Date: Tue, 3 Aug 2010 06:49:19 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Reluctant Gladiator, Part Eighteen

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

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

"Right then - over on to the bed" he ordered.

"Fuck you..." I responded, but Jason just smiled that evil smile again.

"So you're going to resist, are you, Steve?  That will only add to the
excitement.... Now, do as I say...."

I stood there, and Jason tried to push me, but even though he was only
recently in the marines, you need to remember that my body was tough and
strong from daily training, and training designed to help me make the most
of my body to resist and fight.  So I barged at him with my shoulder, and
there was a satisfying "thud" as I smashed it into his chest and sent him
staggering.  He came back at me, and it was hopeless, really - with my
hands held behind my neck with the collar, there was no way realistically
that I could actually win: especially not when Jason grabbed my balls.

He was breathing heavily, and gave my balls a squeeze - enough to make me
gasp with the pain (and, I suppose, more with the fear of what he could do
- like all guys I'm always worrying about damage down there and the pain it
could cause).  Looking directly into my eyes he smiled again, and I got the
message: as he pushed at me I backed over towards the bed, and then fell
forwards on to it.

I lay there and watched as Jason undressed.  I'd seen this hundreds of
times before, of course, but this was different - for one thing Jason's
flat belly was now showing the beginnings of a ring of fat and he'd lost
the hard muscle lines I was used to seeing in the barracks.  And for
another, when he pushed down his boxers, instead of hanging there modestly
as it always used to, Jason's dick sprang upwards as he was already erect.
But most of all, I suppose, it was different because whenever we'd
undressed and been naked together before it was all totally innocent - two
guys at the sports hall, or in the barracks changing uniforms, or whatever.
And now this was wholly different, as this was one male getting naked in
order to force himself on another.

He slapped at my ass and told me to spread my legs, then came and knelt
between them.  I felt his hands on my shoulders, beginning to probe and
massage, then they slipped down my body until he was kneading my butt
muscles.

"Do you remember the last time I did this to you, Steve?  How you were
lying there moaning and whining from that judicial caning?  I was trying to
help you, wasn't I?  Massaging in that analgesic cream.  And what did you
do, Steve?"

I lay there, and I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of a
reply.  Noting my lack of response Jason pulled my butt apart, then I felt
his finger probing at my hole.

"Get off, Jason, what the fuck are you doing?", I shouted.

"That's exactly what you said last time, Steve!  Do you remember?  And last
time I stopped.  But not now, old buddy - I've been waiting for a long time
for this....."

As he spoke, Jason's finger wriggled and poked at my ass.  I tried to move,
to get away, but it was no use - Jason's body was half across mine, and his
other hand felt as if he was gripping the back of the collar that was
holding my hands.  Then I felt his finger push in to me, and I couldn't
help it - I gave a load moan: not of pleasure, but of humiliation, almost
of pain, as I realised that there was going to be nothing I could do to
stop Jason.

He half lay, half knelt and continued to work his finger in my ass, then
added a second one - to more protests from me, of course.  But if anything
this seemed to excite Jason, and when he added a third finger and then
began to stretch my ass, I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of
knowing that it was hurting me - hurting with a different kind of pain from
anything I'd experienced before when fighting.  A pain that went deep down,
deep to the core of me.  It seems silly, I know, but I bit down into the
pillow to help me stifle my cries of hurt and outrage - but it worked, so
perhaps there's something in what you read in stories about this being a
thing you can do when someone is violating you.

Jason stopped after a time, and moved so that he was lying almost on top of
me.  His face was right up by my ear, and he whispered "This is good, isn't
it, Steve?  Two old buddies, close together like this, as close as two guys
can be...."

"No, you bastard.  I don't want your fingers up my ass!  I'm not a fag,
even if you are."

Jason slapped my butt, hard, and laughed.  "I like it when you get angry,
Steve.  But you should be grateful, you know - when my dick goes up there
it will be a whole lot less painful for you if you're a bit ready for it.
And I reckon that when we've had one or two sessions like this you'll learn
to actually like this foreplay - most guys do...."

