Reluctant Gladiator

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

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

Gradually my training became more and more specific - instead of just exercising I was now doing more real fighting. There were basically three "styles" we were taught: pure wrestling, rather like you see college guys doing in kind of Graeco-Roman style - this was mainly for the young guys as, it was explained to us, no one was likely to want to hire a big strong gladiator only to see them roll around on the floor - blood was what was needed, and wrestling didn't produce that. Then there was boxing - the classic kind, except, of course, without gloves - and without any protection like cups in a jock - we did it in only the standard gladiator uniform, and that made you very wary about low blows - well, actually, low blows were allowed, as that was another difference between what we did and the normal "professional" boxing: you could hit anywhere on the body. Boxing did seem to produce a lot of blood as a blow to your face could set your nose off - and, anyway, there could be raw knuckles that bled. And finally there was the most violent form of all - "anything goes": a mixture of wrestling, boxing, and those other things like kick boxing and Thai boxing - any part of your opponent's body was a target, and you could use any part of your own body to attack.

Of course whilst we were practising some moderation was expected, as Philips' Fighters did not want their men totally destroyed until they were in front of the paying public. So we were expected to pull our punches, and not actually break the limbs if we had a vicious lock on an opponent - and your opponent was expected to surrender (something that was absolutely not allowed in the arena itself, I was to learn, where you fought on until you were incapable of continuing). But Mike warned me to be careful about all of this "You see, Steve, if you pull your punches in training, your body learns the wrong reflexes so that when you're actually in the arena you don't hit the guy as hard as you could, so he has more life in him to hit you... So watch it! Of course you don't want to really hurt one of the other guys here, but you have to take the long view: is it better to hurt someone else, or to get hurt yourself?"

"So you'd hurt me, maybe even injure me permanently?"

"Well I suppose so, Steve. Not that it will come to that, as I'm the champion, remember, and you're still very much a novice.... And Straughan is careful to match training opponents with similar abilities. If we were to fight now, it would be no contest."

We were in our room, just about to go to bed, and I must say I was a bit pissed off by Mike saying this - it sounded fucking arrogant! So I punched him on the shoulder, playfully, not hard. "Put your money where your mouth is, Mike! I do know something about fighting, you know."

"Steve, I've told you, it would be no contest. All you guys who come here from the services think you know about fighting because you've done the unarmed combat course in your training - but let me tell you, you know nothing! Gladiator fighting isn't like that - it needs a different skill, one where you go all out to injure the other guy...."

"Cluck... Cluck... Cluck....", I said even more playfully. "You're not chickening out, are you? Come on - let me show you how we do it in the marines."

"Steve, stop fucking around, will you? It would be no contest. And if I were to injure you, Straughan would have me whipped: we're not allowed to fight each other, except in supervised practice fights. Think about it - with all the testosterone swilling around in here, it's easy to spark off a fight that could quickly get out of control. So there's an absolute ban."

"So wrestle me, then - no fists. Just wrestle, like the young guys do. No marks left on the body...."

"Steve, no. If big guys like us wrestle, I could easily break your arm or something. Now, shut the fuck up, and let's get to sleep.

"Mike, I think you're scared. Of Straughan, if not of me...."

"You've not experienced Straughan's punishments properly yet, Steve. And if you had, you'd be scared, too."

"I don't mind a bit of pain...."

"Oh shut the fuck up - you don't know what you're talking about."

"What I'm talking about is a so-called champion who won't have a friendly wrestle with a buddy, because he's scared...."

Mike glared at me. "OK, Steve, you asked for it, remember that! But only one "fall", OK? And no screaming.... we don't want to attract the guards".

We faced up to each other, kicking the mattresses to one side. And to my astonishment, before it had really begun, it was over - Mike had my arm twisted up behind my back, with me helpless on my belly on the floor with him on top of me. I could feel his hot sweaty skin pressed against mine. "OK, Steve..... See what I mean? You know jack shit yet about wrestling, let alone no-holds fighting. Now, say 'Sorry, Mike, for doubting your knowledge and wisdom'."

"Fuck you...."

