RELUCTANT GLADIATOR - Part Thirty Two A story by Pete Brown (petebrownuk @ yahoo.com)
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
We went back to Jon's car and inside Jamie was seething with impatience. "Did you find him?" He demanded as soon as I'd opened the door.
"Yes, but..."
"So where the fuck is he?"
"Jamie, calm down. I've bought him, and they're taking him around to the loading bay at the back. That's the process. But..."
"Shut the fuck up, Steve. Get this show on the road, Jon...."
Jon turned to Jamie and said calmly "Steve may tolerate some rudeness from you as you were gladiators together. But I don't! I wouldn't tolerate it from a kid, let alone from a slave. So you say 'please' when making a request of me. And you need to remember that I'm a free man who can be asked things, not told to do things. You're lucky I don't drive straight to a public punishment place and have you disciplined!"
I thought I ought to try to help Jamie, so I said quietly "Jon, it's just that he's excited - getting Darren back..."
"Let's hope that excitement doesn't turn into something else, then!", Jon told me quietly so that Jamie couldn't hear. He put the car in gear, and we drove around to the back.
As soon as the car stopped Jamie almost threw himself out of the door and went and stood at the bottom of the loading bay. A couple of big nigga slaves were carrying out a small travelling crate, and one of them looked down at Jamie and asked "Are you the slave here to collect a slave called Darren?"
"Yes..."
"Well here he is, then", the nigga retorted, as they both dropped the crate onto the loading bay - it made a big crashing noise as it landed, and clearly it would have been very uncomfortable for anyone inside it. It was apparent that the niggas simply didn't care about the valuable stock they were handling, but I suppose that's what happens when slaves are not properly supervised - there was no sign of an overseer anywhere around.
"You bastard, Steve!", Jamie screamed at me. "You fucking bastard! Having Darren put into a crate like that...."
Jon looked at me. "I think this is going to end badly, Steve. If you don't exert control over Jamie now and discipline him, he's likely to use that sort of behaviour to another free man, one who might not be so tolerant as you are, and to a certain extent as I am.... Then a call to the Slave Police, and Jamie will be in deep, deep trouble."
"Listen, Jamie, it's only temporary...."
"Help me get him out! It's fucking disgusting to have a guy caged like this...."
Jamie hauled himself up onto the loading bay, and even though I was very agitated about what was going to happen next I couldn't help but admire the interplay of the muscles in his shoulders and back as he did so - he certainly was a fine figure of manhood. He ran over to the crate, and then let out a great wail of despair.
I leapt up to be beside him, and said harshly "Calm yourself, Jamie! Look..."
"Fucking hell, Steve! What have they done to Darren? Look at him... Help me get him out of this crate..."
"Jamie, calm down! Calm down right now! Remember your gladiator training - there's nothing to be gained from acting hastily or without planning.... A good gladiator thinks before acting. Now, stop for a moment!"
I saw Jamie trying to get himself under control, but his chest was heaving with emotion and his hands were held loosely at his sides with the fists balled in that classic "prepared to fight" stance.
"Listen 'they' did nothing to him. Darren was put up for sale as he couldn't fight again - you know that's what happens to all the seriously injured gladiators at Philips'. If he'd behaved properly he might have been bought by a guy who wanted a slave with a nice body but who couldn't walk properly - Darren would have been a bargain and would have stood a good chance of finding a buyer. After all, when you're on your knees servicing your owner, you're not parading around, are you, so not being able to walk properly wouldn't have been such a handicap.? But he didn't behave, he was obstreperous, like you - and he started to misbehave so he had to be whipped. That would anyway have reduced his attractiveness to most owners. Then he began to starve himself as it seems he didn't want to live as a slave...."
Jamie seemed to be calming. "I can see that. That's typical of Darren. But let's get him out of this fucking crate...."
"No, Jamie. He's too weak now o walk properly. And, as you can see, he's filthy - covered in excrement and stuff. We can't put him in Jon's car like that: think bout the upholstery..."
"Fuck that! Let's get him out..."
