fingers - like a lot of gladiators it was thought desirable to have a man's hair on show to demonstrate his virility, but you don't want so much that it obscures the sight of his muscles. I was used to these "trims" myself which was done by electric clippers on a high setting once every couple of weeks, and evidently they'd done Jamie earlier that day.
I cold feel the hard ridges of muscle on his flat belly as I worked my way downwards - he flinched as my little finger probed his navel - then of course there was his dick. Again, his pubes had been neatly trimmed in the proper gladiator fashion so that it didn't spray out from the tiny uniform, and as I went to take hold of his dick I told him quietly "It will soon be over now - hang in there, Jamie."
He didn't go fully erect as his dick lay there in the palm of my hand, and it seemed odd that I could read his name tattooed on it - I suppose I'd got used to seeing Luke's "virgin" dick, and the two brothers were so alike that the tattoo seemed particularly shocking. Still, Jamie evidently trusted me as when I used my other hand to cup his balls and then to separate them and feel each testicle, he did not move at all - that was always difficult for me when I had my regular inspections by the trainers (there was always concern that young men like us might get testicular cancer so regular inspections were the norm), as even when another man knows what he's doing, there's some deep reflex in the body that simply doesn't want your balls played with, isn't there? Still, Jamie was OK, although I saw a small bead of pre-cum glistening there on the tip of his dick as I stood up and let him go. I saw his body visibly relax a little (probably unobserved by the others as it was very slight, but as a gladiator you learn to "read" even the smallest changes in another man as it may give you a valuable advantage in the fight), and he took a deeper breath, then went to put his "uniform" back on.
"Stay naked!", Jason snapped at him. Then to me he said "Aren't you going to see his semen?"
"Is that necessary?"
"Steve", Ann said quietly. "You're buying a young, virile male slave. Any Court would expect that you'd verified that he was 'working properly', so it would be a good plan to get the slave to ejaculate for us. It won't verify that his sperm is living and fertile of course, but at least we'll know that the basic apparatus is in working order."
I thought for a moment that she was suggesting that I should jerk him off, but Jamie had been listening to us and as I watched he began to blush even more than he had already been doing, then reached down and began to stroke his dick into life. It was really difficult for him, and I don't think that had I been him I could have done it - I mean, having people watch you as you jerk off makes it hard to maintain an erection, I find. And for another thing, most of us guys are used to jerking off when we're lying down, or when we're sprawled in a chair or something: I find it real hard to jerk off when I'm standing up, and I reckon a lot of those stories about guys standing there in the shower doing it are just that - stories. Somehow it's simply not natural to jerk off standing up, but Jamie seemed to do it: perhaps that's what being only twenty one does for you, as you're that much more horny!
We all stood there and watched as his hand slid up and down his dick - and after a few strokes he spat a big gob onto his palm, and then slicked it all over his now massively erect organ as he started to stroke away again. He was breathing really hard and giving small moans as he leaned backwards and thrust his hips forward in some sort of parody of the way you'd fuck, and it took remarkably little time before he gave an even louder moan, and then pushed his other hand under his dick to catch his cum as it came shooting out.
He stood there breathing very hard, and then contemptuously showed me his hand with the palm almost full of thick, white cum. Somehow this gesture and the defiant look on his face really annoyed me. As a champion gladiator I'd long ago learned not to tolerate even the slightest bit of rudeness from the younger guys, and it's important not to let them get away with anything I believe, or next time they are even more defiant or rude. So, looking Jamie squarely in the eye, I said quietly "Very good. Now, swallow it down and clean up your hand as we need to get out of here."
He glared at me and for a moment I thought he might refuse, but I sensed that my own body had tensed as I gave the order, tensed into a more "fighting" stance, and my hand had almost unconsciously moved upwards, as if ready to strike. These movements were too small for Ann to notice, but to another gladiator, trained to observe every tiny adjustment of his opponent's stance, the message to Jamie must have been very clear: obey, or suffer the consequences.
He'd know of course that in a fight he'd have no chance of beating me and that he'd be injured, possibly badly injured, and at the very least, hurt. So slowly, his eyes blazing with anger and shame, he raised his hand and began to lick his cum off it. You could almost feel the silence in the room as we all watched as his tongue worked away energetically, then he finished, and bent to pick up his uniform which had fallen to the floor.
"That stays here!", Jason rapped. And looking then at me he added "You only acquired Jamie, not any of his uniform."
"Come on, Jamie. You've been naked in public before. Let's get out of here", I said, controlling my temper.
