Reluctant Gladiator

RELUCTANT GLADIATOR - Part Thirty Seven A story by Pete Brown (petebrownuk @ yahoo.com)

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

I decided not to watch the older men that afternoon as they "enjoyed" Jamie, Darren and Luke. I'd admonished my slaves to behave and to do whatever they were asked, and reminded them how important it was to us to get Darren's leg fixed properly - and, after all, what on earth could happen to them anyway? They had already fucked in front of the men, so doing it again could be no worse. And I reminded them that there was no harm in sucking an older man's dick, or allowing themselves to be fondled or "inspected" or whatever - at the School the young gladiators were all used to a greater or lesser extent by the older gladiators, after all, and the only difference here was that the older men would not have anything like such superb bodies!

The warm sunshine and the lovely surroundings at the "cabin" soon got the better of me, and I lay on my belly, my head comfortably cradled in my folded arms, and drifted in and out of sleep. From time to time I could hear cheering and clapping, so I assumed the lads were putting on a good show, and everything seemed somehow right with the world. I think I realised that it would be easy to become seduced into the life of a slave owner: here I was, warm and comfortable, with no need to do anything, whilst my slaves worked away on my behalf. Sure, they were not "working" in the conventional sense, but their efforts and labour this afternoon were producing rewards for me. I began to wonder if it might be possible to take out a loan and buy another slave or two - I was after all already housing and feeding three and taking them off to work on the construction sites every day, and having say five would produce no additional overhead so I could turn a very

reasonable profit. Then I stopped myself! What was I thinking? I'd hated being a slave, and all I'd wanted to do was to get my indenture over so I could be free again. And I wanted the same sort of thing for Jamie, Darren and Luke - it couldn't be the same, of course, as two of them were permanent slaves so no freedom was ever possible, but I could continue to "own" them and they could be "free" in all but name.

My reverie was brought to an end when one of the men who was a guest of the surgeon sat beside me, touched me lightly to get his attention, then asked "What would you take for the slave of yours? The older one, the one who's unspoiled - Jamie, I think he's called."

"He's not for sale!" I tried to sound affable, but maybe my tone was a little harsh as the question had been so unexpected. And, I suppose, I'd never ever considered selling any of the three lads, let alone in circumstances like these. Indeed, it was a bit shocking to think about selling another man at all.

"Oh come, my good sir - he's a slave. You can sell him if you wish. Are we just about to begin a discussion about the price? Everything has it's price..."

"No, I'm sorry, he's not for sale."

"Come, come, sir - a handsome slave like that deserves to be more widely available. Once you've finished with him, and I've used him, he can be passed on to another owner.... You owe it to your fellow men to give more of us the opportunity of enjoying such a fine piece of man flesh. I know he is a very fine property and seems intelligent, but surely you will soon tire even of such perfection? Let's strike a deal whereby I pay you now but take collection in say three months? That will give you time to take your last remaining pleasures from him.... And think, with a good price, you can shop around for another tasty morsel to excite you...."

"NO! I'm sorry, but he's absolutely not for sale...."

The man smiled in a sort of ingratiating way. "I can see you're still a young man yourself, my good sir. But let me give you a piece of advice from one who is a lot older - sooner or later you will begin too tire of the pleasures to be had from any slave, and it will become time to move on. Better to acknowledge this up front before all the joys of a physical dalliance - and even some emotional attraction, I suppose - wear off. Strike a deal now so that there's an end in sight (forgive my pun - but the slave's butt is a perfect delight!), then you can start looking for a replacement, and that will certainly help assuage any lingering regard you might feel for him..... I make it a rule not to keep my pleasure slaves for more than six months before I sell and re-buy, and the trading process itself adds a real excitement on top of the pleasures of the flesh...."

"Look, honestly, he's not for sale. He's never going to be for sale. He's not just a pleasure slave of mine - we go back a long way, and were gladiators together...."

"...so one of the others? The younger brother? I could have the enjoyment of seeing him mature...."

"No, I'm sorry! Luke isn't a full slave anyway - he's a five-year indenture...."

"All the more reason for taking a profit now! The value of those indentures goes down as they near the end of their time, you know. So why not sell him whilst you can?"