As he said this he slid his body gently backwards and forwards over mine,
and the slithering felt almost sensual as the sweat that was pouring out of
me lubricated him.  "Now, Steve, feel this....."

I had to hold my temper in check and not cry out as I didn't want to give
him any satisfaction as his dick was forced between my butt cheeks, and
then Jason resumed rocking slowly backwards and forwards.  If it had been
Mike I might have enjoyed it, feeling the hard but somehow soft dick
pushing my butt apart and the motion of the body sliding sensuously over me
- but this was Jason, and he was forcing himself on me, and I knew that he
didn't intend to stop there.  So I lay there and tried to be utterly
impassive as he worked away, and had to listen to him crooning into m ear
"Yes.... This is SO good.... Oh, fuck me, yes.... " and other stuff like
that, just as if he was fucking a bitch.

Then he stopped, and pulled himself up off me and knelt there.  "Right,
Steve - ready for the next step?"

I lay there and didn't reply, and Jason slapped my butt, hard, again, and
laughed.  "Never mind, Steve - I'm having enough fun for both of us!  Now,
as I'm a good buddy of yours, I'm going to make it easy for you..."

Jason reached under me and fumbled about, and pulled my dick out so that it
was lying between my thighs.  "I'm going to lubricate you, Steve, that's
what a good buddy I am.  Some guys would just fuck you dry, you know...."

Jason got hold of my dick and began to stroke it, and at the same time he
scratched at that area behind my balls.  His finger probed back up my hole,
too, and as he must have touched my prostate I moaned and felt my dick
swelling and getting rock solid.  Jason carried on stroking at me and
playing around inside, and in spite of myself I knew I was going to shoot -
there was absolutely nothing I could do to stop it, as my dick seemed to be
responding to his stimulus even though I desperately wanted it not to.

I felt my balls beginning to contract and that wonderful excitement you
feel as you're about to shoot, and then I did - that fantastic sensation as
I felt my cum spurting out.  Jason continued to stroke at my dick, sliding
my foreskin backwards and forwards over my dick head, and now I couldn't
help moaning wit the sheer tingling erotic sensation it gave me.  "Ah,
Steve, you like that..... Is this what you and Mike do together?  A couple
of fag gladiators, jerking each other off...."

 "Fuck you, Jason!  We're not fags!"

"It sounds like it to me, Steve.  But, no matter.... Now....."

I watched as Jason knelt there, smearing my cum over his erect dick and
stroking it to a rampant full erection.  He leaned forward and his
cum-smeared fingers went into my ass again, and he kneaded and stretched me
once more as I shuffled and riled around in a desperate, and futile,
attempt to escape.  Finally he pulled his fingers out and I heard him say
to himself "Right... Now for it....."

His hands pulled my butt cheeks apart and he shuffled forward again - I
remember the feel of the hairs on his legs brushing against those on the
inside of my thighs as he positioned himself.  Then there was a new
sensation at my hole - something warm and hard.  I tried to resist.  I
tried to clamp my hole shut, really I did.  But it's no use, is it?  A hard
dick, forced in, can always overcome the power of your ass muscles.  I bit
down onto the pillows again as I tried to stop crying out with the pain and
shame of what was happening to me, but it was no good.  I gave a totally
involuntary shout as Jason's dick head broke through and he was in to me!

Jason grunted with satisfaction, and began to push himself further in to me
- the pain was at first almost indescribable, but as his dick slid in I
learned to cope with it and began to experience something else - that hard
and yet soft, hot dick sliding into my ass felt somehow good.

Jason stopped, and I could feel his pubes pressed right up against the
tender parts of my ass.  He leaned forward and muttered quietly into my ear
"There, Steve!  Right in!  We're joined together as two buddies ought to
be.  You don't know how long I've been waiting for this, Steve - all those
years when I saw you naked in the barracks and showers, and then when we
went off whoring and I had to see that dick of yours wasted in some
bitch...  We're real buddies now, Steve, as close as two guys can be...."