I did scream then as Mike nudged my arm just a little higher up my back. He pushed my face down into one of the mattresses, effectively stifling my voice. "Steve, say 'Sorry, Mike....' - I don't want to have to hurt you any more, but we have to get it understood who's in charge here."

I could feel Mike's body all along me now, and I managed to splutter out "You were lucky...."

"OK, Steve, that's it!". Mike sounded genuinely angry now. "You think you know everything, and even when you've been proved wrong, you won't admit it. I've got to do this, Steve, for your own good - if you don't learn to respect other gladiators' opinions, you'll get seriously hurt and I don't want that, as you're a nice guy. Now, one last chance... Say you're sorry...."

"Fuck you!"

"I ought to break your arm, you know that, don't you? But then we'd both be punished for fighting. And I'd be punished worst for letting it get to that point - Straughan knows I'm experienced, and he'd reckon I ought to have been able to control you - as I can, as you can see. So I can't do that. So what can I do, to make you realise that you need to take care and listen when a more experienced guy tries to help you?"

Mike's voice had been changing as he aid this, and it was almost as if he was laughing towards the end. Suddenly I felt my uniform moving - Mike was pulling it down, exposing my ass!

"What the fuck....?" I stopped, assuming he was going to do something really humiliating, like we did to new recruits in the marines - spank my bare ass.

But before I could continue Mike added "Yes, Steve. 'Fuck' is the right word. Now I've got you pinned under me, do you know how easy it would be for me to fuck that ass of yours? I reckon a good hard ramming of my dick up your ass would give you something that you'd remember for a long, long time."

"Pervert...."

I winced as Mike slapped at my bare butt. You've got to remember that Mike's a powerful guy, and one of his big hands, placed well, can cause a lot of pain.

"Now, Steve... One last chance. Say 'Please, Mike, please don't fuck me....'."

"You wouldn't dare...."

"Oh no? And why not, Steve? I haven't had a bitch for a couple of nights, and I'm really horny. And it leaves no permanent damage... So even if you did complain to Straughan, he wouldn't care - your ability to fight wouldn't be affected, and he'd probably think that you needed a lesson. Now... Say it."

Look, I'm stupid, I know. I mean where's the harm in saying you're sorry, in admitting that you're wrong, especially when you are - Mike had so totally overpowered me so very quickly, as he'd said he could. But there's something inside a man, isn't there, something that stops them from doing the simple, obvious things if it also means looking weak? There was no way that I could do it. So I said nothing.

The next moment I felt something forcing my butt cheeks apart. I thought at first it must be Mike's fingers - but then I realised it was his dick! "NO!", I shouted, and Mike threw his body along mine to hold his dick in place whilst he used his free hand to once again push my face down into the mattress.

"So you don't want to play, Steve? Why not? Don't you marines enjoy a bit of fun and games with each other in the barracks...? There's no harm in taking a guy's dick in your ass, you know. Now, if you ask me politely, I'll go easy on you - slide it in very gently, and then not really pound you as I fuck.... All you have to do is ask me, Steve. Just say 'Please, Mike, fuck me gently'."

"Mike, please... No... Don't do this. I thought we were buddies...."

Mike pushed his head against mine, and I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. "We are buddies, Steve. That's the point I was trying to make. And as your buddy I was trying to look out for you, trying to get you to see that you need to learn a whole lot more here at Philips'. But no, Steve thinks he knows best... So as your buddy, Steve, I've got to teach you a lesson you won't forget, for your own good...."

"Please, no... Not that. Please don't fuck me, Mike. I agree - you were right. I do need a whole lot more training."

"Too late, Steve. I'm all horned up now. Can't you feel m dick, pushing down your butt crack? I reckon I need a bit of sex - I'm tired of jerking myself off. So just lie there calmly and I'll be gentle on you...."

"Mike, no, please...."

Mike pushed his tongue into my ear as I lay there under him. It felt all hot and wet, and kind of sensual. I do this to bitches sometimes, and once I realised that this is how Mike was treating me, I cried out.