"No, I couldn't do that. He's Jamie's brother, and I want to keep them together...." "Well I do envy you, sir! A comely pair of males like those two to serve you, with that extra frisson of excitement from the incest.... Do you fuck them both, or have them fuck each other in front of you?" He paused for a moment, seemingly completely unaware of my rising irritation and anger at being questioned about this. I mean, a free man can ask a slave if he fucks, but you don't go around asking that question of other free men, do you? I really resented being considered as some sort of not-quite free person, just because I'd performed for them earlier. He pressed on, though. "So what about the third one, the one with the bad leg? I'll give you a good price for him, once his leg's right."

"No. We were gladiators together, and we're part of a brotherhood, bound together...."

The man smirked, and I felt like punching him as he added "A brotherhood bound together but liberally lubricated with semen, I think...."

I got up and stalked off, aware that he was probably looking at my naked body and thinking laviscous thoughts of how he would use me. I was so fucking lucky to be free again, and there would never be any possibility of being sold again and passed from one owner to another until they tired of using me. I suppose I'd grown to believe that being a gladiator slave was somehow heroic, but this guy had made me realise that sooner or later, once I was no longer performing well in the arena, I would be sold off. They always talked about the mines, or becoming an agricultural slave in a coffle, but now I saw that the fate of most "retired" gladiators would be to be used as a "pleasure slave" for a succession of old men, until I was past even that.

I began to get angry, and I no longer really cared what the surgeon wanted - and anyway I thought I'd done enough - so I went and found my clothes, still lying there from where he'd had me strip like the others, and pulled on my shorts. I was sweating so much that I decided to keep my polo off, though - somehow it pleased me to think that I'd be showing the hard muscles of a real man to the others at the end of the afternoon, in contrast to their own tired old flabby bodies. Even though I've got absolutely nothing to be ashamed of about my body, it was somehow comforting to be able to choose to lie in the sun with shorts on if I wanted to, and not have someone order me to be totally naked.

There's a limit I suppose, to the amount of sex that men want however exciting it starts out to be, and about half an hour later this limit must have been reached as Jamie, Luke and Darren were standing around me as I woke from another little doze. I tried to look cheerful as I asked "All done, then?"

They looked really glum and just stood there, so I told them to take a final swim to get themselves really clean, and that they could then dress. I got up from my lounger and went and found the surgeon, and told him we were about to leave. I also saw the other guy who had said he would arrange the hospital room, and I got them to agree that we'd take Darren in the following Wednesday for his operation - I didn't want there to be any mistakes, or any backsliding on it, and it seemed to be a good idea for all their friends to hear these arrangements, too, as it would probably make them much more difficult to break.

My three slaves remained unhappy-looking as the men clustered around them - supposedly shaking their hands, but taking the opportunity of a final "touch" with an arm around the lads' shoulders, or a "friendly" caress of their butts. I thought it was wrong of them, actually, to appear not to be happy - a lot of the guys were giving them "tips", tucking bills down the front of their shorts, and the least that Jamie, Darren and Luke could do was to look grateful! It really pissed me off when their sullen resentment continued as we drove back to the city - I tried to make conversation and all I got was monosyllabic "yes" and "no" from all of them. Finally I lost my patience and snapped "You guys need to lighten up! You've had a day out in the country, we've done what we wanted to for Darren...."

"It's OK for you, Steve!", Jamie retorted. "You didn't have to do what we did...."

"You seem to forget that I got fucked, too..."

"Yes, but not like we did...."

I was almost shouting now. "Not like you did? How different can it be? And you forget that I'm a free man, and you're slaves! It's fucking humiliating for a free man to have to strip naked and then get fucked in front of an audience...."

"...and it's not humiliating for a slave, then?", Jamie retorted.

"No, Jamie. Not in the same way. You forget that a slave is owned property - my owned property, in your case. And a slave has to do as his owner commands. And if he's then executing a command, that's his function, that's what he does. There can be no shame for a slave if he's properly following his owner's orders...."

"Well I hated it too, Steve...", Luke added.

"What's to hate? You guys all have sex...."

"But not with a lot of old guys watching. And it's different when I suck your dick, Steve - you're a real man. But one of those guys.... I had to lift his great sagging belly up be able to get my mouth around his dick...."