"Fuck you, Jason! I'm not your buddy now.  One buddy doesn't force fuck
another...."

Jason didn't reply, but began to pull slowly out and then slide into me
again, backwards and forwards, calmly and gently, and I lost all ability to
argue or even talk to him as a wave of utter sensuality swept through me.

It didn't last, though, as Jason's passions got aroused and his thrusts got
faster and harder, until he was slamming into me.  I could hear the "slap"
of his flesh against mine above the cries I was now making as the
incredible mixture of pain and pleasure was forcing me to break my silence.

I don't know how long it lasted, until Jason suddenly pulled out of me.  He
tugged and pulled at me to turn me over on to my back - not easy with my
arms and elbows sticking out from my neck - then he grabbed my ankles and
tried to pick up my legs and push them back towards my head.  I thought I
had him now, and with a huge effort I tried to "scissor" my legs together
to give him a nasty crack on the ribs - but Jason must have been ready for
me, as he reached down and grabbed my balls again.

"Behave!", he barked.  "Now, I want your ankles up on my shoulders.... And
no funny business - or I'll rip your balls off....."

Well, what could I do?  I raised my legs, and Jason smiled down at me as he
shuffled forward so that his dick was once again nudging at my hole.  He
pushed forward, and it seemed to slip inside me a lot more easily now, and
he began fucking again.

Even those of you who haven't had sex with another guy have, I'm sure,
watched a lot of porn movies.  So you'll know that in that position you can
lean forward, crush the guy's knees down towards his chest, and then your
dick can go even deeper, and you can fuck even harder.  That's exactly what
Jason did to me, and now, and as I looked up at his sweating face and body
(the sweat was flying off him from his efforts now and it's almost as if I
can see the tiny droplets in the air, tumbling towards me), I knew I was
crying out in time with the strokes that were causing me such pain, and
such pleasure.

"Jesus.... Oh, fuck me....", Jason started to cry out, and he pulled out of
me and knelt there, frantically jerking at his dick until he shot.  His hot
cum spewed out all over me, right up to my chest, with the last drops
drooling down to soak into my trimmed pubes.  Jason let my legs down, then
fell forward on to me, our bodies slithering together lubricated by our
sweat and his cum.  He lay on me, breathing hard from all his exertions,
with a stupid smile on his face.

"You're one ace fuck, Steve", he whispered after a minute or so.  He was
smiling and happy, and I was lying there utterly humiliated, and hurting.
"I think we'll stay together tonight, but first....."

He climbed off me, his dick still half hard, and walked to the bathroom.
Through the open door I could see him washing his dick, then he brought a
wash cloth back, hoisted my legs up once more, and proceeded to wipe my
ass!  I hated it.  I mean, another guy wiping your ass - it made me feel
like a little kid!

Jason climbed back onto the bed, lay beside me, and threw one leg kind of
companionably over me, as I sometimes did to Mike.  "Next time we fuck,
Steve, I'll have you cleaned out first - I find it a bit distasteful to end
up with shit on my dick.  Still, there was no blood, you'll be pleased to
know, so there's no damage."

"No physical damage, you mean!", I snapped.  "How do you think I feel?"

Jason raised himself up so he was looking down on me. "Who the fuck cares
how you feel, Steve?  You're a slave, and slaves are here for men's
enjoyment.  And, thinking about that, I'm definitely keeping you here all
night - it's a long time since I had another guy to sleep with, and it's
something I always fantasised about doing with you..."  He paused, and
looked at me again, and went on, slower and kind of contemplatively "It's a
real pity, you know, Steve - all those years we were in the service, and we
could have been having fun like this..."

"It's not fun!  Not for me, being raped...."

"For fuck's sake, Steve, get things right!  You weren't raped..."

"You could have fooled me!  Having your dick forced into my ass...."