"Wait a moment, Steve", Ann said, touching my arm lightly. "It's not legal to have a naked slave in public."
"Jamie's fought naked before. And you yourself saw me and Mike fight naked...."
"I was being imprecise. What I meant was to say that it's not legal to have a naked slave in the street. Some owners had started to run their ponies naked, and a lot of citizens objected, particularly in the congested part of downtown where a pony might brush up against a pedestrian crossing the street, so there is now a city-wide ordinance prohibiting slaves from appearing fully naked. It's all right out in the country for field hands and such like, of course, but here in the city, a slave needs at least a minimal covering."
"It's only across the parking lot...."
"Steve, I can't advise it. Suppose - and this is purely hypothetical, I'm not making any specific or even any general allegation about any person or organisation here - suppose the police department 'suspected' that a naked slave might appear in the parking lot here some time this morning? As you walked out of the door you'd be arrested - as the owner, you're responsible for ensuring your slave does not cause public offence through nudity. You've got a criminal record, remember? So the court might consider you unfit to be a slave owner, and confiscate Jamie...."
"I'll buy a uniform, then. How much?", I demanded.
Jason and Straughan both smiled, and I saw at once how sensible it had been to have Ann accompany me and give me the benefit of her legal experience. "Five thousand", Straughan said.
"That's ridiculous! It's worth five, at the most. It's only a bit of thin cotton... And not much of that."
"Take it or leave it, Steve. The price of an object is not only the value of the materials, you know. Pricing is more about the utility to the buyer, and his need.... And I'd say you needed that uniform at this time."
"Ill come back later", I told him. Then to Ann I said "Come on, let's drive over to the slave shop and buy a pair of slave shorts."
"We're happy to accommodate your slave here for the morning", Straughan said, almost laughing now. "There is of course a kennel fee - say five thousand?"
"That's outrageous! Ann, do something...."
She looked at me. "I'm sorry, Steve, but I can't make them sell a uniform if the don't want to, and they are free to set the price. And as for keeping Jamie here, well, he's your property now and they have a right to ask you to remove your property from their premises, or to levy a storage charge...."
I was so angry, and I was determined not to let those bastards get the better of me. As they all watched in astonishment, I kicked my trainers off, then undid my jeans, pushed them down and stepped out of them. I stood there in my T and briefs - they'd all seen me like this before of course so there was nothing to be ashamed of (although I felt myself colouring a little as I realised that even though my briefs had been spotlessly clean that morning there was now a very faint yellow piss stain on the front - well, it's kind of inevitable, isn't it, however careful you are to empty your dick properly? I guess that's why most guys don't wear white underwear!).
I pushed my briefs down and stood there with the hem of my T touching the top of my dick and resting on my butt at the back - I tried desperately hard not to get an erection, especially as I could see Ann reading the "Steve" tattooed on the front of my dick. "Here", I said, holding out my briefs to Jamie. "Put these on, then we're out of here."
It's funny, isn't it - you can be completely intimate with another guy, sleep with him, jerk him off, fuck him... And yet there's some taboo, almost, about wearing his clothes, especially his underwear? Jamie and I had been naked hundreds of times together, and he and Darren and Mike and me had all been covered in each others cum on occasions, and yet as I handed my briefs to him, Jamie almost refused them. I had not got time for this - I was going to have an erection if I had to stand there much longer, I knew, so I reached out and slapped him lightly on the side of the face: not enough to cause him to fall over, but enough so that the sound of it echoed around the room, and caused Jamie to shout out in surprise and pain. I saw a big mark appear on his cheek, but it worked: he reached out and took them from me and bent down to put them on.
As I bent to pull my own jeans on I was conscious of all their eyes on my ass, and to kind of cover my embarrassment, I snapped at Jamie "You need to remember that you're my slave. I didn't tolerate you young gladiators not obeying me when I was a champion bruiser, and I certainly won't tolerate disobedience from a slave. So unless you learn to do as I say, Jamie, and do it at once, there'll be more punishments like that."
And that was that, really - I strode across the parking lot with Ann, feeling the hard fabric of my jeans rubbing my dick and making me erect, or so I suppose I could say. I'm not sure the sight of Jamie's lovely body walking ahead of us, his name in big bold letters across his shoulders emphasising their width and making his narrow waist even more exciting before his butt flared out, covered by the snowy whiteness of those briefs, didn't have something to do with it.
Ann insisted that Jamie should curl up in the trunk and not ride with us. He glared furiously at her as she announced this, and there was a look almost of hatred as he climbed in and bent his body up: there was plenty of room actually, although he could not of course stretch fully out, and I thought I might have to hit him to make him obey. But we slammed the lid down, and got in to the front ourselves.