"Yes", Darren cut in. "And I almost had the breath crushed out of me, as one of the guys who fucked me was so enormously fat....."

I suppose I did begin to feel sympathy for them, and, anyway, I didn't want all this sulleness and arguments all the way back, so I changed my tone and tried to be conciliatory. "Look, guys, so OK it wasn't as good as the sex we usually have. But maybe that's a lesson for the future? We're all going to get old one day...."

"But not fat and flabby!", Luke said.

"...anyway, even if you didn't enjoy it, let's remember why we were doing this, OK? It's so that we get Darren's leg fixed - and I reckon we've achieved our mission: next week we not only have a really good surgeon, but we have a fine hospital, as well...." I turned around briefly so that they could all see me smiling as I added "Look, you can't change the past. What's done is done, so let's put this all behind us. Now I saw some of those guys giving you 'tips', which are of course mine as you're my slaves... But let's celebrate, shall we? We'll stop at a restaurant and I'll use some of it on a steak dinner for all of us."

You'd have thought that would have been the end of it, but I could sense there was still resentment as at the end of the evening all three of them complained that the dinner had not cost as much as the total of their tips, so I was "profiting" from the whole thing (even though they had no right to expect anything, of course, and I was being generous). And Luke even pointed out that as I'd had a beer and a bigger steak than he had, I really "owed" him for taking more than my "fair share". Somehow they just didn't seem to "get" that I was their owner, and it was me who was being generous in letting them have any steak at all - I wondered how they'd feel if, like some owners, I simply fed them slave chow, which would certainly be a lot cheaper!

I'm not the kind of guy who can remain resentful for long, though, and once we'd got home and were all in bed, I curled my arm around Luke and pressed my dick against his ass crack, then let my hand roam down his belly and began to stroke his dick. The physical closeness swept away all the unpleasantness, and he turned around to face me, then rubbed his hard dick up and down around mine, pressing his lips to my nips and sucking them eagerly, which he knows I like. I guess there is something about owning a healthy, strong young slave, and perhaps I'd been thinking too harshly of those old men at the lake!

I'm not going to bore you with all the details of Darren's operation. Everything went like clockwork, though, and the guys at the lake seemed to have followed through as Darren had a really nice room for the two days he was in the place. And what was even better was that the surgeon seemed to be sticking to our agreement, too, in that I did not have to perform any more humiliating sex acts for him at the hospital. I had been expecting him to require me to at least strip so that he could ogle my body before he began the operation, but perhaps seeing Darren naked was enough - I think some of the nurses thought it a bit odd that Darren was made to lie on the operating table totally in the nude instead of being "decently" covered with sterile dressings and so on, but perhaps that's how the surgeon got his kicks. Anyway, who am I to complain about something as trivial as that? It's not as if displaying your body costs you anything after all, especially if

you can be proud of it, as all we were of ours.

Darren had about a week with the leg in an enormous plaster which really cramped his style when it came to sex, as all he and Jamie could do was a lot of mutual masturbation and sucking of each others dicks, but after that he seemed to make a remarkable fast recovery - the hospital had suggested "extensive" physiotherapy which of course we could not afford, but it didn't seem to make all that much difference as he went back to work on the construction sites with the other two and that seemed to do the trick. Perhaps all that physiotherapy stuff is needed if you sit at a desk all day, but Darren was of course doing hard manual labour, which can't have been all that different from what the therapists would have done to him in terms of using all his muscles to the full.

I guess our story could have ended here, as we were all living a pretty comfortable life: Darren and Jamie had each other, I could fuck Luke when ever I wanted, they were all treated pretty well considering they were slaves, and I had a good life I guess: with three of them working I had enough money and was even managing to make some savings. At some point I reckoned I'd be able to afford an apartment rather than living in the run-down place we were, perhaps even somewhere with a pool in the complex. But things are never that simple, are they? I know some of you will be pretty envious of me as I had Luke for sex all the time, and could also use Jamie and Darren if I wanted to - for a guy of my age to have such lusty, virile young guys to fuck must sound like heaven. You're right, of course - take three young guys, work them hard so their bodies are tough and toned, and there can be really spectacular sex; and not just one on one, either: sometimes

on a Saturday night we'd all share one bed and then after I'd had a few beers I could lie there with three dicks to play with and three asses to fuck.