"You can't be raped, Steve, because you're a slave and I'm a free man with
authority over you.  That's not rape, that's simply a man using a slave."
He smiled at me again, and went on "...anyway, as I was saying, all those
years wasted in the service, when if you'd shown any sign at all we could
have been fucking.  The best I ever got was when we were on those
manoeuvres and had to spend nights in those little two-man bivouac tents -
it was agony, of course: me spooned up against you, and my dick hard all
night but trapped in my jock and combats.  And you never even thought about
it."

"...because I'm not a fag!  That's why."

"Steve, I find the tone you use a bit offensive whenever you say 'fag'.
Let's get things straight, shall we, old buddy?  It's just two guys having
fun together, using their bodies in the way they were designed to be
used...."

"Listen, pervert, sticking your dick up my ass isn't using it 'in the way
it was designed to be used'!"

"Steve, you never were much of a thinker, were you?  You'll agree, I
suppose, that a guy's erect dick is positioned right to fuck a bitch's
pussy?"

"Of course..."

"Well, think about it, Steve: where's your asshole?  And all the same
positions you can fuck a bitch in you can fuck a guy in.  And hasn't it
occurred to you that an asshole is just the right size to take a dick?  And
you're trying to tell me that it's all unnatural, that it wasn't 'designed'
that way?"  He paused.  "Quite part from the actual fun it is - you're not
telling me you didn't enjoy it, just a little - hard muscle on hard muscle,
how sweaty bodies together, being close, very close indeed, to another
guy... If it wasn't 'right', it wouldn't be any fun at all, would it?"

"Oh shut the fuck up, Jason.  Stop trying to make out it's all OK!"

Jason looked at me, and he seemed genuinely sad.  "It could be OK,
Steve.... You and me.... We were real buddies all the time in the service,
and I know you're going to be free one day, and I hoped..."

"You're one sick fuck, Jason!  Taking advantage of me like this, raping me
when you've got that taser and power over me, and then starting to talk
about the future and 'you and me'.  Well I tell you Jason, it's never going
to happen.  Never.  You might fuck me when I'm here and I can't stop you,
but when I'm a free man, that's just what I will be: free.  Free of sick
fucks like you...."

Jason's head darted down and his mouth fastened over my left tit, and his
teeth nipped at it.  At the same time his hand reached down and he grabbed
my balls, and massaged them gently in his sweaty hands.  I couldn't help it
- I moaned with excitement, as it was so erotic, and I felt my dick
stiffening.

"So, Steve.... Perhaps you protest a bit too much...  If anyone was
watching this, I reckon they'd think you were getting turned on."

I turned my head to one side, hoping that if I didn't look at him and
didn't say anything, he'd get bored and give up.  He didn't, of course, but
I like to think that my "passive resistance" took a lot of the fun out of
it for Jason.  I knew I was getting to him when he stopped being playful
and gentle and started to slap at my butt hard, and when he "dick whipped"
my face, and when his fingers up my ass forced and tugged at it a lot more
than he said he needed to prepare me for a second fucking.  And that second
time wasn't a gentle start as he had the first time, but a harsh, brutal
thrust into me, causing me to scream.

Still, I survived, and the following morning Jason sent me off to join the
rest of my gladiator colleagues.  Mike hardly looked at me when I sat down
beside him to eat breakfast, and sort of ignored me as he talked to the
other guys.  I tried to talk to him, but all I got was monosyllables in
reply.  Finally when we were getting up, I grabbed his arm to stop him as I
wanted to talk to him - at once Mike reacted and his hand closed around my
wrist.

"Mike..."

"Let go, Steve, or else I'll have to hit you and then both of us will be
punished..."

"Mike, for fuck's sake, what's wrong?  You've been ignoring me...."

"Don't think you can come straight back after you've spend a night with
your boyfriend..."

I couldn't believe it.  How could he be so wrong?  "I didn't...."

"Shut the fuck up, Steve!  Don't deny it.  It's obvious."