"See, Steve - feel my tongue in your ear? That's how my dick is going to feel in your ass... Although it might hurt a bit, it being your first time. You are a virgin aren't you, Steve? None of your marine buddies has fucked you?"

"Of course not..."

"I tell you what, Steve - I'll be lenient this time, as you are my buddy and Straughan did ask me to look after you. So I won't fuck you - this time. But, as you can feel, I am pretty excited now, and I don't feel like jerking off - it would be a big let down after I've got ready for fucking. So if you give me your word that you'll do it, I'll let you up and you can blow me."

"No way!"

"Your choice then, Steve, old buddy... I'll fuck you then..."

"No... Wait..."

"Last chance, Steve - can't you feel how excited I am? Now, do you want me to fuck you, or are you going to blow me?"

I was utterly powerless, I knew that. And I didn't doubt that Mike would do as he'd said - he was that type of guy - he never made idle threats. What choice did I have? So as calmly as I could, I muttered "OK, then.... I'll blow you."

I felt the pressure on me easing a bit as Mike shifted his weight off me a bit. His dick slid out of my butt crack. "You're sure about this, Steve? I've got your word? You'll blow me, blow me properly?"

I thought about it. For a moment. I mean, taking another guy's dick into your mouth - it's gross! But Mike sensed my hesitation and shifted his weight again - I could feel our sweaty bodies sliding over each other, and Mike's dick nestling against my ass crack again. What the fuck could I do? So I muttered "Yes."

"Let's hear it louder, Steve. I don't want there to be any doubts about this. Tell me you want to take my dick into your mouth and blow me, give me a really good time."

I gritted my teeth. I was trapped, and I knew it. And they teach you in the marines that when there's seemingly no way out, you should try to preserve yourself as much as possible to take advantage of any opportunities that may present themselves later. So I said, as firmly as I could, although I think I could detect a kind of trembling note in my voice "Yes. Yes, Mike. I'll blow you..."

He let go of my arm, and leapt to his feet - Mike's really agile for a big tall guy like him. I could see his thick dick waving around, as he was solidly hard. He bent over and offered a hand, to pull me to my feet, and I stood there in front of him, rubbing my wrist and arm.

"Sorry about that, Steve. But I wanted to hurt you a bit to drive the lesson home - if I'd been in the arena I wouldn't have stopped and that arm would be dangling uselessly in front of you now, snapped in half. And the fight would be over, of course. You have to learn to go for the quick victory, as otherwise, at the highest level, there's too much chance of your opponent exploiting a chance opportunity.

"Spare me the lesson."

"Did anyone ever tell you, Steve, that you can be a miserable fucker sometimes? Here I am, trying to help you." Mike smiled, and stroked his dick suggestively. "Anyway, I'm not going to spare you a lesson, as you put it, am I? You're going to learn about cock sucking. Are you sure you haven't done it before?"

"Of course not!"

"But you have had your dick sucked, haven't you?"

"Hasn't everyone?"

Mike smiled again. "Ah, so some of your marine buddies liked a it of a change from jerking off, did they?"

"No! But, you know, sometimes, when you have a bitch...."

"So you know what's expected, then? I want to feel your lips sliding up and down my shaft. And I want your tongue teasing my piss slit, and licking away at my sensitive spot, and..."

"Spare me the details!".

Mike threw himself down onto his mattress, propped his head up on one arm so he was looking down his body, and stroked his dick with his other hand to make it even harder. "Come on then, Steve! Down on your knees and get started. I'll be easy on you and lie here, as I reckon you'd rather do that than kneel in front of me as I stand up. Anyway, thinking about it, I'd rather lie down..."

I knelt there on the floor, and looked at Mike's dick sticking up in front of me. I leaned over, moving my mouth down... And just knew I couldn't do it.

"Come on, Steve...."

"Mike, please, I can't..."

"Sure you can. What's the problem? "

"The problem? It's having to suck a dick... I can't, Mike. Please....."

Mike sat up, and I saw is belly muscles ripple as he did so effortlessly. He put one hand behind my neck as if to reassure me, or control me, and stared into my eyes as his other hand advanced towards my face. I saw he had his thumb sticking out."