There's a problem, though - sex, even great athletic sex with nice guys, simply isn't enough. Luke and Jamie and Darren were of a different "generation" to me, and it showed in all sorts of ways - I liked my jeans tight to show off my body, and when I let them choose, they all went for baggy ones; we had "arguments" about what to watch on TV and they sulked when I exercised my owner's prerogative and watched a movie rather than some mindless game show; they got a radio from somewhere and wanted it on all the time playing some heavy beat stuff, and so on. Worst of all, I suppose, was that we didn't have a whole lot to talk about after sex, and I began to feel jealous lying there with Luke and listening to Jamie and Darren whispering and laughing together after they'd fucked - and when I let Luke join the other two and I was trying to sleep, hearing the three of them laughing and talking as they explored each others bodies was almost more than I could

bear.

It all came to a head one day when after what had been a great bout of sex for the three of them (I'd let Luke go and "play" with Darren and his brother) I shouted across at them to shut the fuck up and be quiet as I was trying to get to sleep. They carried on laughing and chatting (in hushed tones, admittedly) but you know how irritating that can be, and suddenly I could stand no more of it - I threw off the covers and went over and stood over them and ordered them to lie still and be quiet.

"What the fuck's the matter with you, Steve?", Jamie demanded. "Give us guys a break, will you?"

"He's frustrated, that's what", Darren cut in. "Look at his dick - he needs a good fuck. Is that what the problem is, Steve? You're not getting enough of it...?"

"No, he can't keep up with us young guys, and he's jealous" Jamie continued. "He can't have any fun himself as he tires out too quickly, so he doesn't want us to have any, either...."

I was furious now, especially as none of it was true! I could fuck with the best of them, but for me it was no longer really satisfying - it was just pure mechanical sex with their splendid bodies, and I wanted more. I ordered them to shut up and lie still and told them that if they didn't I was still strong enough to take any of them on and give them a good thrashing. Then I crawled back into my own bed. As I lay there jerking off, I knew what I wanted: I needed a good, strong real man's body to fuck and then to hold.... I missed Mike, and I needed him.

We were all still bad tempered when I sent them off to the site the next morning, and even a good hard workout in the gym did not lift my mood. At lunchtime I called Jon and went to see him that afternoon, and we sat there and talked - it's hard, I know, to talk about these things, but I suppose I had a long relationship with Jon and that somehow made it easier. After I'd said my piece, Jon looked at me and said "Well you've got a problem, Steve, as Mike's a slave and a gladiator. I have to say I haven't seen his name on the game bills recently...."

"Well I guess that after I beat him, he'd have started to go down the bill... Gradually he'd have dropped to the bottom of the lists at Phillips' Fighters.... It happens to all gladiators, even champions like Mike, as there's a constant upward pressure from the younger guys and sooner or later you start to lose to them and you drift downwards in the lists...."

"And what then?"

"Well after a time I guess Phillips' sell you on. They're in the top league, and when a gladiator can no longer meet the standard, they sell you to one of the second-tier arenas.... Unless of course Straughan decides to keep you on as a trainer, but that's rare, and I don't think Straughan would think Mike was 'suitable' for that as he was always a bit of a rebel - well, as much of a rebel as you can be then you're a slave!"

Jon turned to his laptop and keyed a lot of stuff in, then turned back to me. "You're right, Steve. There's a lot of stuff about a 'new champion' at some place called 'The Empire'..."

"Definitely second league...."

More typing, then "But soon Mike seems to have moved to 'The Pit'..."

"Oh no! That's the gladiator's bone yard! They only have the ones who a really past it - no longer a whole lot of skill, just nearly burned-out guys slugging at each other until someone gets hurt and has to stop...."

"...and then nothing, Steve. Nothing at all for the past couple of months."

"That means either that he's been injured really seriously, or maybe that some patron took a real fancy to him and bought him as a personal trainer."

"Is that what happens then at the end of the line?", Jon's tone was solicitous, as he could see that I was worried.

"Well it can.... But there aren't a lot of personal trainers around, so most probably he was injured."

"And then what?"

"It depends on how badly.... If he can't fight, but is otherwise mostly OK, then you get sent to the mines. "

"That's barbaric, Steve! They usually only use criminals down there...."

