Date: Tue, 11 Jan 2011 10:55:36 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Reluctant Gladiator, Part 32

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