"Right, Steve.... Let's get you started easily. Now take my thumb - it's not as big as my dick, but it will do. I want you to wrap your lips around it, and slide up and down on it...."

I reached out and gripped Mike's hand with mine, as if it would somehow give me a bit more control. I bent over his thumb, and took it in my mouth. Mike's skin was hot between my lips, and he tasted salty from the sweat. I bobbed up and down, experimentally, and, I suppose, apart from the utter humiliation of it, it wasn't all that bad.

"OK, Steve.... Now the real thing...." Mike lay back again, smiling, and kind of stroking his dick lightly. I leaned over it again, but somehow I still couldn't do the deed. I just couldn't.

Get a move on, Steve! Come on, buddy.... It's not so bad...."

"No, Mike. I can't do it. I'm not going to do it. You can break my arm, or whatever, but I'm not going to take your dick into my mouth"

Mike lay there, looking down the length of his muscled body at me as I knelt beside him. "I never put you down for a cheat, Steve. And a coward..."

My anger blazed, and seeing this, Mike went on "Yes, Steve - that's what the other guys will call you - a cheat, because you agreed to do it in exchange for me not fucking you. And now you're breaking the agreement. And a coward, too.... A real man wouldn't have any problem with doing it."

"You wouldn't tell the other guys.....?"

"Sure I would! We're a tight community here at Philips'. We look out for each other. And if there's a bad apple in the barrel, they have a right to know."

"Please, Mike... Don't make me do it....."

"Sorry, Steve, but you've got to. Not only so that you learn to listen to me, but because you'd hate yourself if you chicken out of it. Sure, you'd be OK now, at this moment... But tomorrow, when you realise that you've not got the balls to carry through with things you said you'd do, you'll hate yourself. And lose confidence in yourself. And without confidence, a fighter can't function properly." He paused, stared at me, and went on, more slowly, and in a lower tone, one almost gentle. "So come on, Steve. You know you've got to do it - not for me, but for yourself, really, isn't it?"

Fucking hell! I knew he was right. I bent my head down again, and pressed my lips against his dick head. And, actually, it didn't feel all that different from his thumb! And once I'd made that initial move, it seemed easy to open my mouth a bit and slide my lips up and down his shaft. And I bobbed away five or six times, and it wasn't so bad after all - it's like so many things, I guess - the anticipation is actually worse than the actual execution of the deed.

I stopped and straightened up, and there was this huge feeling of relief flooding through me. I could almost feel the frown and worry lines dropping away from my face. I looked at Mike, who had one of those smiles he often had on his face.

"Do you call that a blow job? What would you say if some bitch got you excited, and then stopped?"

"I'd be pretty pissed off, I guess....."

"Yes, Steve. Quite so. So get back to work......"

I knew he was right, and I had to do more. So I started again, and it wasn't so bad this time. Then I got a bit more adventurous - running my tongue up and down his shaft, and flicking it at the little triangle of skin under his dick head. I actually felt kind of pleased as Mike moaned when I did this! My dad always used to say "If a job's worth doing, it's worth doing well", and I was glad Mike seemed to be approving of my efforts.

I popped my lips around his dick again and now felt Mike's hand on the top of my head. He was pushing me down, gently, signalling I suppose that he wanted more of his shaft in my mouth. I tried, really I did, but there's a limit - and when Mike's dick head touched the back of my throat, I started to gag and had to pull right off, and I knelt there, gasping and choking.

"You need a bit more practice, Steve. We'll have to work on that gag reflex of yours...."

I looked at him, and wondered if he was joking. But he seemed to be serious, so I managed to say "No you won't. This is the first and only time...."

"We'll see about that! Now, back to work."

To my horror I saw a bead of pre-cum oozing out of Mike's piss slit as I bent over his dick, and I went to pull away but Mike's hand was on my head and he pushed me down. Apart from the revulsion I felt, it actually wasn't so bad - just a touch of "something" on top of Mike's sweat.