"You've got to remember, Jon, that a lot of gladiators were criminals. But really it's because people are afraid of them - you've got big, strong fit fighters who know how to use their bodies.... They're not considered safe as 'ordinary' slaves, so the expedient thing to do is to send them down the mines. Once they're safely underground, there's almost no danger of them escaping...."

Jon reached for the phone. "Well there's one way of settling this....." As I watched he looked for a number on his screen, then dialled. He at once adopted his "I'm in authority" tone to whoever was at the other end, insisted that he be connected with a "person of authority", and took it from there. When he put the phone down I already knew the worst from the half of the conversation I' heard: Mike had indeed been sold off, to a mining company in Tennessee.

Jon saw the look of horror on my face. "Come on, Steve - it can't be that bad. I know Mike's a slave, but that means he can be bought and sold...."

"But not from the mines, Jon! Everyone knows that. Once you're down there, that's the end. I'll never see Mike again....."

"Leave it with me, Steve. Us lawyers have a few tricks, you know..... Give me a few days to make some calls, call in a few favours...." He hesitated, and then said "I don't suppose you'd like to spend the rest of the afternoon in bed, would you? Ann's away at a conference....."

I didn't want to. I hate acting like I'm some sort of hired stud as I had been when I'd first met Jon. But he looked so hopeful, and he was offering to help. I smiled as best I could, stood up, and pulled up my T, then dropped my jeans. I allowed him to admire my body for a few moments, then pushed my thumbs in the waist band of my briefs and levered them down, too - in spite of my lack of interest, I'd been well trained as a gladiator as to what to do in front of a "client", and I was gratified to feel my dick snap upwards as it was released from its confinement. Jon couldn't take his eyes off my dick, and I saw the tip of his tongue licking his lips.

"On your knees, then!", I said authoritatively. "I haven't got all afternoon, but I need relief, as you can see, and you look ready to suck a man's cock...."

It's surprising, really, how much satisfaction I got from that simple act. Seeing Jon, a rich, successful corporate guy on his knees in front of me sucking my dick, and not just sucking it gently as a buddy might, but slathering and slobbering over it, then rubbing it all over his cheeks as he pushed his nose into my clipped pubes so his tongue could lick my balls so eagerly.... It was as if he had a desperate hunger for my dick, as if he needed to take it down his throat until he choked and gagged and his bile and slime coated and slicked it. I couldn't resist reaching down and pushing his head right against me, so that I could feel his hands scrabble at my butt as he tried to get free - but the moment I loosened my grip, he went in again of his own accord as if this small exercise of my power was unnecessary.

When I felt my climax approaching I didn't let him swallow it, but instead pulled my dick out from his hot mouth, then shot all over his face. I looked down to see his sweating face covered now in streaks of my cum, then reached down with a finger to guide them into his mouth, and finally allowed him to suck my fingers clean. As his breathing slowed he muttered quietly "Thank you, Steve.... Thank you!", so I guess we were both satisfied.

That night I fucked Luke hard, making him lie on his belly with my body right on top of him. I knew my weight would be oppressive, and I didn't care - I wanted to feel he was totally in my power, and I particularly like the way that as I slid my dick into him he tried to wriggle forwards as if to escape me, except that my hands on his shoulders prevented that. Then I did that long, long, slow fuck when I barely moved my butt up and down as my dick went only a few centimetres in and out of him, but maximising my sensation as I also swayed from side to side so it was as if my dick was "stirring" something in his ass. He cried and moaned, and his passionate response to me triggered the need to push my head down between his neck and shoulders so I could smell his enticing young man's sweat, and then in my passion bite into his skin to "mark" him as mine.

When I'd finished I still lay there on top of him, allowing my dick to soften inside his now moist ass. Then I pulled out and lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, my passion spent. Luke lay beside me, still on his belly, and I suppose I was surprised to see a tear trickle from the corner of his eye.

"Hey, stop that!", I told him. "You're a man now. And men don't cry after sex!"

"You fucking hurt him!", Jamie shouted out. "You've fucked me like that, and it hurts, Steve. And Luke's only a kid, and didn't have the gladiator training in handling pain like we did!"

I suppose I was really upset after hearing about Mike, and so instead of just letting it ride, I was really pissed off. "Mind you own business, Jamie. Shut the fuck up!", I snapped.