"Mike, you've got it all wrong...."

"You went off, you were away all night, and anyone can see you've been
fucking - those bruises on your arms... And I can see marks around your
nips...."

"It wasn't like that!"

"So what was it like, Steve?  You and your ex-marine lover boy?"

Some of the other gladiators were looking at us now, hearing the raised
voices and the angry tones.  I lowered my voice, although it was hard to
do.  Then, as calmly as I could, I said simply "He raped my ass, Mike.  He
tied me down, and raped me."

For a moment I didn't think Mike was going to listen to me, let alone
believe me or understand what had happened.  But then his body tensed, and
he looked at me.  "The bastard!"

I nodded.  "You can say that again! Look...."

We didn't get a chance to speak further at that point, as the guards were
telling us that it was time to go off to exercise.

Mike and I were scheduled to do the same things that morning, but no sooner
had we started and had hardly even got a good sweat worked up when a guard
came in and led him off - he looked so sad somehow as he went out, and I
naturally assumed he was being taken off for more of the humiliating
"lessons" in pleasuring bitches.  The reality was worse, however: in our
brief lunch break Mike came in, his face like thunder.  I wondered what new
humiliation they had forced on him, but as he turned to pick up some food
from the counter, I saw his back.  There, right across it, in huge letters,
stretching right across his shoulder blades was the word "Mike" - they'd
tattooed him! There was blood still oozing from it all, and as the other
gladiators noticed it too, conversation died.

He sat next to me and picked at his food with a fork.  I knew he was upset
as Mike, like all of us, has a really healthy appetite from all the hard
work.  I also knew that he needed to take his time, and I didn't press him
by commenting on his back.  Finally, he spoke.  "It's going to happen to us
all.  One of that Jason's 'innovations' - he was talking to Straughan as
they did it to me.  He reckons it will make us all more recognisable, and
the crowds will find it easier to "identify" with us.  It's the 'house
style'. Fucking bastards!  They shouldn't treat us as if we're there for
display - we're gladiators, real fighters."

I nodded. Mike was strangely silent, though.  Then he pointed down at his
uniform.  I looked, and there were signs of blood seeping through the thin
white cotton of the front pouch.  "And you and me and the others who are
going to fight naked - we get marked there, too."

"What do you mean?"

"The front of my dick, Steve.  In big letters - M I K E - right down the
front of my dick.

I could scarcely believe it, but later than night when Mike peeled off his
uniform, there it was.  And as if to emphasise the marking, they'd trimmed
Mike's pubes even more so that they wouldn't distract the eye from it.
Mike looked really upset, but there was nothing either of us could do about
it and we spent pretty miserable evening - we couldn't even jerk off as
Mike's dick was still weeping blood from the tattoo (and I voluntarily gave
up the pleasure for fear of upsetting Mike more).

The following morning I was told to report to one of the work rooms as it
was my turn to receive my tattoos.  The guard naturally assumed I'd obey
and left me to make my own way there, but instead I went through to the
administrative offices and asked to see Straughan.  He looked surprised
when I was shown into his room some time later.

"Please, sir, they're going to tattoo me this morning..."

"Yes, of course, Jason's plan to have you all marked in the 'house style'."

"But it's not allowed, sir.  I'm not a full slave, sir, I'm indentured.
And you're not allowed to make changes to my body."

Straughan looked thoughtful, then picked up his phone and asked for Jason
to be located and sent in.  He arrived a few moments later, and Straughan
told him that there was it seemed a flaw in Jason's plan, as it was not
possible to tattoo me.  "...and if our reserve Champion isn't marked,
doesn't that bring into question the tattooing of all the others, as we
won't then have consistency?", Straughan asked.

Jason seemed unconcerned.  "I think you'll find that the indenture
agreement specifically prohibits permanent modifications", he told
Straughan.  "I would argue that a tattoo is reversible.  So when Steve is a
free man again, he can have the marks burned out with a laser, or however
they do it."