I worked away, and Mike started to moan and groan, so I reckoned I was going OK. But then I felt something in my mouth, something sweet, sour, slimy... Oh fuck, I knew Mike was cumming! I pulled right off him, and the remainder of his cum shot along his belly in a thick, white viscous streak. I knelt there, licking my lips and rubbing my hand over my mouth as if that empty gesture would in some way take way the taste of his cum.

"Bastard!", I was almost shouting as I was so angry. "Why didn't you tell me you were about to cum?"

Mike had that stupid smile on his face still. "Aw, come on, Steve, I was enjoying it too much. You know, I reckon having a big strong guy like you blowing me is better than a bitch - I was watching all your muscles work away as you bobbed up and down."

"But you started to cum in my mouth!"

"So? I bet you've shot your load into the mouth of a bitch or two, haven't you? And there's nothing to worry about, you know - it's not poisonous or anything! And haven't you ever tried eating your own cum - most guys do, when they're growing up."

Well he was right, of course. I had shot not only into the mouth, but deep down the throat, of a few bitches. And I had tried my cum when I was a kid. And, although I wasn't going to tell Mike this, sometimes, in the barracks, especially if we were away on a course or something and the bunk I was using wasn't my own, I did it when I had jerked off as I didn't want to have those hard patches on the sheets the next morning.

"But it was your cum, Mike..."

"So? Guys aren't all that different, Steve. My cum's just like yours. And what's a bit of cum, between buddies?"

As he said this, Mike grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand down onto the slick of cum on his belly. I was at some sort of mechanical disadvantage, kneeling there, as I couldn't stop him using my hand to smear the cum up from his belly and onto his pecs! I felt his tits go hard and spiky as the palm of my hand scraped over them, and somehow it seemed to be very exciting that I could have such an effect on another guy's body, even though I didn't want to. My nose was assailed by that special smell of cum as it spread over his hot skin and mingled with his sweat.

"Bastard....", I said.

Mike just smiled at me. "You know, Steve, I think you're protesting just a bit too much. Your body's letting you down, buddy...."

I saw Mike's eyes look down, and realised that my own dick was ramrod hard as I knelt there, and there was a drool of pre-cum hanging down from it.

Well, I had to jerk off before I could get to sleep, and it was almost as if I no longer cared if Mike knew I was doing it as I allowed myself the luxury of some loud groans as I shot. And the following morning Mike didn't say anything - it was as if the whole thing had never happened - but of course I knew it had.

By the time it came for dinner that night it was almost as if the whole incident had been some sort of bad dream, and I was able to laugh and joke with Mike and the other guys as we sat companionably close together at the dinner table.

I think I've told you about the big nigga Shaikal who had been champion before Mike, and how he and his two nigga buddies seemed to have some sort of chip on their shoulder - they never wanted to really interact with the rest of us and kept themselves very much to themselves - they tended to sit at the same table as us at breakfast and dinner, but that was about all. A lot of the other guys - and in particular the young guys - seemed to be almost afraid of them and hurried past them in the corridors and so on. I suppose it wasn't an issue really, as the training schedule at Philips' Fighters was constructed so that you trained with similar guys - the young wrestlers together, and the big "anything goes" people like Mike me and the niggas, on a different schedule.

We were finishing dinner that night when the doors opened and the guards brought in a new kid - another young wrestler. There was something very familiar about him as he stood there, nervously looking around at the room full of nearly-naked men, and the hubbub of the noise of eating and of conversation stopped. One of the young wrestlers went over to him - much as Mike had come to me on my first day - and led him over to join their table. I didn't think much of it, until, as we were finishing and leaving, there was a lot of angry shouting.

There, almost out of the door, was Shaikal, half carrying half dragging, the new kid out with him.

"What's going on?", I asked Mike.

"Leave it, Steve."

"Mike... What's happening?"

"It's kind of a tradition - the new kids get broken in by us. Well, by the champion."

"But you're the champion."

Mike looked at me. "Yes, and I don't do stuff like that. But Shaikal always did, and he's carried on."

"Broken in...?"

"Oh well, fucked, if you want to give it it's real name. It's the tradition that the champion fucks - or did fuck - the new kids."