"It is my business, Steve. Luke's my brother...."

"I told you to shut up, Jamie. It's not your business - actually, in law, he's no longer your brother. You're both slaves. My slaves. So I'll do what I like...."

"Leave him alone, Steve. Take on someone who's a real man...."

I half sat up, then slapped Luke's butt, hard, very hard. "You want to cry, Luke.... Well, here's something to help you do it."

The next instant Jamie had hurled himself out of bed and on to me. I was taken by surprise, and initially he got the upper hand - we rolled off the bed and began to wrestle on the floor just as if we were two gladiators in the arena. It was hopeless, of course, there was no way one of the middle-range "wrestlers" like Jamie could hope to defeat a Champion like me, and I soon bested him and sat astride him with my knees pinioning his shoulders to the ground and my dick dangling over his face. I told him to open wide as I needed to piss, then, to my amazement, Darren put his arm around my neck and began to choke me!

I ought to have been able to defeat both of them, but I suppose I was getting slower and I was out of training, and all their work on the construction site had kept them in peak condition. It took a long time, but eventually they had me immobile on the bed, my wrists tied to the headboard with pieces of clothing. Jamie knelt across my thighs, gripping my balls. He squeezed as he stared at me, then squeezed harder, still waiting for a reaction. I was determined not to show any of the pain I was feeling, until Jamie squeezed my balls right down to the end of my sac and then slapped them with his other hand!

I screamed then, and Jamie thrust his face into mine. "You fucking hurt Luke, Steve. You don't like it very much when a guy hurts you, do you?"

"You bastard! You'll suffer for this... As soon as you let me free I'll beat the shit out of you.... Or perhaps I'll send you for a public flogging - that's the least a slave who attacks his owner can expect...."

"Shut it, Steve! We're all sick of you doing this 'slave owner' thing! Darren and me and you were gladiators together, not owner and slaves.... So we reckon it's time you learned to act like a gladiator again - you've been so fucking miserable these last few weeks, always complaining and criticising, never laughing or joking, and now treating Luke like that..."

"Shut the fuck up, and let me go right now! Perhaps I'll let you off with just a thrashing from my belt...."

"No, Steve, Jamie's right!" Darren cut in. "We were all gladiators together, and gladiators have a code. And you've been abusing it: you treat Jamie and me just like slaves, making us work for you, even taking our money we earned in tips, and then not feeding us well...."

"All three of you should remember that you are slaves. MY slaves... And I'll treat you how I want...."

"...and we're gladiators, and we'll treat a gladiator who lost a fight as we want!", Jamie retorted.

As I struggled and writhed, Jamie sat on my belly to hold me down, as Darren grabbed first one leg and then the other, and pulled them up and apart. "OK, Luke - now it's your turn", he said determinedly.

I'm not sure Luke wanted to fuck me, but he didn't want to be seen to be less of a man by his brother and Darren, and as I protested as I felt the tip of his dick pushing at my asshole, Jamie leaned forward and casually stuffed a sock in my mouth "To shut the disgusting noise" I was making.

It didn't take Luke all that long to climax, nor Darren, for that matter, who followed him up my ass - probably because of the sheer physical force he used to slam in and out of me. Jamie took a lot longer, but he was much more inventive - he pushed my feet almost to my shoulders so he could bury himself as deep in my ass as possible, then seemed to be staring into my eyes as he looked for signs of my anger or pain as he fucked away.

When they'd finished, Jamie took the sock out of my mouth.

"You can't keep me tied up like this for long....", I said, trying to sound certain of it, but attempting to keep a sound of threat out of my voice.

"Couldn't we, Steve?" Jamie asked. "Most people around here think there are just three slaves in this crummy slave quarters kind of place. If we wanted to, I reckon we could keep you tied up like this for weeks, using you as a fuck toy. And who else knows about us? Jon and Ann, I suppose, but you don't see them all that often. I reckon you could 'disappear' for quite a time before anyone came looking for you...."

"You're a fucking slave, Jamie! Without an owner, how long do you think you'd last? If the Slave Police stop you, who are you going to say your owner is? You'll be thought to be a runaway...."

"...or someone who killed his owner", Darren added.

End Of Part Thirty Seven