"Jamie, NO. We owe Jon a lot, and we're not going to spoil his car. Darren's been caged up for weeks now, and another thirty minutes isn't going to make a huge difference. Now, help me with the crate: we'll ask Jon to put the back seats down and then there will be room for it in the back....."
The crate was heavier than I expected. Although Darren had reduced himself to skin and bone he was anyway quite a tall guy and I guess it's bones that weight a lot. So by the time we'd managed to get the crate into the car, Jamie and I were both sweating. I envied the way he could casually pull this slave shirt off and use it to wipe under his pits before pulling it back over his head - it wouldn't be dignified for a free man to do that sort of thing in public, of course, so I had to sit there and feel the little rivulets of sweat trickling down my ribs - it's funny how they always feel cold, isn't it?
With one of the seats folded down Luke had to crouch in the back by the side of the crate, and he started to complain about the smell as soon as we set off. Jamie turned around and hit him, quite hard - both Jon and I heard the "slap" as Jamie's open palm hit the side of Luke's face. "Shut the fuck up!", he snapped. "How do you think Darren feels? It's bad enough for him as it is, without having a young punk like you complaining about him...."
It wasn't an easy journey therefore, and I was glad when Jon finally drove into the parking garage under their building. We decided to open the crate then as it wouldn't easily fit into the elevator, and I think all of us were shocked when Jamie reached in to help Darren get out, only to find that Darren was incapable of standing. "We're going to have to carry him", he told us. "Come on, Luke - put his arm around your shoulders and I'll take the other side..."
"No way! He's filthy...."
"Luke's right", Jon added. "We can hardly put Darren in the elevator like that. Suppose it stops, and some other residents get in.... He's filthy.... And the stench.... We need to cover him in some way."
"Strip off, Luke!", I ordered. "Shrug your shirt and shorts off, and Darren can wear those in the elevator."
"And what about me? I'll be naked...."
"You're a slave, Luke. And a young one, at that. There's no harm in you being naked in the elevator. " I looked at Jon and added "In fact, some of your neighbours might envy you when they see you with a slave like Luke in the buff!"
Luke was very, very reluctant, but in addition to my command he had his brother standing there seething with impatience and with his fists balled again, and I reckon he was concerned that Jamie might turn on him at any moment.
It was interesting to see how tender Jamie was as he manoeuvred to get Luke's clothes onto Darren's body - you don't think of tough gladiators like Jamie as being capable of tenderness, but I suppose a gladiator's training teaches your body how important it is to be subtle in your movements whilst at the same time having an underlying strength, and that helps. It wasn't all that difficult as of course slave clothes are relatively loose and designed to slip on and off easily, but Darren really was in such a dreadful state: his arms and legs were so thin, and you could see all the bones of his ribs sticking through his skin.
Clearly he'd been determined to starve himself to death, as no owner would deliberately starve a slave like that, as, after all, even with his injuries there was some value in Darren and an owner would want to capitalise on that. I wondered why his owners had not force fed him - a couple of niggas holding him down, a tube down his throat with a funnel on top, and he could never have got in to that state. Still, perhaps there were so many slaves on the estate where he was supposed to be toiling that they could easily overlook one or two - it's all a matter of economics, after all: they might lose a few slaves like Darren, but they'd make big savings on not having to employ so many overseers.
He was so emaciated that I began to think that there was little hope of him ever recovering the superb musculature he'd had as a gladiator, and, indeed, that he'd even survive at all. I hoped I wasn't going to be in for huge bills from a veterinarian when there was no real hope for Darren's future - I had no insurance for my slaves, and so all those expenses would fall on me and I was almost out of money. I know it sounds terrible to be concerned about such things at times like these, but I couldn't help thinking that I might end up enslaved for debt. (Author's note: this shows how Steve was changing from being a slave with a slave's mentality into having the legitimate concerns that any owner would have, but of course he need not have worried: in our enlightened society any owner who cannot afford his slave's medical costs can go to the NSPCS* to get at least a minimal level of care for the slave. Perhaps Steve did not know this).