"That's not right! Stop them, Mike."

"Calm down, Steve. It's perfectly OK, as all the kids are over sixteen - they have to be, to have been enslaved. And although it hurts a bit at first, they soon get over it."

"No it's not OK! Raping a young guy...." As I said this, I jumped to my feet, and roared "Leave that kid alone!"

The whole room went deathly quiet, and Shaikal turned, saw it was me, and sneered "Sit down, new boy, before I decide to come and break you in, too."

"I said let him go!" I was really angry now, and I knew I sounded it.

Shaikal turned to go, gripping the kid's arm and starting to drag him along. I thrust the bench away from the table, and bounded over towards the door, and grabbed hold of Shaikal.

In retrospect, it was a mistake. Shaikal had been champion, and was a seasoned, experienced fighter. And I was still a novice. And as I touched him, Shaikal's reflexes cut in and he struck out at me - and I hit back at him. Within a second or so we were rolling around on the floor, trying to get an advantage so as to be able to hit, hurt, and maim each other. He had the benefit of experience, but I was younger and fitter. I was aware that the whole room - all the fighters - had erupted into action and were forming a circle around us as we fought, shouting and cheering us on.

I don't know where the guards had been - there was usually at least one in the mess room - but the noise soon brought them in, and the next moment I was really screaming as their slave prods stabbed into me.

After I'd recovered - and had showered, as they'd used the prods at maximum on Shaikal and me and our bowels had lost control - we were hauled into Straughan's office. He sat there, looking really angry, and the young wrestler was there, too. Now I saw why he seemed familiar - it was one of the kids who'd been caned at the same time as me, the one who'd helped me get my jeans on when I had been I such agony.

Straughan shouted and screamed at Shaikal and me for a couple of minutes, then calmed down a bit and asked why I had attacked Shaikal. "He was taking the new kid, the one you have there, sir... And I was told he was going to rape him...."

"Mr Straughan, sir", Shaikal cut in, in a whining, subservient kind f ay, far removed from the angry way I was speaking. "There weren't no harm in it. The boy there is new, and it's tradition.... It's not rape. T's showing the kid how a fighter lives. That mad man attacked me, totally unprovoked...."

"It fucking well is rape! He wasn't agreeing to what you were doing...." I shouted, really angry now.

Straughan banged his hand on the desk. "I am not concerned with that! You made an unprovoked attach on another fighter, and for that, you'll have to be punished."

"But that's unfair... The nigga was going to rape the young kid... I don't go around attacking people...."

Straughan leaned forward across his desk, and stared at me directly in the eyes. "The last fighter who attacked one of his fellows here was castrated. Didn't Mike tell you that it's absolutely forbidden to attack your fellows, and that the most severe punishment is handed out? If he didn't tell you, I will need to punish him, as I told him to take care of you, and that includes making sure you know the rules by which we operate."

I didn't want to get Mike into trouble too, so I muttered "Sir, yes, Mike did tell me."

"And did you remember that, before you attacked Shaikal?"

"I suppose so, sir. But I was so angry that the thought of the kid being raped, raped by that fucking big nigga...."

Straughan looked at me. "I am somewhat in a dilemma now. You attacked Shaikal, knowing that the penalty was potentially castration. And you attacked him knowing that there was no chance of success - I gather Mike taught you a lesson about how a novice has no chance against an experienced fighter. And yet you did it..."

"Yes, sir. A man's got to do what's right..."

"You're brave, I'll say that for you. Brave, and perhaps stupid. But I'm not sure I want to waste all that bravery and fire by having you castrated - I think you have the potential for being a real star in the arena , and taking your balls would mean throwing away thousands in profit.... But you do need to be punished. Severely punished, as I need to maintain discipline here, and I can't have your fellows believing that serious offences can be overlooked."

He was obviously musing out loud, as he went on "I could have you whipped, with the bull whip. But then that would tear up your hide. And although fighters with lasting whip scars do go in the arena, they never really get a popular following, and the opportunities for selling pictures of them to the fans are limited - more loss. And no woman is going to hire you for a little additional activity if you carry the marks of proven disobedience around with you.. I suppose an ordinary whipping, or an extended session with the punishment cane would be an option..... But then, I'd be seen as weak by the other fighters....."