"I think that's a bit unnecessary!", I told her, trying not to sound too judgmental. I was thinking of my own very recent release from being a slave, and of how Jamie must now feel lying there in the darkness.
"It's only until we get to the slave accessory shop to buy him some clothes."
"...but he's got my briefs on."
"I know. I explained that to you. But he's not collared, is he? And although there's a dispensation in law to allow gladiators and others doing 'hazardous' activities not to be collared - it would change the sport, wouldn't it, if your opponent could grab your collar and choke you - Jamie's no longer a gladiator. We could explain that we're on the way to get him collared if anyone complained as they saw us driving past - the law allows for some latitude here, as collaring a slave is a specialised business and we wouldn't expect to be able to have it done immediately: it's not like finding something for him to wear, when there'd be no excuses - but why go to all that potential trouble? It's so much easier to have him out of sight, and it's not as if it's all that uncomfortable."
"But it's not right to treat a guy like that, making him curl up in the trunk...."
Ann looked at me calmly as we stopped at a traffic light. "Steve, I think you need to think seriously about Jamie and your relationship with him. Is he a 'guy' or a slave, your slave? I think you incline towards seeing him as a 'guy', a bit like you. Whereas he's actually a slave, and you're his owner. And there's a big difference - you're responsible for him now, Steve, and responsible for ensuring hat the law is obeyed as it relates to the ownership and management of slaves. Think about it - he's got to live in our society as a slave, as that's what he is, and a slave needs a strong, controlling owner if he is to avoid mistakes and consequent punishments. So you owe it to Jamie to treat him properly - and you should start as you mean to continue: it will be easier for Jamie. Think about it: he's spent five years as a slave, and I would imagine that discipline at the school was pretty strict, right?"
"Yes. Both from the staff, like Jason, and from us other gladiators - we knew how the young punks like Jamie needed to behave and we soon taught them."
"So there you are. He's used to living in a controlled way, and now you're about to start giving him some 'freedom' by treating him as more like you, as a free man rather than as a slave. You do that to Luke, you know, and it's confusing him: one minute you're his friend, or his mentor, and the next minute you're hitting him because he's unconsciously infringed some rules that you have but which you haven't fully explained to him, and which you only implement patchily anyway - he never really knows where he is with you. It will be much kinder to Jamie to continue to treat him as a slave - it's what he's used to, and the only real choice for him. I'm not sure you can do it, though..."
"Why not?"
"Because of the male bonding thing, Steve! I can see that you're a lot more attracted to other men than you are to women."
"No, it's not true, I like women, I...."
"Steve, I'm a woman. I can tell. A man who really likes women is always looking at them, following them with his eyes as they come into the room, that sort of thing. You don't do that - in fact, I think you look closely at all the men in those circumstances. So I think that you're one of those men who used to go with women because it was "expected" of them - in the marines, when you were on your free time, I bet you and your buddies went out and picked up local whores?"
"Yes. There you are. I like women."
"...but then you fucked them together?"
"Well, yes, but that was only because we were trying to save money...."
"Stop making excuses, Steve. You and your buddies did it together because you all secretly wanted to see each other in action. You all really wanted to have sex with each other, probably, but watching your buddies hump some whore was the closest you were all prepared to get to admitting it - none of you dared to say it, or to try it. Then as a gladiator - you lived in the school nearly naked with all the other gladiators, right?
"Yes..."
"And you all rationalised that it was OK to share showers, beds, and so on, as that was what the school 'demanded'?"
"Well they did...."
"And none of you ever protested! Come on, Steve - admit it: You're really attracted to other men, and yet you can't admit it. So we have all this charade about 'rescuing' Jamie because of some small favour his father did over five years ago!"
I simply looked at her. I didn't know what to say.
"It's OK, Steve. You're a grown man. You can do what you like, and none of us will think any less of you. But think about what you're doing - it's not fair on Luke - or Jamie - to play this elaborate game. If you want sex with them, then have it: they're your slaves, after all. But anyway, I don't think they'd object even if they were totally free. But hiding your intentions is simply confusing them, and will make them unhappy in the end."
And now I really was astounded.
"There's nothing to be ashamed of, Steve, in being gay. Nothing at all. We're a tolerant society these days - some of our best friends are gay, I work with people who are...."
"But not in the marines, Ann! And not amongst the kind of people I mix with. It's different for you and Jon up there at the top of the ladder."
End Of Part Twenty Eight