When he'd finished, Jamie "helped" Darren to his feet, then ordered his brother to help him get Darren over to the elevator. Luke really didn't want to do this - since I'd ordered him to strip he'd stood there with his hands held loosely in front of his genitals, and now he had to fully expose himself and he didn't seem to like it. It was stupid really - only Jon and I were there, and there's no shame in a slave exposing himself to his owner and a companion of his owner, is there? Indeed, a slave ought never to feel shame at all when doing anything his owner ordered him to do - all responsibility lies with the owner, after all.
When we got to the lobby level in the elevator a couple got in to ride up to their apartment. They clearly didn't like the foul stench from Darren, even though this was somewhat muffled by the slave clothes he now wore, but both of them were showing a high level of interest in Luke's body. He saw them looking at him, and rather engagingly began to blush - I could see his colour darkening as it spread from his face down over his naked shoulders and chest. The woman whispered something to the man, and he in turn said to Jon "If ever you're thinking of selling that young slave, my wife and I would be interested in making an offer for him: he's got a well constructed body, and is nicely hung. I assume he's sexually active....?"
Jon nodded. "Of course. But I doubt that he'll be sold for some years. Thank you for your interest, though...."
"Perhaps you'd consider hiring him out occasionally? We have dinner parties where the guests all bring a slave - male and female, of course - and after dinner they perform to entertain us. That slave would be a nice addition and make for some excitement: to have him perform with an older bitch would be amusing....."
"I'll think about it", Jon said affably, and the conversation was cut short then as the elevator got to their floor and the couple got out.
"Sorry about that, Steve", he said to me. "But I thought that would be the easiest way of moving along, rather than trying to explain that you were the owner, and that you wouldn't hire Luke out. Mind you....", he looked pensively at me for a moment. "It is a thought, isn't it? If you're getting short of cash, hiring out Luke for a few nights...." "No way!", Luke blurted out.
"Steve, you really do need to get your slaves under control", Jon said quietly to me. "First there was all that outburst from Jamie, and now Luke is expressing opinions. You need to remind them that you decide what's going to happen, or not happen...."
"Well I'd be upset at the thought of having to fuck some old bitch to amuse an audience...."
"You have a right to be, Steve. You're a free man. But Luke and Jamie are slaves, and have no right to have any thoughts at all about what their owner orders them to do. Well, they can think it, I suppose, you can't sop that. But you can stop them from expressing their thoughts in public. You're doing them no favours, you know - they might go too far one day, then someone will complain, and they could be severely punished...."
Our conversation was mercifully cut short by the elevator arriving at our floor, and Jamie and Luke "supported" and half carried Darren into the apartment. I didn't know what to do then, but Jon seemed much better at directing stuff like this: he ordered Jamie and Luke to continue on with Darren into our bedroom, and to put him straight into the bath and clean him up. "We need to get rid of the stench", he told me. "And whilst they're doing that, we'll liquidise some slave chow in milk, mix in a couple of raw eggs and a lot of sugar, and then they can feed him with it. We need to be careful not to overtax his digestion considering the state he's in, but we do need to get some nourishment into him very quickly or he looks as if he might die."
"You seem to know a lot about it....", I ventured.
"I did my Military Service during the Civil War, and some of the things we found in the POW camps when we got the Rebs beaten.... Well, you don't want to know. And I do my best to forget. But I do have some experience in these matters", Jon told me. He looked both angry and sad as he did so.
We managed to start to get Darren in to better shape over the next couple of days - Jamie spent a lot of the day time feeding him a spoonful at a time, and he began to look as if he was more of a man and less of a skeleton. It wasn't particularly great for me, though: all four of us were now in the one bedroom, and although it was a large one with two double beds, I now had to have Luke in with me all night every night. Previously he'd slept with his brother unless I wanted a bit of sport with one or other of them (and even then they'd go to the other bed when I'd finished), but now Jamie and Darren were together, and I had Luke all the time. It's not that I mind sleeping with another guy of course, but Luke was a restless sleeper and I didn't like the way his body was always shuffling and thrashing around - I suppose that as I was getting older I wanted more comfort, and after all I think I deserved it: I wasn't in the gladiator barracks now, and at least on paper I was a relatively rich man owning three valuable slaves (actually two valuable ones, and one with a lot of potential). I thought of ordering Luke to sleep on the floor, but when I hinted that his would be a good solution for each of us, both he and Jamie scowled and looked vaguely rebellious, so I let it drop: perhaps Jon was right, though, and I was being altogether too lenient and I ought to be more assertive of my rights as an owner.