He looked at me, obviously having made his mind up, and said firmly "So I am not going to order your castration. Or a bull whipping. But you will spend tomorrow on the bar."

"What...?"

"Silence! Haven't you learned yet that a slave speaks only when spoken to? Now, get out, before I change my mind.

I was taken back to our room, and Mike seemed surprised to see me. "I thought they'd have you chained down, sort of on 'suicide watch', as you'd be for the castrator's tongs tomorrow...." he smiled. "So, anticipating I was going to be here all alone this evening, I ordered a bitch! So well done, Steve, for escaping punishment - I'll share her with you as usual, and we can celebrate together...."

At that moment we heard the door being unlocked, and Mike rubbed at his dick through the thin cotton of his uniform, in anticipation of the entry of the bitch. But the guards threw in - almost literally - the young kid I'd been defending, and the door was locked and closed behind him.

"What the fuck...?" Mike began.

"That Straughan said I was to share with you two", the kid said. "After you'd left, Steve, he said that as you'd taken so much trouble to protect my ass, it would be a pity if the nigga got it anyway. So I'm to bunk in here, apparently."

"But you aren't a slave...", I began.

"You mean I wasn't, when we were caned. But those bastard cops had it in for me. Once they've got you in their sights, it's real hard to avoid them. And they almost followed me around, until they caught me with a can of beer as I was fucking my girlfriend. So it was underage alcohol, and lewdness in a public place.... That, and the caning, was that - the 'three strikes and you're a slave' rule."

I saw Mike nodding, and he held out his hand "So I'm Mike, I'm the champion, as Steve hasn't introduced us."

The kid did the same "Jamie, sir."

Mike pumped his hand up and down. "Hey, kid, no ceremony her. We're all fighters together at Philips'. So no 'sir' - I'm Mike, just plain Mike."

"But if you were enslaved", I cut in, "Why didn't your dad buy you? He could have sold that fancy truck of his...."

Jamie looked at me as if I was an idiot. "It's not the money! Relatives are not allowed to buy slaves. If dad could have, he would have. And he even tried to get some of his workers to do it, but they wouldn't as if they'd been found out helping to break the 'no fraternisation' provisions of the slaver act, they'd have been enslaved, too. And you can't even bribe a senator or anyone - and I guess dad would have tried. The rules are the rules when it comes to slavery, as everyone needs to know that if you're guilty you're enslaved, with no chance of avoiding it. And the penalties for breaking the rules are enslavement, so no-one wants to even try."

Mike looked around the room and said Well, you're here now, anyway. And we haven't got a lot of space, as you can see.... I guess we need to turn the mattresses at ninety degrees, so they run across the floor and push them together, then all three of us can sleep in a row - it will be tight, but, what the hell, we're all guys together. The floor's concrete and pretty hard if you had to sleep on it between our mattresses...."

We all looked, and I could see what Mike meant. It would be hard to avoid us touching each other as there would be so little space. But as we were thinking about it the sounds of the door being unlocked came to us - and the next moment the guards came in, leading a bitch. They were smirking all over their silly faces.

"So, Mike, are you going to put on a display for these two guys?", one asked. "...teach the kid how it's done?"

"Fuck off!", Mike retorted. "Not that it's any of your business, as I've bought an hour of this bitch's time with my winnings, and what I do with that hour is up to me. But let me tell you that us fighters are not like you guards, always looking out for yourselves. No, with fighters, it's sharing: all for one, one for ll. And, in any case, he's not a 'kid', he's a fighter. And from what he's already said, he doesn't need to learn how to fuck, as he's very experienced. Unlike you two, who look as if you've never screwed any half-way decent bitch...."

I reckon Mike was lucky not to get a touch of the slave prod. But he was the champion. And most of the guards knew that he did stick up for the other fighters. So they left, locking the door, and leaving the three of us and the bitch in the tiny cramped space.

End Of Part Eight