"That's not right!", I said.  "They can remove some tattoos - small ones.
But those huge letters, right across my shoulders..."

"...and on your dick", Jason added.  "I expect it will be painful,
especially there.  But in principle a tattoo is removable, and so we have
nothing to be concerned about."  He looked at Straughan and said "So I'll
escort Steve to the work room....  I've got a man in to circumcise him
too."

"No!", I shouted, and Jason snapped "Silence!  Slaves keep quiet unless
they're spoken to!"

"Oh come on, Jason", Straughan said. "We can hardly argue that cutting his
foreskin off is 'reversible'.  It seems to me that we are up against the
'no modification to the slave's body' rules."

"It's essential Steve is 'skinned, Straughan.  He is, as we know, the
'reserve Champion', and he has to look like all the other slaves from here.
I've been worried for some time about having an uncircumcised slave when we
move to naked fighting, and it's particularly important once we decided to
have the slave's name on his dick as the spectators' eyes will naturally be
drawn there.  That is why I've scheduled him to be 'skinned and tattooed at
the same time."

"But we cannot flout the law, Jason.  Once he's free, he could sue us."

Jason smiled again.  "Quite so, Straughan.  But I read the indenture laws
carefully, and it seems that owners are allowed to order surgery on slaves,
even indentured ones, provided it's medically necessary.  So I have
obtained a doctor's certificate - from our regular doctor, so he did not
even charge as he wants to maintain good relations with us as we are
important customers of his - stating that the removal of Steve's foreskin
is a medical necessity because of difficulties the slave was having with
getting a full retraction, and the attendant risk of infection and so on
from the build-up of smeg."

"It's a lie....!"

"Steve, speak once more out of turn, and I will taser you!".  Jason sounded
sincere, so I stood there, seething.  "You know, Steve, it's really hard to
prove, after the event, what's a medical necessity, and what's not.  If you
ever did sue, then it would be the word of a respected doctor, a doctor
skilled in looking after men's bodies, against that of a former slave - and
the courts are allowed to consider that at the time in question you were a
slave and so little reliance can be placed on your testimony."

I saw Straughan looking pleased.  "As ever, Jason, you have done an
excellent job - the leaked stories about naked fighting and the new image
for our top fighters is attracting huge interest, and we have sold out
already for the series of bouts in ten days, something that has not
happened for a long time.  And you're right - it's important that Steve
should fit in with the new corporate image."

"Thank you!".  Jason turned to me, and said "Right, then, Steve.  Let's
waste no more time.  I think I'd better escort you to the work room to make
sure you do nothing foolish on the way.

I really don't want to tell you about how they 'skinned me - the memory of
it is too painful even now.  It's true what Jason had said - our doctor,
the one on contract to repair us after bouts, had indeed prepared some sort
of official certificate, that Jason took, "for the files", as he said.  The
guy knew an awful lot about the male body as he specialised in treating us,
but it wasn't him who did my 'skinning - he'd brought along a medical
student, some young twenty-year old, who, he told Jason "Needed practical
surgical experience and whom he wanted to 'get started' on something
simple."

They strapped me into the chair, and....  No, I'm not going on.  It is too
painful a memory still. Let me only tell you it hurt like fuck, as Jason
said that it was good for a gladiator to experience pain as 'practice for
the arena', so no anaesthetic was necessary.  And it took quite a time, as
the student had to make a little cut, then have the doctor examine it, then
move to the next stage, and have the doctor examine it and discuss it with
him, and so on.  And once I'd been 'skinned, they tattooed me as Mike had
been.  At least that didn't hurt quite as much, by contrast!

Whatever else you can say about Mike - courageous, loyal, good fighter,
great buddy - the one thing you can never describe him as is sympathetic.
When he came to our room that night (I'd been sent there after the
'skinning and tattooing) he laughed when he saw the plasters around the end
of my dick and said it looked so funny to see it like that.

End Of Part Eighteen