I also didn't like Luke for sex all that much - he hadn't had the experience that Jamie had of really pleasing another guy, and didn't have the skill his brother showed in taking me deep down into his throat and really pleasuring me. He was too quick to cum, too, and being so young he shot a huge load, and I was a bit tired of having my body, and particularly my pubes (which I'd allowed to grow a bit, as befits a free man) soaked in his cum when he hadn't properly controlled himself. I enjoyed fucking him, though, so it wasn't wholly bad - like his brother he had a good-shaped ass, nicely muscled, and somehow having his lithe young body pinioned under me as I fucked away was better than having Jamie there: I like to fuck lying on top of the other guy with my thighs holding his down, my arms under his armpits coming up under him so I can pull back on his shoulders to hold him in to me, and my face buried in the nape of his neck. Luke was just that bit smaller than Jamie, and he somehow seemed to fit under me more comfortably. I was used to having other guys around me as I fucked after having lived for so long in the gladiator barracks, and it was of course the norm there for there to be no privacy - but somehow in the domestic setting of Jon and Ann's apartment it felt a bit strange to be fucking Luke when his brother was lying there listening to me. I did wonder if Jamie was comparing my performance with that when I fucked him.
As Darren continued to improve the tension in our bedroom began to grow. It was understandable, I suppose, as Jamie, Luke and me were all fit, virile guys and now we were spending a lot of time cooped up in one place with not much exercise. Jamie did try to do running on the spot, sit-ups, and press-ups, and made Luke do the same, but that's not as good as real hard work for truly exhausting you, is it? We didn't have a lot of space, and although we were welcome in the rest of the apartment, I didn't want to abuse the kindness of Jon and Ann in giving us a home, and they needed their privacy, too.
I began to search the papers for an apartment for the four of us, but the rents were simply too high for me to afford, and when was discussing this with Jon one day he nodded. "You've got a problem, Steve - you've got no regular income, and although you're relatively asset rich owning three desirable slaves, I don't suppose you're going to convert one or other of them into cash, are you?" I shook my head, he smiled, and continued "Although Darren is still not well enough, you could put Jamie and Luke out to work, though - that would generate an income."
"I've looked a that, but the rates they're quoting for labour slaves still don't really cover living expenses for four.... Rents are so high here.... And if we move into the country where rents are lower, so too are labour rates."
"Two things, Steve: Firstly, labouring isn't the only thing that Jamie and Luke could do. A couple of handsome, well-muscled slaves with bodies like theirs could earn you a lot of money if you sold them for sex...."
"No way! I don't want disgusting fat old guys pawing their bodies...."
"It needn't be like that. There are other ways you could make money in the sex trade. For example, exhibitions - a lot of men, and women too I think, would pay to see two slaves like that fucking, especially when they learned they were brothers. And also... you could put them to stud - again, showing how similar the two brothers are would help show owners that there would be a reasonable chance that those features would 'breed true'. And it's not exclusive, either - they could do exhibitions and then stud as well. Or I guess they could labour, and then do exhibitions or stud in the evenings." He looked pensive for a moment and added "But of course if they're going to be used for sex you'd have to take a labouring contract where only a light lash or punishment cane was used as you wouldn't want permanent skin damage or blood, and those contracts pay a lot less as the owners know they won't get as much work out of the slaves."
"No. I don't want Jamie and Luke used for sex...."
Jon laughed now. "Come on, Steve, admit it - what you really mean is that you want Jamie and Luke for your exclusive use. I've heard you, you know - this is a quality apartment with very thick walls, but some nights the noise you make, and the way those boys cry and out as you go at them.... It's not a problem really, yo know - you could carry on fucking them but take part in exhibitions yourself. Then you'd get both the fun and the money.... I reckon the public would pay a lot to see a free man like you in action - it's mostly slaves now, and a free man exhibiting himself would attract a premium...."
"No way! I spent all that time having the public watch me as I fought, and I'm not going back to exhibiting my body...."
"So then you need to look for cheaper rentals."
"I have, and, as I said, it's all too expensive...."
"I think you've been looking at regular apartments, Steve. Did you go to the commercial supplement and look at 'slave housing'? A whole lot of empty factories and cheap office blocks on the outskirts have been converted into basic accommodation for slaves - not as nice as a proper apartment of course, not as convenient a being right here in the centre, but one hell of a lot cheaper...."
I said I hadn't - I hadn't ever realised such things existed - but Jon had called it "slave housing", and I didn't want to be separated from Jamie and Luke and Darren.
Jon explained "Well right at the bottom end the slave housing is really dormitories - forty or fifty slaves in one big room, communal showers, a canteen to dole out the slave chow, stuff like that. I did some work for a company going into that business a year or so ago, working on the contracts for them - they charge a flat fee per slave per week, really convenient for large companies with lots of slaves, but of course there are problems with liabilities, responsibility if a slave falls sick, injuries from fights, all that kind of thing: they needed a skilled commercial lawyer to spell it all out. But a little higher up the scale where an owner simply wants accommodation for his slaves there are individual units - rooms with beds for two to eight slaves, bathroom, basic kitchen facilities where they can re-heat long-life meals... It sounds just what you're looking for."
"But I said I didn't want to be separated...."
"You could live there too, Steve. It wouldn't be as good as this here of course..." Jon made a gesture taking in the apartment as he said this "...but a whole lot better than the gladiator barracks, I'd think. You could be relatively comfortable there - Jamie and Luke could go out to work all day, you could look after Darren as he recovers until he's ready for work...."
He saw me looking interested and continued "And a lot of these sites have a gym, as not all slaves are labourers, and owners of waiters and so on like their slaves to be kept in good condition. I'd imagine that during the day when most slaves are out at work the gym would be relatively under used and there'd be no problem with a free man like you making use of it... Some free men would be embarrassed at using a slave facility, but that shouldn't be so much of a problem for you as, after all, you've got nothing to be ashamed of with a super body like yours...." He smiled again, "...and, after all, you have been used to using slave facilities!"
Well Jon was right of course, and the next day he drove me and we inspected some of the places together. I settled on one that was OK for our needs - one big room with a shower and crapper in one corner and basic kitchen facilities in another, and a couple of beds and a few basic cupboards. We didn't have many possessions, after all, and it's not as if we were body shy about seeing each other in the showers. The prime advantage of the place was that it was near a bus interchange - good for giving me a big choice of where I sent them to work, and for me to get into the city, and, as Jon had said, there was a gym nearby with really low rates. I went in to inspect this, and even spoke to the owner to make sure there was no problem with a free man using it - and, to my amazement, walked out with a part-time job of my own! In addition to using the gym myself, I would work three hours per day on the evening shift "instructing" slaves in exercise techniques, and in keeping them up to the mark with the use of the tawse.
We had to take Jamie and Luke with us when I was looking for a labouring contract for them - it's reasonable, I guess, that an employer would want to inspect what he was getting. Both of them looked a bit rebellious when they had to strip off and have overseers properly inspect their bodies, and I had to snap at them after the first such incident as I thought they were being perfectly unreasonable - they were slaves, they had good bodies, and, even if they did not like the thought of being pawed and prodded, they had a duty to me. I also pointed out that I was only considering contracts for them where the whip was not in use, only the lash and cane, and that they were lucky that I wasn't also going to hire them out for sex shows. In spite of all of that they still didn't seem to be particularly pleased, but at least they made no overt protest at the next inspection.
Within a week I'd said goodbye and many, many thank-yous to Jon and Ann and we were installed in my own establishment. Sure, it wasn't much, and I was living in what was basically slave accommodation, but at least I felt I was independent now. With my income from the gym and the money from the labour contracts on Jamie and Luke, I could afford to pay rent and buy food for us all, and was even able to start saving again.
End Of Part Thirty Two * NSPCS : National Society For The prevention Of Cruelty To Slaves